World of Warcraft races

Ankoan style sets the tone: short, fluid names that fit Warcraft's deep sea hunters, murmured beneath crushing dark water.

Annihilan brutes demand ugly grandeur, and these guttural, growling names fit Warcraft's pit lords down to the bone.

Anubisath guardians carry an ancient Egyptian weight, and these names match, terse and solemn as carved cartouches in a Warcraft tomb.

Cawing syllables and sharp apostrophes mark these arakkoa names, worn by scheming birdfolk who whisper to shadows in the Warcraft style.

Skittering consonants build these aranakk names, well matched to chitinous hunters stalking caverns where webs glisten in torchlight.

Aranasi broodmothers and their silk-spinning kin go by names like these, fanged syllables in the spirit of Warcraft's fel-touched spiders.

Bats and dragonhawks alike take to these companion names, ranging from regal to ridiculous, just right for a hunter's flying pet.

Bristly boars and lumbering bears get equal care here, from gruff Nordic growls to whatever a farmhand might holler at feeding time.

Latin binomials with a believable ornithological ring, a natural pick for invented songbirds, raptors and rookery oddities of every feather.

Botani names sound grown rather than given, short green syllables suited to walking flora from spore-lit Warcraft-style jungles.

Brokers deal in secrets and percentages, and these names hang well on Warcraft's hooded interdimensional merchants, every syllable clinking like coin.

House cats, lions and all their Felidae cousins are covered here, from the dignified to the downright silly, just as cats would insist.

Constellar beings are starlight given will. Resonant, otherworldly titles to match the living constellations of the cosmic dark.

A pet crab needs a name as quirky as its walk. Punny, cheerful options for hermit crabs, beach mascots and tide pool companions.

Beetles, mantises and millipedes deserve names too, friendly ones for pet bugs, terrarium residents and the small crawling characters in your stories.

Smelted deep under the mountain, these picks pair gruff given names with forge-blackened clan titles, true to the dark iron dwarf style.

Big, stompy companions need names with personality. Lighthearted picks for dinosaurs, rhinos and any thick-skinned friend who follows you around.

Forged in lava and old grudges, these names suit djaradin and other volcanic half-giants who treat dragon hunting as both sport and birthright.

From noble hunting hounds to the scruffy stray who adopted you first, this set covers dogs, wolves, hyenas and every canine in between.

Harsh vowels and barbed consonants give these doomguard names their bite, worthy of the infernal enforcers a desperate warlock might bargain with.

Blunt as a cave-in, these names belong to drogbar and other hulking tunnel dwellers who carve crude kingdoms beneath sacred mountains.

Static hums beneath these ethereal names, right for void merchants, astral traders and bandage-wrapped wanderers between worlds.

Whimsy with wings: these faerie names drift between dream groves and gentle mischief, befitting the tiny fae of an enchanted forest afterlife.

Hissing, ember-laced names that fit flamewakers, the serpentine lieutenants of molten depths, all smoke and sibilants.

Carved from ice and old grudges, frost giant names land like thrown boulders, heavy syllables fit for towering raiders of the frozen north.

Half snarl and half ancient ritual, these growling names fit furbolgs, the bearlike forest tribes who guard their groves jealously.

Barnyard charm for goats and porcupines, homespun pet names that suit a stubborn billy or a prickly little companion.

All crunch and glottal stops, these names fit the goren, burrowing rock-eaters from a savage frontier world.

Primate companions deserve good names, and this troop ranges from jungle-king grandeur to banana-loving silliness.

Luck-obsessed mountain traders inspired these compound names, in the spirit of the grummles and their auspicious cargo.

Sky-borne names that fit gryphons, the loyal feathered mounts of dwarven peaks, ranging from fierce to oddly affectionate.

Threaded with apostrophes and root-deep vowels, these whisper-thin names fit the haranir, a secretive elf folk of the deep places.

Antler, cliff and morning sky echo through these Highmountain tauren names, earthy sounds that fit the proud mountain tribes.

Half stag and half raptor, hippogryphs of the night elf wilds inspire these graceful, wind-carried mount names.

All hoots, grunts and stolen syllables: mischievous hozen-style monikers for the monkey-like pranksters of Azeroth's wilder treetops.

Hissing, accusatory names that fit fel inquisitors and floating interrogators, every syllable dripping with demonic legalese.

A virtue paired with a watery syllable: serene jinyu-style names for the river-listening fish sages of a misty eastern land.

Short, wet, unsettling names that fit the K'thir, void-twisted cultists and tentacled horrors whispering on an old god's behalf.

Kyrian stewards of the afterlife deserve lofty Greek-tinged names, and these fit winged souls sworn to ferry the dead.

