I need a name for a Warforged Paladin of the Silver Flame. [Archive] - Wizards Community

I need a name for a Warforged Paladin of the Silver Flame. [Archive] - Wizards Community

Post/Author/DateTime Post
Edymnion
11-15-04, 10:49 PM Okay, after the dragonshard article on the Church of the Silver Flame, I simply had to make up a character for it. A character that would go from the depths of despair, only to see the Light, and raise himself up into glory. For some reason, the first thing that came to mind was a Warforged. Anyway, I've got his backstory written up completely, and I've hit a snag.

The entire focus on the background comes to a head at the very end, when he chooses the name he will call himself. I tried to set it up as big watershed moment, the only problem is, I can't think of a name for him for the life of me.

Here's what I have written:This is the tale of a Warforged, a warforged without a name. For the ease of the reader, we shall refer to this warforged simply as Blank. Blank, like most of his warforged brethern, was a lowly combatant during the War. He went where he was told, he fought who he was told to fight. Like the others, he did not question why he did what he did, it was simply the way of things. He was not happy, he was not sad, the days simply came and went, and he did as he was told. Until, one day, things changed. His commander addressed his unit, he said that the War was over, and that they were free. But what did "free" mean? All he understood was that, in a very short time, he had been given a small pouch of metal disks, coins, and was put outside, without orders.

Blank did not know what to do, he had never been prepared for anything like this. From the day he first awoke beneath the towering Creation Forge, up to that day, he had been told what to do. His life had order, it was predictable, orderly. But now, now things were differant. He did not know what to do, and there was no one to tell him. For a short time, he stayed with a group of other warforged from his unit, who were themselves in equal dissarray. He tried to learn about the new world he found himself in, but the more he learned, the more he despaired. The world outside of his unit was chaotic. People came and went without rhyme nor reason, and more often than not reacted violently to him whenever he tried to speak with them. Emotions, he did not understand why some were happy, while others were angry, when despair was the only thing he found himself capable of. There was no one to help repair him, and as time passed, his body wore down more and more. Blank often found himself wondering what it would be like to no longer exist. In fact, in the later days, he would sit in the alleys, in pouring rain or baking sun, looking within himself, and found nothing looking back.

Until one day, a man approached him. Instead of fear, or anger, Blank saw something new in his eyes, pity and sympathy. When the man asked Blank to come with him, he did not argue, he simply rose and followed. He was lead to a large building, made of white stone, and shown inside. There, young men and women in simple robes cleaned the grim of the streets from his joints, and fixed his hurts. Blank looked up to them, and spoke his first words in many long months. "Why would you help me? I have nothing to offer you." They responded with an answer he could not then understand, "Because it is the right thing to do." He was given a small room, which they told him was his for as long as he might need it. Not knowing what else to do, Blank stayed with these people, and came to know them. He saw them labor and toil, grow tired, and be forced to stop. One day, when one of the older men stopped to rest, Blank picked up the man's burden, and asked where it should be taken. "May the Flame shine on you" the old man said. What flame? There was no fire here, just a stone hall, and the wooden bench upon which the man sat. When questioned, the old man simply laughed. "Why, don't you know where you are, metal man? You are within the halls of the Silver Flame, which lights our path and gives us guidence in our darkest hour."

Guidence. He had been looking for that ever since the day he was released from the War. That day, Blank's life changed. The old man took him to one he called father, although this man was obviously far too young to be the father of the elder. It was from this man he learned of the message of the Silver Flame. To help those in need, as he had once been. To protect those who could not protect themselves, to be a light in the darkness. Somewhere inside of him, Blank felt something happen, something he could not explain. It was if a spark had flashed inside of him, and where he had seen only nothingness before, now he found something new. It was small, but after so long of having nothing, it seemed great to him. Blank listened, and he learned. The Church of the Silver Flame existed to fight evil, that which was dark and wanted everything else to be dark as well. The more he learned, the more he felt that initial spark grow. First into an ember, and then finally a small flame, like a candle in the night. He finally understood why they had helped him so long ago (long ago for him, anyway). Because it was the right thing to do.

