Written by Janahwhamme
I have had many people tell me that they want to get better at making flavour for their Magic cards. They find they have names that aren’t resonant, concepts that they can’t explain, and flavour text that doesn’t feel right. The unfortunate truth to the matter is that making flavour good is difficult, and a lot of it simply comes from time and experience, seeing what people like and don’t like and copying canonical examples.
However, there are some strategies that a savvy designer can use that gives them a leg up on this process, and can be used as some guidelines for what makes things work. Today we’re going to be talking about the first thing here: card names. What is the purpose of a name, and what are some strategies and methods I can use to make better card names?
The purpose of a card’s name is to give the card a unique marker that explains why it’s different from every other card, both in-setting and in-mechanics. What does this card represent? What makes this wizard different from other wizards? Why should I summon this specific wizard and use it in battle? The card’s name should reinforce that this card is different and unique in some way, and if it can, justify the mechanics of the card as well. A card’s name also needs to be something that’s easy to say, for more obvious reasons. Snapcaster Mage is a perfect example of a well-titled card: it explains that this guy is a mage who “snap-casts” spells. That makes him unique among wizards, and when you cast him, he lets you “snap-cast” a spell yourself! So his name reflects his mechanics as well.
Snapcaster Mage’s name is also an example of one of the most common paradigms for making card names, especially for creatures: the Adjective Noun. This is a really intuitive structure that, when done well, covers almost all of the purposes of a card name in a single two-word phrase. The noun explains what this card represents, and the adjective explains what makes this card special—and hopefully the two pieces come together to also explain the card’s mechanics. Many, many cards have names like this, such as Giant Spider, Wind Drake, and Dark Confidant.
There are several variations on this strategy, such as the Concept Noun (like Serra Angel or Elvish Visionary) that specifically use a person, faction, location, or object to describe the thing in question, as well as variations on how the grammar is phrased, like the Noun of the Concept (like Ninja of the Deep Hours).
Of course, just knowing the paradigm doesn’t innately make the names good. A common complaint about names I often see is that they’re “generic”, for example, and this paradigm doesn’t do anything about that. As these are just templates, more or less, the actual vocabulary you put into the name matters a lot. Unfortunately, there are also not really many hard and fast rules about “how to use vocabulary well”, but these are things that I’ve found really help make card names that do their job and stand out:
Be very specific about what this card represents. Never say something like “this card represents a powerful knight” and leave it at that. If you have a weak or generic concept point, then the card will struggle to ever rise from that. Add specific details whenever you can, and then try to build the name to relate to that. Where does that knight come from? Who or what does he fight for? How did he get his special knight powers? See if there are more specific words that identify him better—like calling him a paladin versus calling him a knight.
Make sure each part of your name is saying something new or special about the card, especially your adjectives. If you name your card “Ragavan, Nimble Pilferer”, I look at it and say “well, duh, of course a pilferer should be nimble”. The adjective is actually hurting the card, because making it less unique! Space that could be used to impart new information is used to repeat stuff I already know. Think about the connotations of the nouns you use, and try to avoid using adjectives that repeat those same meanings. I already knew that Ragavan was nimble because he was a pilferer. But do I know that he’s a monkey? Or that he’s a skyship air pirate?
If you can’t find specific words for your concept, combine some together! Made-up resonant words are a fantasy staple. But the essential thing here is “resonant”; the made-up word should make sense, and explain itself. Stoneforge Mystic makes sense even though “stoneforge” isn’t a word, because it’s very obvious as to what it means and how it works as a noun: this person forges out of stone instead of metal. This is a great way to help sell things as unique without needing to do the work of explaining them, because combining two existing things already does that for you.
Use words that people actually say. I find it happens quite a lot where people will, seeing that their name looks generic, will just go hunt for synonyms or obscure equivalents to make the name stand out more. Don’t go thesaurus hunting for a card name. Nobody would ever describe something as an “Ambulatory Edifice”, for example. Those aren’t words that are commonly used, especially not in this way—it just makes it feel less concrete and like it’s avoiding the ‘real name’. You should say the card name out loud several times and think about what it’s like to actually say the phrase, and if it’s something you’d see people saying.
Alliteration is popular because it makes your cards “sound better”, but it’s almost always a trap in practice. Restricting yourself to alliterative words makes it harder for you to follow the other strategies, and aggressively asks you to hunt for synonyms and word variations to make the assonance work. Valiant Veteran is a bad card name, because its adjective was sacrificed to make the double-V; “valiant” is not imparting new or useful information to me that I don’t get from “veteran”, and so the name is weaker even though it sounds good to say.
All of these guidelines are worth double when talking about a legendary creature, since they are expected to have more pomp and special shout-out. I often specifically say that a legendary creature’s epithet should be a title, since that emphasizes their unique position that justifies making them legendary, and makes sense as something other people would describe to use them, such as Anowon, the Ruin Sage. Even if you’re just using a descriptive epithet, though, make sure you’re really selling this as a unique individual who is important. Korvold, Gleeful Glutton is doing it wrong—not only is this a description no one would ever say, but it doesn’t really tell me any meaningful information nor make him special and unique… because it had to be alliterative! It feels worse to “say nothing” on legendary creatures, since they need to be “something”.
Card names that are specific, that are unique, and that do it using normal vocabulary are the number one ideal here. Almost all of our most famous and resonant card names are Adjective Nouns or Concept Nouns, but they work because they use their language well to create a phrase that sounds good, feels natural, and still makes the card remarkable and standout. Dark Confidant uses no special words or linguistic tricks: it just explains what the card does and why this guy is special, in simple, precise vocabulary, working off of a simple, precise vision. Almost every card has the potential to have a name like Dark Confidant. You just have to understand the maxims to get it there.