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.
“You were right. General Shivertail was right. That Goblin Lord…isn’t ordinary. I see him out there, occasionally. In the trees, leading his forces. Never close enough that our [Marksmen] or [Snipers] could get a clear shot at him. And he blocked every spell my battle mages sent towards him.”
The arrows came first. Magnolia saw a company of [Archers] led by one of the few Gold-rank adventurers raise their bows. The highest-level [Markswomen] and [Snipers] among them had the Skills and enchanted weapons to fire across hundreds of feet and began loosing arrows into the front rank of Goblins. Black bodies tumbled downwards, just a handful, and the Goblins raised their shields higher, snarling and trampling over their fallen.
Numbtongue heard a scream. Greydath turned. Badarrow lunged at him. He stabbed, and the arrow he held embedded itself in Greydath’s shoulder. The Goblin Lord snarled in surprise and shock. His eyes flashed and he backhanded Badarrow. The [Sniper] spun and dropped, limply rolling down the hill and into the waters.
Badarrow had stopped behind the others. He raised his bow and shot a Goblin trying to stab Headscratcher in the back. He aimed left and shot another Goblin through the head. Then a Hob. The bigger Goblin was wearing a helmet, but the tip of the arrow shot through his eyehole. The [Sniper] spun and another Goblin fell. His hands moved constantly, grabbing more arrows from the quiver. Then he reached for something at his side.
“That idiot Balegilt wants two more [Mages]? Write a reply and tell him he can have his [Mages] when he learns not to let [Snipers] pick them off! He’ll go without and he can take his entire company to hell if he objects!”
“Hm. Interesting. Never underestimate retired warriors, even old ones. Especially old ones, I should mention. More than one [General] has died when entering a supposedly conquered city. A seventy year-old Dullahan [Sniper] can still fire a crossbow. And they really don’t like armies burning down their homes.”
“Looks like an archer’s tower. Or a watch tower. Either way, you could put someone up there to watch for [Pirate] raids or armies. Set up a high-level [Sniper] or [Mage] with long-distance spells…nice defensive spot.”
He pulled an arrow out with a shaped head, aimed it, and loosed in less than a second. The arow flew down, emitting a shrieking sound as the carved head caught the air. And when it landed, it detonated with a cloud of smoke. The running Centaur yelped as Dullahans converged on her location. The [Sniper] looked around and twisted.
“That would be a Gold-rank adventurer. Samile the Watcher, part of the Whisperstep band. It appears Tulm the Mithril is expanding his vision with him on the tower. Noass, would you have a chance of hiding against a Gold-ranked [Sniper]?”
The Hobgoblin [Sniper] didn’t smile as he saw Rabbiteater. Like his friend, he hadn’t smiled since…that day. But he grabbed Rabbiteater’s arm, squeezing the [Champion]’s arm. Rabbiteater, the [Champion]. To this day, the Hobgoblin felt he didn’t deserve the class.
The visor turned back to him. Snapjaw scrambled up a rock and stared around. Badarrow walked down towards Rabbiteater. The [Sniper] hesitated. Then he reached out, grabbed Rabbiteater’s shoulder.
This was Pallass. To get in range of the city, the Wyverns would have to fly through walls of spells and munitions. The Day Strategist hadn’t even activated the most powerful spells yet. And the [Soldiers] could unleash devastating hails of arrows, not just the high-level [Snipers] from afar.
