Aliases are alternative forms of a reference. They can include actual aliases for characters, nicknames, plural variations, gendered versions of some [Classes], and even typos.
“Ah, Nerrhavia’s Fallen. Um…no. No, they are not weak. But their ruler isn’t prone to war—she didn’t even send any forces against us with the coalition army. Queen Yisame. Is she still in charge? Ah, yes. She is. She’s rather careful as rulers go, I suppose, or she doesn’t hate me as much as some nations. But she would be a dangerous enemy. You see, all this land was formerly smaller kingdoms and states of String People. But it unified oh, six thousand years back? Into a powerful empire that ruled for thousands of years then was overthrown. Into the Kingdom of Nerrhavia’s Fall that we now know today. One of the largest and most powerful nations of Chandrar, but you could say its finest hours have passed.”
Queen Yisame of Nerrhavia was light brown of skin, with flawless flowing black hair, and skin softer than should have been possible. Her eyes sparkled like brilliant emeralds, and her features were perfect down to the line of her nose, to her lips. She moved like she was dancing at every moment, and she possessed a radiance about her. An aura.
She was a monster to Orjin. He looked at her once as she stepped down from her chariot and he knew her body was made of some fabric more expensive than silk. She wore it, she had made her features of it, and she had become something…strange. He was attracted to her and so was everyone who beheld Yisame. They stared, men and women alike. Even the animals. That was what made her terrifying. The [Queen]’s escorts followed her, forming a procession of warriors and servants, each more fantastic than the last. All made of silk.
Graceful, beautiful, and strong. Silk provided little protection against slashing weapons compared to regular cotton, but warriors who were made of the stuff were lightweight, stronger than normal, and hard to damage with fists or blunt weapons. It was also one of the most expensive of fabrics, manufactured only in nations like Nerrhavia. Yet all of Yisame’s escort was made of the stuff.
The word was half-question, half-mockery at the title. Orjin stared up at the beautiful face, the mischievous smile and distant look, as if Yisame were looking down at him despite Orjin being taller. He nodded curtly.
Yisame flicked her wrist at Orjin and the others around her laughed. Orjin turned to go without so much as a word. Nerrhavia had nothing he wished for either.
And by contrast, Yisame felt like the lowest-level if he closed his eyes and compared her presence, not her escort. Compared to them, the lesser monarchs hovered about, striking a mix between courtesy and their own self-importance. It took a while for the introductions to be finished, and in that time Orjin realized Nerrhavia and some of the other nations had brought delicacies to be served to those attending. Since he was apparently included in that austere gathering, he ate his fill as he waited for things to get interesting or for everyone to go away.
That was Illivere. Cautious and refusing to commit. Whereas Revine, the Siren of Savere was open about her hatred for Flos. On the other hand, Empress Nsiia and Queen Yisame of Nerrhavia—
“I cared little for the proclamation, Queen Yisame. But tell me, does Nerrhavia desire war? You sent no army against Reim with the coalition, and you were surely able to do so.”
