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.
Slowly, I rise. By his side, the [Chronomancer], the mage Nereshal beckons. We slowly leave our table and file towards the Blighted King. I stare at him.
The King shouts one word. The [Chronomancer] runs across the hall and two other mages, a female Centaur and a male half-Elf, run over. Nereshal raises his hand and speaks a word.
He gets up, brushes himself off, and looks around. The Demons remaining in the courtyard stare at him. Tom looks up, and grins as Nereshal floats down. The [Chronomancer]’s eyes burn like fire, and magic crackles from his fingertips in the form of lightning.
The Blighted King sat, listening to his steward, advisor, and personal mage, Nereshal, speaking. The [Chronomancer]’s words were crisp, and he did not waste time. Nevertheless, Nereshal could not hide his unease.
Othius looked to his left. Nereshal, his steward, bowed. The [Chronomancer] swept from the room, moving at a walk—but still faster than the running messengers who had brought the news. And Othius looked into the scrying orb that had been placed on the pedestal before him. His nobility stood silent, watchful. Wary.
Every coin. Relc stared ahead. It had been such a good day. Could you turn back time? He doubted it. If it was that easy, every [Mage] would be a [Chronomancer].
Another man bowed. Nereshal, the [Chronomancer], was the Blighted King’s most trusted confidant. An exceedingly powerful [Mage] who owed nothing to Wistram. Some had wondered if he was a match—or beyond a match—for Wistram’s Archmages. But Nereshal cared nothing for Wistram. He, like Othius, was bound to Rhir and the eternal war. The only one that mattered.
Erin Solstice went for a walk. Ryoka planned, and her friends made preparations. Time—if there was a [Chronomancer], they’d probably sense time crawl, then jump forwards.
Instead, Othius kept staring at Nereshal. The man was one of the imperfections. He kept exhorting the others. The [Chronomancer]’s job was to be such, but it still rankled.