Blank committed himself to this cause, because it was right. Although he faced obsticals, Blank pressed himself onward. Even here, there were those that thought him nothing more than a living weapon, not worthy of the same respect as those who had been born, not made. But this drove him only harder to prove himself. His quiet, stoich manner gradually faded away as he became more outspoken, more comitted. He was little more than a weapon when he was made, a sword to be fought with until it sundered, to be replaced at need, all at the whim of another. But not now. He was still a weapon, but now he was his own weapon, and now he had his own cause to fight. Blank wiped away what he had been. The insignia of his old military unit was engraved into his forehead, but that didn't matter, not when it could be covered. Blank endured the process to have the insignia of the Silver Flame permanently attatched to his forehead, over the old engraving. That day, Blank died. The symbol of the Silver Flame being moved into place was like the earth put on the graves of the people that died in the area. When the last screw was in place, a new being sat up. Running his fingers over the shape of the arrowhead he would carry for the rest of his days, he realized that he needed a name.

Months passed as he thought. In that time, he studied and trained. He worked his body, not in the same way the humans did, building muscle, but in a more litteral sense. Little by little, he replaced bits and pieces of his composite plating. What he couldn't replace, he reshaped. Finally, the day his training was completed, he walked into the great hall. As he passed the arched windows, the light glinted off of his newly finished armor. The smooth contours of his shoulder plates, the ripple of light playing off the back of his gold trimmed hands, the rhythmic click of his bootlike feet upon the stone floor. There was music in the air now, a somber tune that held an undercurrent of boundless hope. On the proper cue, he threw open the heavy wooden door, and walked down the path to the alter of the Silver Flame, where the man he had once heard called father stood, the man he now called Father himself stood. He was given the blessings of the Flame, was complimented on his perserverance, and charged with the lifelong duty of defending the innocent, helping those who could not help themselves, and to destroy evil wherever it appeared. At the end of the ceremony, Father said "Rise... I'm afraid I do not know the name in which you will serve the Flame, what do you now call yourself?"

With a light in his eyes that was but a pale reflection of the fire that now raged inside of him, he replied, "I am __________."

"Very well, then Raise, _______, defender of the light, Paladin of the Silver Flame!"So, like I said, I need some help filling in that final blank line.

I've asked around with some people on my IM list, but nothing that really captures the moment. One came close with "Crusade", but it just doesn't have that special ring to it.

Little help?
Erus
11-15-04, 11:42 PM Enlightened

or

N. Lightened
Edymnion
11-15-04, 11:43 PM Hmmm... I was going through thesaurus.referance.com and was looking up synonyms for Guardian.

How does Sentinel sound?
Shadowdogg
11-16-04, 09:09 AM How about my fav....Gideon?
WarDragon
11-18-04, 04:57 PM Guardian? Protector? Defender? Shield?
nihility
11-18-04, 05:08 PM Aegis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aegis)
Draco Strang
11-18-04, 11:02 PM I'm telling you guys, a frickin' serial number is the way to go. Like how R2-D2 and C-3PO were Artoo and Threepio. It makes the most sense.
Shadowdogg
11-18-04, 11:48 PM OMG thats too funny!!!!! :) :) :)
ILL34GL3
11-19-04, 02:04 AM I vote for Pwenis.
Edymnion
11-19-04, 02:59 PM I vote for Pwenis.Um, no, the group is over 14 and we don't go into giggle fits when somebody says a dirty word, so I'll pass on the phalic name.

