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.
He was followed by seven other figures, each one armed far beyond regular citizens. They carried swords, a longbow, a staff with a glittering crystal top—the only thing that didn’t make the [Innkeeper] scream for the Watch was the fact that they were clearly adventurers. Instead, he brought out a huge keg of ale with a big smile and told the [Cook] to put on a roast.
“It’s all about purpose. I mean, I cook food for myself but I still haven’t gotten the [Cook] class. But if I tried to make that my hobby or job, I’d probably get the class right away.”
The others – six or so guys and one girl who fight – all have some kind of fighting or magical class. The others either have barely one or two levels, or have chosen different jobs, like [Cook] or [Tailor] or [Gatherer].
“Ah, recipe thieves. It happens. The instant someone makes something worth eating, there’s always a huge race for other famous [Chefs] and [Cooks] to find out how it was made and improve on the recipe. I suppose it’s a sign of how well those hamburgers did that they were sticking around for you to come up with something else.”
The snowy world descended into organized chaos as the green-skinned Goblins began scurrying around. Rags watched as those Goblins with levels in [Cook]…or more accurately, its sub-classes, [Butcher], [Scavenger], [Stewer], and so on, began making food. Garen blinked around at his tribe and waved at them. Then he looked at Rags.
Many spells have been attempted, witnesses interviewed, and even the Antinium have been questioned, but to this day, there exists no record, no evidence of what transpired during the night. No spells were cast, and no alarms were raised among the cities. But every member of the army, including non-combatants like [Cooks] and [Porters] disappeared without a trace, leaving behind neither bodies nor clues to what had happened.
“Well, I know he was bragging—he talks a lot about his classes—I know he said he was a [Warrior] when he was younger. He got to Level 16 while serving in the army, so there’s that. And he has levels in [Cook] and [Bartender] because he used to do that before he became an [Innkeeper]…but he doesn’t have many in each. Just a few levels.”
“Durene. Is an [Emperor] simply defined by his clothes? A king is still a king in rags, after all. It may sound silly, but in this world people become what they believe, I think. You haven’t become a [Cook] because you don’t think you can be one. But I? I think I can do anything I want to. And I think you can too.”
She’d expected there to be some laborious process required, or a convoluted mix of ingredients. But this? Barely a few minutes of effort and she was nearly finished with her cooking! Part of Lyon was elated, the rest indignant that people paid [Bakers] and [Cooks] so much. There was nothing to it!
Erin chewed the decent eggs with a bit of pepper and salt added for flavoring and chatted with Maran and Agnes. They didn’t have much to say, to be honest. Business was good—but Erin knew that. Maran was dating another guy, a young [Cook] whom Agnes wanted to lure to the inn, but Maran wasn’t even sure if they were serious about each other—soon enough, Erin felt compelled to bring up the issue on her minds.
In truth, it was Erin who was truly dissatisfied with Jasi and Grev’s opportunities. [Seamstress]? [Barber]? [Cook]? [Blacksmith]? All these jobs sounded…boring. Erin knew they were all important jobs that someone had to do, but if she had a choice, those would be far from her first ones.
“Hm. We have a [Cook], but perhaps it will be instructive to show him how it is done. By all means, please prepare a third of the jar. I will partake of a few as well to ascertain quality.”
