ElvenForge

Descendants of the first celestial flame. Their names ring like silver bells in the halls of the gods — each syllable a testament to millennia of arcane scholarship.

Exiled to the sunless depths after the Sundering, Drow names are weapons — jagged consonants and sibilant endings that cut like obsidian in the dark.

Their names breathe with the forest — the creak of ancient boughs, the murmur of hidden streams, the whisper of leaves that remember the first sunrise.

Blessed by twin moons at birth, Moon Elves carry dual names — one spoken in daylight, one whispered only by moonlight. Both are true. Both are powerful.

Carved from mountain-heart, Dwarven names echo the hammer on iron — each syllable an oath sworn to ancestors who sleep in the deep rock beneath the world.

Orc names are war-cries crystallized into syllables. To speak one is to make a declaration of strength. The mountains remember every name spoken in battle-fury.