Thought I'd drop in and tell everybody though that I settled on the name of Crucible. Changed the ending a bit to include a speech about burning away darkness and leaving the shining good behind, etc. Fits his character quite well, I think. Was rubbish, was refined and reforged, works for me :)
Skyrocket
11-21-04, 11:05 AM That's a good name.
Quarterstaff
11-22-04, 11:40 PM ritgheous
holy might
blade of righteouness or bon
protector of the sacred flame
sword of the almighty or sota
vicious exorcisor of evil or veoe

try long names abreiviated to just the first letters
Leagle
11-23-04, 10:07 AM no longer needed.
Vintus
11-24-04, 02:30 PM Stalwart

Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Edymnion 11-15-04, 10:49 PM	Okay, after the dragonshard article on the Church of the Silver Flame, I simply had to make up a character for it. A character that would go from the depths of despair, only to see the Light, and raise himself up into glory. For some reason, the first thing that came to mind was a Warforged. Anyway, I've got his backstory written up completely, and I've hit a snag. The entire focus on the background comes to a head at the very end, when he chooses the name he will call himself. I tried to set it up as big watershed moment, the only problem is, I can't think of a name for him for the life of me. Here's what I have written:This is the tale of a Warforged, a warforged without a name. For the ease of the reader, we shall refer to this warforged simply as Blank. Blank, like most of his warforged brethern, was a lowly combatant during the War. He went where he was told, he fought who he was told to fight. Like the others, he did not question why he did what he did, it was simply the way of things. He was not happy, he was not sad, the days simply came and went, and he did as he was told. Until, one day, things changed. His commander addressed his unit, he said that the War was over, and that they were free. But what did "free" mean? All he understood was that, in a very short time, he had been given a small pouch of metal disks, coins, and was put outside, without orders. Blank did not know what to do, he had never been prepared for anything like this. From the day he first awoke beneath the towering Creation Forge, up to that day, he had been told what to do. His life had order, it was predictable, orderly. But now, now things were differant. He did not know what to do, and there was no one to tell him. For a short time, he stayed with a group of other warforged from his unit, who were themselves in equal dissarray. He tried to learn about the new world he found himself in, but the more he learned, the more he despaired. The world outside of his unit was chaotic. People came and went without rhyme nor reason, and more often than not reacted violently to him whenever he tried to speak with them. Emotions, he did not understand why some were happy, while others were angry, when despair was the only thing he found himself capable of. There was no one to help repair him, and as time passed, his body wore down more and more. Blank often found himself wondering what it would be like to no longer exist. In fact, in the later days, he would sit in the alleys, in pouring rain or baking sun, looking within himself, and found nothing looking back. Until one day, a man approached him. Instead of fear, or anger, Blank saw something new in his eyes, pity and sympathy. When the man asked Blank to come with him, he did not argue, he simply rose and followed. He was lead to a large building, made of white stone, and shown inside. There, young men and women in simple robes cleaned the grim of the streets from his joints, and fixed his hurts. Blank looked up to them, and spoke his first words in many long months. "Why would you help me? I have nothing to offer you." They responded with an answer he could not then understand, "Because it is the right thing to do." He was given a small room, which they told him was his for as long as he might need it. Not knowing what else to do, Blank stayed with these people, and came to know them. He saw them labor and toil, grow tired, and be forced to stop. One day, when one of the older men stopped to rest, Blank picked up the man's burden, and asked where it should be taken. "May the Flame shine on you" the old man said. What flame? There was no fire here, just a stone hall, and the wooden bench upon which the man sat. When questioned, the old man simply laughed. "Why, don't you know where you are, metal man? You are within the halls of the Silver Flame, which lights our path and gives us guidence in our darkest hour." Guidence. He had been looking for that ever since the day he was released from the War. That day, Blank's life changed. The old man took him to one he called father, although this man was obviously far too young to be the father of the elder. It was from this man he learned of the message of the Silver Flame. To help those in need, as he had once been. To protect those who could not protect themselves, to be a light in the darkness. Somewhere inside of him, Blank felt something happen, something he could not explain. It was if a