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.
[Tinkerer]. [Builder]. [Hammerer], [Armorer], [Scavenger]. They were a group unique to her tribe. Every Goblin tribe had someone good at repairing armor or making crude spears, but Rags’ tribe had learned to create crossbows. They had built their crude armor thanks to her [Scavenger Armor] Skill. And she had aquired a level or three in the [Tinkerer] class too. Rags pointed at the trebuchet.
Krshia greeted a Gnoll [Armorer] who was married to the best Drake [Blacksmith] in the city. The Gnoll grinned at her, her arms patterned with burns and the hair missing in patches. It was rare for a Gnoll to take up a metalworking class given the dangers to anyone with fur on their body, but such rare individuals were always respected for their sacrifice.
The [Armorer] nodded. She sat with Krshia on a pair of worn armchairs that smelled faintly of cat pee. Krshia chewed on a cold sausage with cheese—she’d brought it from home since Elirr hated cheese and didn’t have any in his home—and spoke candidly.
“Incredible? Yes. But dangerous as well. There’s a reason most of the [Blacksmiths], [Armorers], and apprentices and so on you see are species other than Gnoll.”
“I am a Level 35 [Armorer]. I’ve labored for over thirty years to reach my level of skill and experience in my craft. Some thought me gifted, and I believed that too when I left Baleros to impress another continent with my skill. But Dwarves, half-Elves, even some Lizardfolk will outlive me. Most Dullahans die before ever turning eighty.”
Raekea, one of the finest smiths in the city and the best [Armorer] in truth. Elirr, a beloved [Beast Trainer]. Senior Guardswoman Beilmark, a veteran [Guardswoman] trusted by all. They waved at the crowd, and got cheers of support. Krshia raised her voice.
“You know what? We’re not done. Selys was planning on having Zevara wear the Heartflame Breastplate. Fat chance of that now. But there’s something…and it’s not like the Gnolls don’t have good candidates. People like Krshia. And Raekea, that [Armorer]. I didn’t know there were Gnoll [Blacksmiths], did you, Numbtongue?”
“Right. You sell to [Merchants] and [Traders]. But what about selling directly to, I dunno, Celum? Isn’t it better to have multiple markets? To be competitive and stuff? You could check out the quality of their gear. And there’s this Gnoll [Armorer] in Liscor I’d like to you to meet.”
“Grimalkin, this way! Watch the muscles, ladies! He’s got a ten-pack. Muscle Mage, don’t you know? Excuse me! Some room for Maughin! He’s a [Blacksmith]! [Armorer]! It’s close! Don’t stare!”
He smiled and waved at Maughin. The Dullahan, already uncomfortable, raised his head and turned it to stare at Lism. The Drake turned pale. The [Armorer] shook his head, perplexed.
Raekea the [Armorer] looked up from her platform and stared. She had been shouting, arguing against one of Lism’s candidates for City Council. And frankly, she had been miserable doing it. She was no [Orator], [Diplomat], or anything close to a speaker. Metal didn’t argue back, and Raekea generally didn’t have a crowd watching her sweat. So it was a relief to be interrupted.
“Maughin, may I present Raekea, the best [Armorer] in Liscor? This is Maughin, Raekea. He’s a blacksmith too. An [Armorer] to be precise. Just like you. The best in all of Pallass.”
“Maughin, may I present Raekea, the best [Armorer] in Liscor? This is Maughin, Raekea. He’s a blacksmith too. An [Armorer] to be precise. Just like you. The best in all of Pallass.”
