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.
The [Soldiers] and [Servants] had known—but like Orthenon, they hadn’t believed. They had begun to gather outside of the throne room, hoping, praying—if only they had known what prayers were.
“He was like—I suppose it was like standing before Lady Reinhart, or Lord Veltras. One of the high nobility, Ryoka. Only more intense. It’s a sense most [Servants] have—I felt as though I should have been prostrating myself at his feet.”
“But some classes have more…opportunity. And more force in them. A [Survivor] has many Skills, but a [Lord] will have more powerful Skills, although he may take Skills from many walks of life. And a [King] stands above all other classes, one of the few that has the strongest Skills, the most powerful benefits. There are other classes, and other combinations of classes that have strength too. But if you aim to reach the highest level possible, you must know what it is you search for, not squander your strength. That is why I have prevented you from taking useless classes like [Servant] or [Warrior] without knowing what you will become. Do you understand?”
Not that she particularly cared. The [Servants] rushing to open the doors themselves backed off as Ressa held the door open for Magnolia. They knew the pecking order, and in that sense Ressa wasn’t a bird but a [Hunter] with a bow and arrow.
He was late. He was never late. A [Servant] went out to find him, and after a few minutes of low conversation, there was a shout. The entire room saw the door to the lecture hall swing open and Niers walked in.
The [Maid], Janica, slapped Reynold’s hands away from the basket she was holding. The other servants nodded to Reynold deferentially—he outranked them all as one of Magnolia’s special [Butlers]. The [Manservants], [Porters], and generic [Servants] descended on the coach. Reynold sighed as he walked around to the back of the carriage and pulled out a large key. He unlatched a hidden compartment on the back and turned to Janica. She was an older woman with grey hair, but she peered keenly inside the inner workings of the carriage as if she were a girl seeing her first artifact.
Magnolia was either a night owl or she’d had far too much sugar, because she strode towards the doors and down the hallway at a brisk pace. Zel followed, his legs and tail almost asleep. Magnolia led him down a flight of stairs, through a hallway full of [Maids] and [Servants] who stared at Zel, past a Gnoll [Maid]—
Sacra stood with both feet planted on the ground, mace by her side. She was joined by eighteen other [Maids] and [Servants]…none of whom were wearing their usual uniforms today. They were all former spellcasters and warriors and they were all armed with magical artifacts.
“Yes, Emperor. She’s done nothing out of the ordinary. She uses her personal mage to send [Message] spells, but her people have settled in well. Fairly well. The [Servants] were arrogant until Prost settled them down and I believe Lady Rie had a word with them.”
Lord Tyrion’s reply was cold and clipped, although that didn’t reflect his feeling towards Yitton Byres. The two men headed for a larger pavilion across the busy camp. They strode past [Soldiers] who saluted, [Knights] who turned and bowed, hurrying [Servants] and [Porters], [Cooks] and [Handlers], hearing the hustle and bustle of a massive army moving around them in the rain.
Lord Tyrion Veltras was busy. He stood at the heart of a ring of people, all of whom wanted to speak to him. [Mages] bearing messages, [Messengers] with the same, [Scouts], officers with questions or issues that required his attention, and not least the nobility. There were a number of [Lords] and [Ladies] and [Servants] who had come on behalf of their masters to speak with him. Tyrion dealt with it all coldly and calmly.
Still, the Naga was if nothing else, vain. He’d brought out his best silk vest, and his hair was combed. He wore jewelry on his arms, decorative bangles, but nothing too ostentatious. His serpentine head was gently powdered, and he had oiled his scales. His long, serpentine lower half shone as he slowly entered the waiting room the [Servant] had pointed him towards.
It was a weak spell, but it could blind an opponent and Gazi had taught him to aim perfectly with it. He hit a patch on the wall, a spot on the ceiling—and then saw the [Servant] with the dust cloth down the corridor glaring at him. She was cleaning and he was getting the sand everywhere.