Reforged in holy light, these radiant and resolute names fit Lightforged draenei, crusader exiles tempered by a long war against the dark.

Imperious, fel-touched names that fit Man'ari eredar lords, elegant on the surface with damnation underneath.

Clicking, chitinous names that fit mantid swarmborn and praetors, sharp as bladed forelimbs glinting in amber light.

Tinkering, clockwork names for mechagnomes, complete with surnames that sound like a whole workshop in motion.

Grinding, industrial names that fit Mo'arg engineers and forge brutes, hammered out in the heat of fel foundries.

Carved for mogu tyrants of jade palaces, these stony imperial names fit flesh-shaping emperors and their stone legions.

Gurgling murloc babble straight from the shallows: names for the croaking little fish mobs that are equal parts adorable and menacing.

Faceless servants of the old gods whisper these names from beneath the world, wet syllables broken by apostrophes in unsettling places.

Crystalline and chiming, these names suit radiant beings of living light, short syllables split by an apostrophe like a bell struck twice.

Scheming vampiric dreadlords wear names of aristocratic menace, the kind that smile politely while planning the fall of nations.

Forged for bone-clad necrolords of an endless proving ground, these harsh names sound like armor dragged across a slaughterhouse floor.

Beneath the ice an ancient spider empire still clicks and schemes, and these chitinous names rasp together like legs on cold stone.

Elegant arcane elves who spent ten millennia behind a magical barrier deserve refined names, and these carry that sealed-city polish.

Floating, many-eyed demons need names as unsettling as their gaze, and these guttural strings of vowels seem to watch you right back.

Buried insect empires call for names like these, buzzing and hard-shelled, harsh on the tongue and older than the kingdoms above the sand.

Bristly boar folk defend their thornwood warrens to the last, and these names match, short and rough as the quills down their backs.

Pet reptiles deserve better than Lizard, so here are friendly picks for basking bearded dragons, escape-artist snakes and unhurried tortoises.

Savage cat folk of a wilder world wear snarled, claw-scratched names, half growl and half trophy taken from a fresh kill.

Once noble, now horned and grinning too wide, these corrupted satyrs carry twisted names that remember the bargain that broke them.

Hatched as weapons and never tamed, these lizard warriors hiss out scale-rough names full of sharp sibilants and swallowed endings.

Demons who deal in whispers and bargains favor velvet-edged names like these, lovely to hear and dangerous to answer.

Slow and rolling as a swell, these sea giant names carry salt and storm, fit for beings who wade through shipping lanes like puddles.

Sun-baked and serpentine, these names belong to desert snake folk who guard old vaults and older grudges, sharp with hisses and sudden stops.

Towering, many-armed demon priestesses demand ceremonial names, and these sibilant ones land every syllable like a sermon before a burning.

Less like names than signals, these chittering clicks and droning vowels suit burrowing insect swarms that share a single mind.

Lilting woodland names that fit sylvar characters, the soft-spoken horned fey of Warcraft's dreaming groves and misted forest afterlives.

Earthy first names joined to weathered nature surnames, well matched to the taunka, stoic bison-kin of Warcraft's frozen tundras.

Carved like cartouches in old stone, tol'vir names carry a desert ring fit for the leonine obelisk guardians of Warcraft's buried kingdoms.

Tortollans measure long lives in collected stories, and their patient, knotted names sound exactly like elders who refuse to be hurried.

Grunted from the gravel of a cave floor, these names fit troggs, the half-formed brutes whose entire vocabulary trends toward smashing.

Tuskarr judge a life by the size of its catch and its kindness, and these hearty seafaring names fit those walrus-folk anglers well.

Venthyr characters call for aristocratic, shadow-laced names, fitting the gothic sin harvesters who host the afterlife's grimmest dinner parties.

Elven names touched by the void, pairing graceful first syllables with shadowed surnames that read like beautiful warnings.

Murmured from somewhere outside the stars, these names suit voidwalkers and shadow servitors bound to a summoner's call.

Vrykul warriors carve sagas with axes and plan to die loudly, so their names land hard, in the mold of giant raiders of the frozen north.

Vulpera names stay quick and scrappy, made for the fox-folk caravan traders who could sell sand in a desert and smile while doing it.

Companion names for hunter pets, mounts and loyal beasts in the spirit of Warcraft's wilds, from fearsome to affectionately ridiculous.

Hissing, snatched-sounding names that suit Warcraft's wyrmtongue scavengers, the greedy little hoarders skittering at the Legion's heels.

Zandalari trolls bear proud, apostrophe-laced names with island rhythm, true to Warcraft's oldest empire of dinosaur riders and loa priests.