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.
“It’s an undead monster. And you—I thought you were just an [Illusionist] scaring poor people. But you’re that [Necromancer] Relc was talking about, aren’t you? Well, you leave Erin alone! She doesn’t need you bothering her!”
Ceria sighed, although she wasn’t actually that mad. She’d gotten used to Calvaron selling secrets, and she’d even bought two off him for small favors and secrets in return—one to find out where the bathrooms on her floor were, and another for a shortcut that saved her several minutes getting to the banquet hall each day. Apparently, a rather irate [Illusionist] had grown fed-up with waiting in line for the bathroom each day and enchanted her own private restroom, until word had spread of its existence.
It was a wizard’s hat. That was to say, it looked like what most people would imagine a wizard’s hat to be, rather than, say, any hat that happened to fall on a wizard’s head. Blackmage had expected glowing stars or maybe a few glowing mystic words, but the [Illusionist] had sneered at such basic spells and enchanted the hat with a nimbus of light that shimmered like the aurora around the hat. To top it off, little flying dragons made out of magefire flew through the colored lights, roaring soundlessly.
A thousand clues that pointed one way. It was such an obvious conclusion that Niers would normally suspect a trick. But the device Xalandrass held said otherwise. He showed Niers more of what it could do. Niers stared at a screen full of characters even smaller than he was move about before vanishing and wondered if an [Illusionist] could do that well.
“They can. It’s very expensive, but Wistram [Mages] can do it. Some of them. I think some of Fissival’s [Mages] know the spell. Idiots becoming [Battlemages], [Summoners], [Necromancers] and [Illusionists]. If they really wanted to earn money, they just need to learn that spell and make it cheap enough for old folk. But it’s possible if you have enough gold.”
“I know the strength you gave your Seven. And I know the power you can give an army! If we are your subjects, you can revive your units of old. The Sorcelled Blades! We have a hundred enchanted weapons. Wasn’t that all you ever needed? There are not any [Illusionists] to recreate the Mirage of Chandrar. But I have my citizens. King of Destruction, turn Tiqr into your weapon of old. Resurrect the Dreamers of Reim! Summon your [Army of the King]!”
“A pleasure, Miss Solstice! I am indeed the uh, special effects of the plays. [Hedge Mage]. Self-taught. I do all the illusions for the Players of Celum—this group, at least. I know our main troupe was seeking out a real [Illusionist]. I’m afraid though that my abilities aren’t enough to handle your idea of this haunted house.”
“It’s an honor to hear you say that, but it’s just low-grade magic. Not even Tier 1. [Cooling Breeze]. Just a little cantrip I worked up. It’s wonderful on hot days. I used to get paid just to cool rooms down. The problem with illusions on the other hand is that I have to work for a long time to make them work well. And animating them? Making them real? Very tricky and I’m not high-enough level yet. Nor am I an [Illusionist], Miss Erin.”
“Just slap on [Arlell’s Articulation] and [Charming Visage]. If she’s got magic detection spells, do something non-magical and charming. You’re the [Illusionist]. I’m a Selphid, there’s that thing with the Minotaur, Isceil’s mad and Mons is the boss. There’s only you.”
The Centaur shuffled his hooves. Palt, the [Illusionist] and subject of Zevara’s wrath, really wished he had something to smoke. Still, he put on his best smile and spread his arms wide, peaceably, trying not to paw the floorboards nervously with a hoof.
The [Illusionist] Centaur smiled, relieved, as she stood and gestured for him to follow. At last! If he was lucky, he might get to go to the inn and have something to eat before everyone else was done. They owed him large for this. He wondered if the [Innkeeper], Erin Solstice, really was one of the people they were seeking. His stomach rumbled as he absently twiddled his fingers, undoing a spell.
“Ulinde’s a [Spellslinger]. Isceil’s an [Oldblood Magus]—he uses the power of his bloodline. Beza’s our [Spellscribe]—completely different, she writes down magic on a scroll and uses it from there. Palt’s our [Illusionist]—he’s still busy—and I’m a [Aegiscaster]. That means I’m specialized in barrier spells.”
“Yes. Wistram has sent one of their hunter teams after him. I am reviewing—[Aegiscaster]. [Spellscribe]? [Spellslinger]. [Oldblood Magus] and [Illusionist]. An odd mixture. Not suited to simple apprehension. Not the [Spellscribe] or the [Oldblood Magus]. Perhaps simple arrogance. Five, though. They could certainly capture him. But they were detained for breaking Liscor’s laws?”
Palt, the Centaur [Illusionist], hated his life. He trotted through Liscor, aware that he had tails. Not the one on his behind, but [Guards]. Liscor’s Watch was following him, even after he’d split from Montressa and the others. It wasn’t a good time to be around Montressa, anyways.
