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.
A voice interrupted the Drake. He visibly sagged and practically ran out of the way as a Gnoll in robes replaced him. Olesm blinked. A [Senator], one of the elected officials who ran the Assembly of Crafts, Pallass’ governing body, entered the door’s view. He smiled with his teeth at Olesm and Embria.
“The Assembly of Crafts has made its decision based on the evidence. Liscor will fall either way, Strategist Olesm. It is my duty as [Senator] and the duty of the Assembly of Crafts that when Liscor falls to the Humans, it does not take our city with it.”
Loud voices made Olesm turn. He saw a huge crowd of Drakes and Gnolls gathered down the street. And standing on a wooden platform—Olesm’s heart sank—was Wing Commander Embria. She was arguing with a paunchy Gnoll dressed in a [Senator]’s robes, shouting, really. The Gnoll was smiling, well, fake smiling, and answering back as the crowd jeered Embria.
Olesm fought to get to the stage where Embria was arguing with the Gnoll [Senator]. He felt the crowd open up—not because of him, but because of the two Drakes following him! Olesm growled, but dashed up onto the wooden platform. A [Guardsman] dressed in Pallass’ colors held a spear up threateningly. Olesm held up his claws.
“They might! Who knows? They might! But to declare a national emergency and expect soldiers within minutes of calling it? Striding into Pallass to do so? That is hardly appropriate, yes? Give us a day or two to verify your reports. If this is true, we can send reinforcements, yes? My fellow [Senators] in the Assembly of Crafts, the Scalethrift party, don’t believe Pallass should blindly rush into things.”
Olesm felt something hot in his stomach, searing him from within. He stared at the pompous Gnoll [Senator] with his paunchy belly and smug, superior expression. He thought of Liscor, his home, and of the Goblin Lord and his armies. He thought of trebuchets, of the walls he had stood on for so many years, of his friends and family, and his duties. He thought of Erin too. His stomach hurt where Erin had kicked him. And Olesm felt all of the panic, fear, and anger building in him until he did something completely uncharacteristic:
That was, until the Drake with pale-blue scales who claimed to be Liscor’s [Strategist] shoved the [Guardsman] trying to remove him from the stage. Instantly, the Gnoll [Senator] was in front of Olesm, bursting with patriotic indignation.
The Drake poked the Gnoll [Senator] repeatedly in the chest, sending the Gnoll stumbling backwards until he nearly fell off the stage. In the scrying orb, Olesm turned and stared straight at the viewers. He shouted, his face flushed, his tail lashing the ground.
“Hired by Lord Veltras to ensure that no aid comes to Liscor. Hired by Pallassian [Senators] to do the same. And contracted by a third party of unknown origin to ensure that the door remains inoperable.”
Everyone knew that the Drake cities of the south were ruled by Drakes. While it was true that in some cities, members of the ruling body like Pallassian [Senators] could be Gnolls, it was almost always Drakes who occupied the Watch Captain posts, filled Council seats, and so on. In some cities, the Lords and Ladies of the Wall ruled and they were obviously Drakes.
Venim coughed. He looked much as Erin remembered—straight-backed, rather formal. Sort of like a male Zevara, in other words. She didn’t know him too well, but in her mind he was one of the ‘good’ Drakes from Pallass. Although she really only knew one other person—that jerk Gnoll [Senator].
“See? That was a proper Wall Lord. Always time to talk. Not like those stuck up [Senators] from Pallass. They had their Wall Lords and nobles—still do—but are they running things? Not likely! And look where it’s got Pallass. No, you want a proper city? You let them run things—”
