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.
“I was referring to thugs with weapons aptly known as ‘bouncers’ or the more mundane [Mercenary] classes, but you do raise a good point. I doubt many would be willing to travel this far to offer protection—and even if they did, their prices would be quite exorbitant.”
“Perhaps, but how’d she get word of them so soon? Unless—do you think she was heading to the north already? Terandria, overland? Maybe join in a war as a [Mercenary]?”
Other nations. I have read of them. The western oceans contain the last continent, a jungle in the south, plains and then tundra to the north. The species there are—odd—but Baleros is engulfed by endless low-level conflicts that give rise to an entire culture of [Mercenary] companies. Four of the biggest companies practically rule the entire continent, and a lot of the wilds of Baleros lie unexplored.
An hour later, a large caravan moved down the road, headed towards the city of Ostegrast. It was a large caravan as they went. Over thirty laden wagons rumbled down the road, protected by a force of nearly a hundred [Guards] and [Mercenaries]. Around these lands, there was safety in such numbers. The [Traders] and [Merchants] in the convoy sat comfortably on their mounts, secure in the knowledge that few monsters would dare attack them.
“It’s strange. If you were another [Assassin], or a [Bounty Hunter] or [Mercenary], or any one of the people who’ve come to claim my head this month, you’d have tried to sneak up and stab me to death, or blast me with a spell at range. Or use an arrow. Or poison. But you didn’t. You rode up and told me you were going to kill me.”
“Once again you have new ideas Miss Erin that…well, it’s always something wondrous with you. We—the Players of Celum we’re calling ourselves for now—owe you a huge debt. Jasi and Grev talk of you all the time and if you could spare the time we’d love to have you meet our troupe. We’ve taken on a lot of new [Actors] since we started and we now have our own warehouse to practice in. Hah, we’ve had to hire [Guards] and [Mercenaries] to keep people from watching us practice! It would mean the world if you visited.”
This world had no boxers. No tradition of the sport, at least, not in Izril. There were [Gladiators] in Chandrar, [Mercenaries] in Baleros, and [Sellswords] throughout the world, but no boxers. At first Ryoka had been sure that Alber was from her world. But he hadn’t looked up at hearing the song’s name.
If she was Level 30. If she had real potions to sell. But right now she earned her living selling cheap healing potions to [Guards], [Mercenaries], adventures, and mana potions to the low-level [Mages] who came by. Her profits came in silver, not gold. And while it was steady, it wasn’t much. Octavia had been a middling [Alchemist]. Until she’d met Erin Solstice. And Ryoka Griffin. And had made matches.
And yet, the Last Light’s tale lived on. It spread from word of mouth, from soldier to soldier, until you could hear a story about her a hundred miles from where she had ever walked. And that was because there was something in the Last Light that called to the [Mercenaries], to [Soldiers].
“I learned to speak because I thought it would make the Humans listen. That if only they knew I could talk, they would stop hunting us. They knew we were in the sewers. Just not how many. One day they swept the sewers with every adventurer they could muster. [Guards] and [Mercenaries] too. Even [Militia]. Trying to kill us for good.”
She could hire an adventurer. She could bribe a crowd or fund a campaign. She could hire a damn army, or at least some [Mercenaries]. And she could make it rain gold. Or silver. That was probably more cost-effective. Selys looked at Zevara and Krshia, then she cleared her throat. They looked at her. A Gnoll who led her tribe in Liscor, and a Watch Captain of a Drake city. And they waited for her to speak. Selys had a big smile on her face as he tail swished back and forth excitedly.
“No, Ksmvr—it’s not—these are [Bandits]. Lawbreakers. We’re not [Mercenaries], but someone has to take care of [Bandits] as well as monsters. And sometimes the local City Watch or militia or [Lord] can’t handle the matter, or they do it by putting up a bounty. We get paid to take on the [Bandits]. It’s dangerous. Monsters are predictable. People aren’t.”
Over a thousand [Soldiers], [Mercenaries], and even Bronze-rank adventurers found employment at the Titan’s school. It was cheap pay and you might get bruised, but you could level up. Because you’d be issued with blunted weapons and you’d fight in formation, obeying a [Strategist] or officer’s commands, but actually fighting your opponents. Bones would be broken as two sides fought in various terrain, flanking each other, demonstrating different tactics—people got hurt.