spark had flashed inside of him, and where he had seen only nothingness before, now he found something new. It was small, but after so long of having nothing, it seemed great to him. Blank listened, and he learned. The Church of the Silver Flame existed to fight evil, that which was dark and wanted everything else to be dark as well. The more he learned, the more he felt that initial spark grow. First into an ember, and then finally a small flame, like a candle in the night. He finally understood why they had helped him so long ago (long ago for him, anyway). Because it was the right thing to do. Blank committed himself to this cause, because it was right. Although he faced obsticals, Blank pressed himself onward. Even here, there were those that thought him nothing more than a living weapon, not worthy of the same respect as those who had been born, not made. But this drove him only harder to prove himself. His quiet, stoich manner gradually faded away as he became more outspoken, more comitted. He was little more than a weapon when he was made, a sword to be fought with until it sundered, to be replaced at need, all at the whim of another. But not now. He was still a weapon, but now he was his own weapon, and now he had his own cause to fight. Blank wiped away what he had been. The insignia of his old military unit was engraved into his forehead, but that didn't matter, not when it could be covered. Blank endured the process to have the insignia of the Silver Flame permanently attatched to his forehead, over the old engraving. That day, Blank died. The symbol of the Silver Flame being moved into place was like the earth put on the graves of the people that died in the area. When the last screw was in place, a new being sat up. Running his fingers over the shape of the arrowhead he would carry for the rest of his days, he realized that he needed a name. Months passed as he thought. In that time, he studied and trained. He worked his body, not in the same way the humans did, building muscle, but in a more litteral sense. Little by little, he replaced bits and pieces of his composite plating. What he couldn't replace, he reshaped. Finally, the day his training was completed, he walked into the great hall. As he passed the arched windows, the light glinted off of his newly finished armor. The smooth contours of his shoulder plates, the ripple of light playing off the back of his gold trimmed hands, the rhythmic click of his bootlike feet upon the stone floor. There was music in the air now, a somber tune that held an undercurrent of boundless hope. On the proper cue, he threw open the heavy wooden door, and walked down the path to the alter of the Silver Flame, where the man he had once heard called father stood, the man he now called Father himself stood. He was given the blessings of the Flame, was complimented on his perserverance, and charged with the lifelong duty of defending the innocent, helping those who could not help themselves, and to destroy evil wherever it appeared. At the end of the ceremony, Father said "Rise... I'm afraid I do not know the name in which you will serve the Flame, what do you now call yourself?" With a light in his eyes that was but a pale reflection of the fire that now raged inside of him, he replied, "I am __________." "Very well, then Raise, _______, defender of the light, Paladin of the Silver Flame!"So, like I said, I need some help filling in that final blank line. I've asked around with some people on my IM list, but nothing that really captures the moment. One came close with "Crusade", but it just doesn't have that special ring to it. Little help?
Erus 11-15-04, 11:42 PM	Enlightened or N. Lightened
Edymnion 11-15-04, 11:43 PM	Hmmm... I was going through thesaurus.referance.com and was looking up synonyms for Guardian. How does Sentinel sound?
Shadowdogg 11-16-04, 09:09 AM	How about my fav....Gideon?
WarDragon 11-18-04, 04:57 PM	Guardian? Protector? Defender? Shield?
nihility 11-18-04, 05:08 PM	Aegis. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aegis)
Draco Strang 11-18-04, 11:02 PM	I'm telling you guys, a frickin' serial number is the way to go. Like how R2-D2 and C-3PO were Artoo and Threepio. It makes the most sense.
Shadowdogg 11-18-04, 11:48 PM	OMG thats too funny!!!!! :) :) :)
ILL34GL3 11-19-04, 02:04 AM	I vote for Pwenis.
Edymnion 11-19-04, 02:59 PM	I vote for Pwenis.Um, no, the group is over 14 and we don't go into giggle fits when somebody says a dirty word, so I'll pass on the phalic name. Thought I'd drop in and tell everybody though that I settled on the name of Crucible. Changed the ending a bit to include a speech about burning away darkness and leaving the shining good behind, etc. Fits his character quite well, I think. Was rubbish, was refined and reforged, works for me :)
Skyrocket 11-21-04, 11:05 AM	That's a good name.
Quarterstaff 11-22-04, 11:40 PM	ritgheous holy might blade of righteouness or bon protector of the sacred flame sword of the almighty or sota vicious exorcisor of evil or veoe try long names abreiviated to just the first letters
Leagle 11-23-04, 10:07 AM	no longer needed.
Vintus 11-24-04, 02:30 PM	Stalwart