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.
“This is Noass and Sir Relz of Pallass, newly made [Commentators] with a Human [Magician] providing us the [Scrying] spell. We happened to be on the scene when we met—er, what did you say your name was, sir?”
“Unprecedented! Can Drakes just walk through from Liscor to Pallass? And what’s he doing? Looks like he’s joining the Wing Commander. Let’s go in for a closer look. Make way, please! [Commentators] passing through!”
“Lord Astoragon. Do you have any comments? I understand our [Commentators] and our audience would like you to speak some words. We have four hundred and twelve [Message] spells directed at you—”
The Drake [Commentator] duo was half-right this time. It wasn’t just that Wil had the resources to call on; it was that he’d figured out Tulm the mithril was coming. He had plotted a sea route that took the warships to Daquin’s harbor without alerting a Great Company or the other ships at sea. Yes, they hadn’t been looking, but still. If you understood anything of logistics, of the effort it took to move that many warriors, you would look at Wil and want him to manage your armies.
Neither did Wistram’s finest. They kept staring at Tulm. Marian could hear someone shouting from the scrying orb. It sounded like one of the Drake [Commentators] having a heart attack. Niers ignored them all. He clapped his hands together and beamed around.
“This is Sir Relz and Noass, your [Commentators] coming to you live from Pallass! Is ‘live’ the word we’re using, Sir Relz? Where’s the logic in that?”
Watch. Noass stared over the edge as the scrying mirror caught part of Sir Relz’s slack face. The Drake’s scales were white, drained of blood. It was the other [Commentator], Noass, who began screaming.
They had stolen the skies. The two Drakes looked at each other. Noass’ face was frozen with horror, but then he faced the image. And the [Commentator] did the only thing he could: speak.
The Wyvern had caught the Drake. And worse, it had heard Noass. The [Commentator] froze as the Skill hiding him failed. The Wyvern landed, crushing the Drake it had caught under one paw. The Drake child was screaming and Noass was backing up. He was fumbling at his belt for…a dagger. Sir Relz’ claw shook on the scrying orb.
The two Drakes backed up. The Wyvern was staring at them. A second set of eyelids flashed across its eyes as it stared at the [Commentators]. Narrowly, as if trying to figure out if they were there. But then its maw opened. Lyonette saw a dark red mouth. Opening wide, wide. The Wyvern inhaled and Noass threw himself to one side.
Erin blinked. Noass and Sir Relz, the two [Commentators] who’d broadcast the battle blinked. The [Soldiers] and Watch, on a razor’s edge of anticipation, paused for only a second at the unexpected order, and then rushed at the two Drakes.
“If you’re just tuning in, this is Noass and Sir Relz, your [Commentators] for the day! If you would like to see us permanently, please [Message] Wistram! Naturally, the fate of Rhir is a world-wide issue, so let’s go now to the kingdom and hopefully the Blighted King will have time for a few words.”
“As always, we will deliver commentary after the direct viewing. We have a full schedule for today, and we will be live all day—until some other [Commentators] will take the position. As always, we will stick to our schedule unless an event of significance occurs—for instance, the King of Destruction is apparently still in Belchan at the moment, but if he finds any more monsters to hunt, we will have to cut to him—”
