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.
Overkill for a small [Lord]’s house and his retainers. But that was how the Black Judgment worked. Anyone who broke the law and refused to honor their debts was punished, be it a [King] or a [Beggar]. Venith’s stomach twisted. Now that he looked, he saw the army that accompanied Flos was no true army. Their numbers lay in the hundreds, possibly not coming close to a thousand.
“We can’t live, Prost. Not with what we have. We’re this close to selling what we own and going to the nearest town to become [Beggars], the lot of us.”
It was not an endless stream, just eight or so wagons. And the streets were hardly paved with gold, and the [Beggars] weren’t as rich as [Lords]. But the King of Destruction still rode through his city, followed by a caravan heaped with gold and artifacts. And when the roar of the crowd that flocked out to meet him reached Nawal’s ears, it felt like the entire palace shook.
[Kings] have been made into [Beggars] from that line alone. But while Farri might have been a high-level [Merchant], he was true to his word. Better to have a client that might come back again than earn a reputation as a [Swindler]. His prices were fair, and Selys bought too much. A magical vault, a small bag of holding, a quill that could automatically refill itself from the matching inkpot, a talisman that kept away bugs from her house, a little cooling stone, and a very bouncy ball that bounced away from you until you said the retrieval word…
The passionate argument was attracting attention. Kevin furtively edged away and kept begging. One of the [Beggars] was taking notes from his unique style. But then—Rose began to sniff.
“I don’t want to be a [Laborer]. I think I got…[Layabout]? [Beggar], from Invrisil. Um—[Rider] when we were on the horses…what were the other two? [Potter], oh yeah…I turned them all down. I think I’m a Level 4 [Warrior]. That’s about it. I should probably have gotten rid of the [Warrior] class.”
“I am a [Fartraveller Bard], a [Bard of Stories]. I have been both. I have seen terrible tragedies, walked through war, and spoken with those who fought against legends, both monsters and men like the King of Destruction. I have performed for [Kings] and [Beggars] and been humbled by both former and latter. Tonight though, I think we have no time for such stories. Nor shall I compete with Elisial!”
He was going to die, a hundred coins or not. The man was a Human. A [Beggar]…no, wait. They didn’t have such classes, so he couldn’t magically suck coins from passing money pouches.
“You are all worthless. The children no one wants. You have no future. Each nation and city and town has no place for you. [Beggars] and [Outcasts] and [Street Urchins].”
A Drake stood like a [Beggar] in front of a [King]’s treasury. In every sense of the word, because the gates were open. A rich paradise of…content lay beyond. A trove, if not in exactly gold, then information, knowledge, and spectacle.
He didn’t have security along the streets. The crowd was begging for autographs like [Beggars] for coin. There were no flower petals, no music—no celebration for heroes in battle.
“Furthermore, do you think a disappearing person is simply gone? Drakes, Gnolls, Humans, have families. Even the most unloved person has an enemy or acquaintance who will take notice of their absence. Even a [Beggar] suddenly gone might be observed. Az’kerash wishes to keep hidden. Why would endangering him by killing a citizen of that city be wise?”
