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.
For instance, every Goblin including Rags had at least one or two levels in [Scavenger] and [Warrior]. But what was interesting to Rags was that they seldom leveled up higher, even the old ones.
Goblins that had lived for three years or longer were only Level 9 in the [Scavenger] class. And the highest-level [Warrior] Goblin that Rags could remember was the old Chief. He’d been Level 18 in the [Warrior] class, and he’d been a Hob.
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.
Rags had leveled many times over the journey. Not so much as a [Mage] or [Tinkerer], and certainly not as her old class – [Scavenger]. But through Garen’s intense training she’d leveled up as a [Warrior], gained two levels as a [Tactician], and more than ten as a [Leader]. Soon, the other Chieftains told her, her [Leader] class would turn into a [Chieftain] class, unique to their race.
To pay the costs, the crew were [Pirates] of opportunity, [Scavengers] and [Treasure Seekers] whenever they passed by a sunken wreck, and occasionally honest [Sailors] carrying cargo as well. Right now they were on a trawl for sunken wrecks on their way to a Drake port city on the south-eastern coast of Izril. Surfacing would mean going back the way they’d come, costing them precious days in time and resources.
Level 19 [Chieftain]. Level 13 [Mage]. Level 18 [Tactician]. Level 11 [Warrior]. By any standard, Rags had grown exponentially from when she’d first been a Level 2 [Backstabber] and Level 5 [Scavenger] hiding in the grass around Liscor. Her incredible growth was due to her genius. And yet, Rags knew it wasn’t enough. She passed through her camp, grunting as Goblins waved at her, keeping an eye out for one particular Goblin. She found him standing by a tree, eating. That, at least, was predictable. He was always eating.
[Tinkerer]. [Builder]. [Hammerer], [Armorer], [Scavenger]. They were a group unique to her tribe. Every Goblin tribe had someone good at repairing armor or making crude spears, but Rags’ tribe had learned to create crossbows. They had built their crude armor thanks to her [Scavenger Armor] Skill. And she had aquired a level or three in the [Tinkerer] class too. Rags pointed at the trebuchet.
They were explaining more about Baleros and this world to the Italians, filling in the gaps that they’d guessed at. It turned out that the announcements in their head were a universal language, so the [Scavenger], [Survivalist], and [Skulker] classes they’d received were all familiar to them.
He could remember the young Goblin’s nickname. He tried to push it away, but the memories flooded into his head. Too many, too fast to repress. Stickhair. She always had sticks in her hair. She was a [Scavenger]. She’d been part of Tremborag’s tribe, one of those sent to scavenge or steal as opposed to raid.
Back when he’d been young, Pyrite had been press-ganged into serving as both [Warrior] and [Scavenger]. Later, he’d become a permanent scavenger when they’d found he had a nose for finding pretty gems. The Goblin hadn’t seen the value in the gems that Tremborag loved so much and his lieutenants adorned themselves with, but he’d squirreled one away and carved it into a gem for Stickhair. And she had smiled and he’d been struck with that.
Shouting unhappily, Pebblesnatch did. She was a [Grabber], which was apparently like a [Scavenger], but for Goblins. And a [Cook], and [Hider]. All told, she had over thirteen levels total. Which was high for a Cave Goblin!
A [Scavenger]’s paradise. Are they here? I cannot see them; my eyes are locked on the faces in the distance. Shining armor—they are chanting, now. Blowing horns, rattling war drums. Cheering, as if they intend to hide the truth.
Hemp [Soldiers]. As poor as the [Scavengers]—some will be conscripted. Most, in a lesser army. Not so for one of Nerrhavia’s endless hordes, the primary armies from the capital. These will be career soldiers, paid a bit better. Armed with genuine steel since Nerrhavia can afford it.
This wasn’t the bad old days of being hungry in the High Passes. Rags had sent plenty of provisions, even if they were a bit dry. Mousebite scowled warningly. She, like Rabbiteater and some other Goblins, had gotten her name from having to eat anything she could in times of starvation. She was a [Scavenger] as well as a [Warrior] and had a Skill that let her practically vacuum up small things.
