Like most, you were born with a name, but in the calling darkness there came an offer, and with it a new name. Bestowed upon you by the great fallen, your service to them was rewarded, in coin, in crown, in the friendship of powerful people, and in a reputation. Your bargain fulfilled the calling darkness found you again, another patron, another task, another name. The years strain knowing and you have proven yourself by many names. Some are known but in knowing the name is yours one knows as well that the name rings hollow. Holding no power over you. With so many names in hand, what even does it mean for one to be your own?