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.
She was a [Nightstalker]. The [Guardsman] didn’t recognize her, nor did the people in line. But anyone with the knowing would see it. The thin blades concealed along the sleeves of her arms, the way she held herself, tightly poised—and her beauty.
The [Nightstalker] and her companion were ahead of the [Enforcer], but he’d tagged them the moment he’d seen them. And they hadn’t seen him, so he took the time and identified her. He already suspected who she was, but the instant he saw her turn her head and saw a scar across one cheek, marring her beauty, he was sure. You only got that ragged cut of a scar from a fight. And an improperly used healing potion. And a woman of her beauty would normally find a way to remove it with tonic or spell, but one group prized their war scars.
The Sisters of Chell. That also explained the man next to her. As mentioned, the [Nightstalker] had an escort. She was dangerous enough herself, but he was apparently extra muscle. The [Enforcer] squinted, casually appraising the man who neither the visitors to Celum nor the [Guardsman] had seen. A man dressed from head to toe in ragged, wrapped bandages, dark, stained in a few places. Ah yes. [Blackguard].
The [Enforcer] noticed this because he was looking, because he had a ring, and because they were in the same line of business. Most people probably didn’t even see the [Blackguard], hence him not being called out to by the [Hawkers] lined up around the city gates. But even if he was invisible until he attracted attention, people sensed his presence. And they didn’t block the blank-faced man’s path, any more than they did the [Nightstalker]’s.
They were dangerous. But they were all in the same line of business, so the [Enforcer], after a quick calculation, stepped forwards. He caught the two unawares; the woman was speaking to the [Blackguard] without turning her head as she flipped off a [Hawker]. She whirled as the [Enforcer] strolled up beside her. The [Blackguard] had already seen him and just warily stepped between the two. But the [Enforcer] just tipped his hat genially to the two and smiled at the [Nightstalker].
She eyed him. Then the [Nightstalker] turned her head and spat. The [Hawker], who’d been approaching the much nicer-looking [Enforcer], recoiled in disgust as the spit hit him on the front. He backed away, cursing the woman. She ignored him and looked at the [Enforcer]. With a jerk of the head she started walking down the street. The Brother of Serendipitous Meetings followed.
The [Enforcer] and [Nightstalker] did all the speaking as they walked. The [Blackguard] was a silent shadow, unheard but never forgotten by either. The two didn’t beat around the bush, for all of the [Enforcer]’s niceties. Nor did they ask names. They were both professionals, albeit with different styles. The Sister of Chell sneered at the Brother’s hat and dapper clothing.
The [Nightstalker] glared. She nodded to the [Blackguard] and the man reached for something concealed by his clothing. The air grew tense as the two stopped in the street. The [Enforcer] considered his options. He looked from the [Nightstalker], whose crossed arms meant she was ready to draw, and then at the [Blackguard] hovering over his shoulder, already holding his weapon.
The [Nightstalker] glared. She nodded to the [Blackguard] and the man reached for something concealed by his clothing. The air grew tense as the two stopped in the street. The [Enforcer] considered his options. He looked from the [Nightstalker], whose crossed arms meant she was ready to draw, and then at the [Blackguard] hovering over his shoulder, already holding his weapon.
The [Nightstalker] smiled arrogantly. She knew they had him dead to rights. Still, the [Enforcer] refused to budge. He sighed, and then slowly, deliberately, he reached up. And he took his hat off.
The [Enforcer] gave her a polite smile. But what was said and had been done spoke volumes. Rattled, the [Nightstalker] looked at the [Blackguard]. And the tiny shake of the head and his wide eyes told her she’d misjudged the level and nature of the [Enforcer]. Slowly, she let go of the hidden blades she carried and thought fast. At last, grudgingly, she jerked her head.
The [Enforcer] tipped his hat. The [Nightstalker] just made a disgusted sound and walked off. He followed her, and the [Blackguard] trailed the two. An accord had been reached, and as difficult as the negotiations had been, they now had an agreement. So the air eased between the two, at least for the moment.
Not that Celum was used to the trio that strolled down the street. The [Enforcer] and [Nightstalker] looked around the city, taking in the scenes, the sights—Celum probably held ten thousand people at most. It was small, quaint in the [Enforcer]’s lexicon of words. The [Nightstalker] would have used a different word to describe it.
