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.
Older. Not that she’d lived amongst other folk than half-Elves for most of her life, but it carried weight. The half-Elf [Cryomancer] smiled apologetically as she motioned him and Yvlon aside.
“You may not know this, Yvlon, but when a [Mage] transcends into a unique class such as [Necromancer], [Cryomancer], and so on, they become…focused in that specific class. If they pursue other types of magic, they must begin with the [Mage] class again. From Level 1.”
All of the Horns of Hammerad immediately looked at Ceria. The half-Elf [Cryomancer] coughed and looked the other way. Dawil laughed loudly and then broke off as something buzzed his way. He swatted at it and Apista flew away from his mug. The Dwarf stared at the insect with a mixture of horror and incredulity and then stared at Ksmvr. He pointed at Apista.
That was the Horns of Hammerad. Ceria the half-Elf, the [Cryomancer] with her skeletal left hand, Pisces, a [Necromancer] with a haughty attitude and a rapier hanging at his belt, Yvlon, a [Wounded Warrior] whose armor didn’t gleam like her older brother’s, and Ksmvr, a three-armed Antinium cast out from their Hive.
She felt crushed. The half-Elf [Cryomancer] looked at Calruz’s map and tried to guess how many turns and junctions, traps, and secret doors lay between the main Raskghar camp and the surface. Too many to count. She tried to plot a course from the dungeon’s entrance to where Calruz had said they were and failed. Nor did she have time to study the map—Calruz folded the grimy parchment and tucked it into his belt pouch possessively.
“And you would be…a [Necromancer]. No, don’t bother answering. I can tell. Your aura screams death magic. And the half-Elf’s a [Cryomancer]. Poor form, both of you. You at least have some arm and leg muscle, boy, but you’re both completely unfit.”
“Who said anything about spells? I’ll check on their fitness, their aptitude, recommend how they should progress—it’s actually quite effective. I am an expert [Mage], after all. If those two have any holes, I will fix them. [Necromancer] or [Cryomancer]. Of course, teaching them spells will require more time, and if they have any significant flaws, I’ll need to remedy them.”
“I don’t need to know them to make correct assumptions. You. [Necromancer]. Level 30 plus. Ceria, [Cryomancer]. Below Level 30. Upper mid-twenties I’ll guess. Yvlon Byres, same level range. [Warrior], most likely generic. Antinium…”
“Testicles! Gonads! Wait, Human females don’t actually have them, do they? I don’t focus on reproductive organs, just muscle. Anyways. Ceria Springwalker! Your master was one of the few [Mages] to take on the so-called ‘test’ Archmage Zelkyr left behind, wasn’t she? I applaud her. She was brave. Truly brave! But foolish. I wish she hadn’t thrown away her life. If she hadn’t, you’d be twice the [Cryomancer] you are today. And she would be alive. But the testicles she must have had—I wish I’d known her.”
