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.
As for the rest? The Humans had come almost as one entire package. They were odd, and signed their names on Quallet’s enchanted list with odd flourishes and curved writing, as if they were all [Scribes]. Some had laughed as they’d did so, and joked about ‘enlisting’ as if it were a completely new thing.
“It’s a crime, that’s what! Garusa Weatherfur and Thrissiam Blackwing are dead! Two of our finest [Generals] and over twenty thousand good Gnolls and Drakes, gone, and for what? Because those bickering bastards couldn’t field a larger army? We could have sent three times that number! And I heard that vital intelligence wasn’t even passed on to them! The Goblin Lord uses undead, and no one thought to pass off that tidbit to either [General]! Some [Mage] bastard or low-level [Scribe] thought it wasn’t important information when it came from Zel Shivertail himself!”
“Ah yes, your commentary. Was it all lauding her brilliant moves, or did you copy her remarks as well? Certainly you deserve praise—for your abilities as a [Scribe]. Not as a [Tactician]. Least of all as someone with any original thought worthy of merit.”
Niers Astoragon frowned down at the tiny book in his hands. He considered ripping it up, but books were expensive, and books that were made for Fraerlings were hard to obtain. They were almost twice as expensive in fact—not because of the costs of production, which were minute, but because a Fraerling [Bookbinder] and [Scribe] had to labor hard to copy texts in minutiae.
“Choice. Yes, well, I’d like my people to have the same. I’m building trebuchets and teaching people to become [Engineers], Lady Rie. But I’d like them to be able to become [Alchemists] or [Blacksmiths] or [Scribes] or whatever they desire.”
Within twenty minutes, the [Actors] had disappeared behind the curtain. With Pisces. Those that weren’t acting, like their playwright, a former [Scribe] who’d been bitten by the stage, was sitting at a table close to the front. Erin clapped her hands together as someone cast a [Light] spell and the front of the stage glowed brightly.
“On the wrong side of history…isn’t that something for people with quills to decide, later, your majesty? [Scribes] and [Historians] and such? Why would their opinion matter?”
Lyonette held the piece of paper in front of her. She stared at it for a long time. It was a simple message. But it was written on costly paper that bore Salazsar’s seal. The writing was, in fact, written as precisely as any [Scribe] could do it. But a Wall Lord had done the writing.
However, given that a lot of people worked during the day, it was less cramped in the mornings. Everyone with a day job was already at work—as [Laborers], [Scribes], [Builders], and so on. Someone, Andel, had even found his way onto the fishing ships that operated out of the harbor.
He jumped as both Paige and Daly turned and shouted. Kirana was already grabbing for a bottle. She pressed it on Diana and they rushed to explain what it was. The girl took a sip of the stamina potion after staring at it for a second. Then she gasped, and color flooded into her face. Daly took off and left the apartment to run and find the other person with diabetes—Filip, of Poland. He was working as a [Scribe], but he repeated Geneva’s instructions and Daly came back, huffing and puffing, to find that Paige had already found the hand-written instructions.
Some were [Mages]. Others [Scribes], [Weavers], [Potters], and others that Lasica and Rufelt knew by name. There was even a [Hauler] who’d reached such a high level that he’d become a [Cargomaster]. The Garuda pair were [Aerial Dancers]. Erin met them all. Rufelt served drinks, some plain shots, others glowing, magical, wine and spirits and occasionally, juice.
