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.
“Let’s see if our [Wagon Driver] wants a break and get on the road if you want to follow her, Gerial. It looks like she’ll go at least forty miles before she runs out of steam.”
And that was only in Celum. In Liscor, the uproar was more like a furor in truth. The city had not turned out its warehouses to support a Human city, but it had commandeered every Runner, [Wagon Driver], [Rider], and transportation-based class that could be spared, all under the orders of the legendary Zel Shivertail himself.
Then she looked around and took stock of her inn. It was a full room today. Not only had some of the [Wagon Drivers] stopped here to eat, but Pawn, Belgrade, and Bird and a small group of Soldiers and Workers were in line as well. Klbkch was conspicuous in his absence, as was the strange group of Antinium who’d followed him.
All the adventurers jumped. They looked up and saw the man driving the wagon they were sitting on looking back at them. Termin the [Wagon Driver] waved his hand and they saw Esthelm’s walls staring at them. They’d been so engrossed in their conversation that none of the Horns of Hammerad had noticed the city.
The [Maid] turned back to the road and twitched the reins. The carriage dodged around a convoy of wagons as the [Wagon Driver] in front screamed and raised his hand as if that could stop the oncoming impact.
And the wind blew at her back. The [Wagon Drivers] and [Guards] walking with their caravans grumbled as the spring wind blew into their faces. The City Runner ran past them, and they pointed her out. The wind changed back as she passed.
That was all Ryoka could think to say when she’d caught her breath. Her body felt like rubber now, and she was shaking. She imagined the adventurers fighting after a night of running. Fighting those…frogs. She shivered, and saw the [Wagon Driver] turn and give her a grin.
Ryoka spoke automatically, and then realized she had an audience. A few Street Runners and some City Runners were staring at her. And so was the [Wagon Driver] she’d met. Termin. He was sitting at a table, a mug in his hands.
“It’s all it takes. A friendly hand. Offering someone some corn and watching them smile. Even a good old cursing match with one of those damn [Wagon Drivers] who hit my fences when they’re drunk. It helps. Other times I just have to be alone.”
One of the old men smiled. The other nodded. The [Trader] grinned and so did Durene. She thought she knew him. Either way, he was smiling as he adjusted his belt. He went back to the wagon to load the last chess set up with the [Wagon Driver], and then his eyes widened. His hand flew to his belt.
It was night when he arrived in Celum. Mainly because the traveller had been moving all night. He wasn’t tired, although he had beaten the sun’s rays to the gates of Celum. He’d gotten his sleep on the wagon, riding here, in pleasant company with a very amiable [Wagon Driver] with two fine horses. And he was a night person anyways.
“Not late at all, not at all! The main convoy’s just moving at a different pace. There’s a Watch escort and not all the [Wagon Drivers] have movement Skills. I have one ready to go that can easily catch up—or, if you can ride, we can take horses! But where are my manners?”
