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.
“I’m no [Mage], if that’s what you’re asking. My class is [Vanguard]—a variation of [Warrior]. I can’t do any magic, actually, although I have several magical items. That’s what the name refers to.”
“In this world, an individual can change the course of a battle. A single hero can win a war. And that is because we level. Armies protect their highest-level warriors, or risk them in order to deal damage to opposing forces. But a hundred Level 15 [Soldiers] would not be worth the life of a single Level 30 [Vanguard]. So we sacrifice the many for the good of the few, that they might grow stronger. That is the difference between our worlds.”
Orthenon turned to look at Mars, unruffled by her ire. The woman shrugged. She was a [Vanguard], Trey knew. A powerful warrior class, and her nickname was Mars the Illusionist. And…that was all he knew about her, really.
“And if I was, you’d still not hit me. I have a shield and a sword. And I’m a [Vanguard]—if you two could touch me with a sword, I’d run myself through in an instant. Or ask what level you two are.”
“Others occupied different roles. Mars is a pure warrior. She would be at the head of every charge, and crush the opposing army’s champion before each battle. She deserved her class. [Vanguard].”
They screamed her name. The enemy was turning, forming into ranks to face the [Vanguard], the lone member of the King’s Seven. They were treating her like an army herself. But Trey looked at Mars’ bare head. He saw the [Mage] raising his staff.
Now Trey stared at Mars. Mars the Illusionist. The [Vanguard]. The most useless of the King’s Seven when it came to anything but war. But war…she was pretty good at war.
Mars, the Illusionist. A mighty [Vanguard] and a champion of Flos’ armies. Practically undefeatable in battle, Mars took the appearance of a beautiful woman with magical artifacts while concealing her true nature.
The woman pursed her lips, looking vexed but only for a second. Luscious lips. That was another phrase. She needed no makeup, and her skin was perfect despite the heat. Teres could see some of the male soldiers—and two of the female ones—giving Mars a long look. She tried not to stare as well. Flos appeared impervious to Mars’ charms, however. The [Vanguard] and one of Flos’ infamous Seven led them to the center of the camp.
She reclined on a chair, her body languid, her molded breastplate gleaming in the sun. Teres stared at her chest. She met Mars’ eyes as the [Vanguard] winked at her.
