Before starting this blog, I spent several years working as either an educator or animal keeper at a few different zoos and aquariums. Shocker, I know. In that career, I learned all kinds of animal names: from the eighteen different species of penguin, to the impressive variety of names for a single skink species, to the fun fact that the American bison has the gloriously on-the-nose scientific name of Bison bison. As a fantasy reader and author, I’m more than familiar with the fact that fantasy creatures can, as their mythos grows and spreads, gain similarly varied naming conventions.
Take the classic monster that I call the gryphon. You’ll likely use the same general name for it, but perhaps with a different spelling. Is it gryphon, or griffin, or griffon? Could you use some more obscure variation of the above? Ultimately, there is no single “right” answer. Even the history behind the name is uncertain, as the gryphon was featured in numerous ancient cultures. Personally, I like the connection with the Greek words “grypos” or “gryph” (meaning hooked or hook-nosed). But that might just be my preference for the “ph” variation.
Dig even deeper into the folklore, though, and you’ll find references to related creatures called the alke or keythong. In medieval heraldry, these monsters look like wingless gryphons and are also sometimes called “male gryphons.”
So, what does that matter to us as writers? For one thing, it means flexibility in what we call our monsters. But even more than that, it gives us an extra dose of creativity with the fantasy creatures we’re writing, the cultures surrounding them, and the naming conventions that come up as a result.
Name variations as different species
Myths and folklore are curious things. We tend to look at stories as definitive, like a written book or an official film. The original Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, for example, are considered the official “canon” version of events. Any Holmes adaptations or books written by later authors are deviations from that canon.
But the oldest stories were often told and retold through oral tradition before anyone wrote them down. By the time said writing down happened, those stories already had dozens of variations. And even some tales with definitive original authors, like Hans Christian Anderson’s The Little Mermaid, can pass so deeply into our folklore that their retellings and reimaginings take on lives and power of their own.
In short, myths and folklore – and the creatures that come with them – evolve and change over time, with no one “real” version. And do you know what else evolves and splits into variations?
Playing with multiple species is a great way to pick out names for your monsters and other fantastical animals. Like the big cats and their relatives above, your fantasy creatures will probably have relatives with their own naming conventions. Maybe you have a whole family of “bigfoot” type creatures, with each species named for a real-world variant like the sasquatch, yeti, or swamp ape. Or maybe you start with one of the more consistent mythical names, like the gryphon (spelling aside), and make your own name and species variations based on variants in the myth.
I’m actually working on a short story that uses both of these ideas. It follows a zookeeper who takes care of mythical animals from a magical fey-realm. The beginning of the story features a small, winged gryphon formed from a peregrine falcon and a serval, which the zookeeper refers to as a “swift gryphon” and identifies as part of the falcogryph family. It also references the classic lion-eagle “common gryphon,” which in this story is wingless. Then later on, we see a “greater lung” – which is better known as the Chinese dragon, and in story is recognized as a completely different beast from European dragons. Literally!
Name variations as cultural quirks
That said, you don’t have to have different species to play with your fantasy creature’s naming conventions. Remember how I mentioned several names for a single species of skink? Just for reference, these include the Solomon Island skink (named for its home range), the prehensile-tailed skink (for its grasping tail), and the monkey-tailed skink (for the same reason). Each name is distinctive, but each name exists for a reason.
Another great example is the large, pale gold cat of North and South America. I personally use two names for it: the Florida panther for a rare subspecies found in my home state, and either panther or mountain lion in a more general sense. Depending on where you are, you might instead hear it called puma, cougar, catamount, or more! How wild is that?
Playing with naming conventions this way lets us inject a little cultural flavor into our fantasy creatures’ surroundings. In the short story from earlier, “Chinese dragon” is considered a colloquial term for what the zookeepers call the “lung.” Even the keepers themselves occasionally switch to calling the lung a dragon.
You can even use monster name variations to separate your setting’s reality from its own myths. For example, in my book Wyrm, the “drake” is a species of large sapient lizard with many dragon-like qualities. Meanwhile, the terms “dragon” and the lesser known “wyrm” refer to what the local culture considers mythical progenitors of drakes. These words gain a new significance as we get to know the titular character, who’s frequently compared to mythical dragons because of her strange traits and powers. As I write more in the Horizonlands setting, the names will take on more meanings as the lines between what the setting considers natural and fantastical continue to blur. And all this, just by playing with different words for what we typically call dragons!
Endless names, endless possibilities
Ultimately, what you should call your monsters and why comes down to two factors. The first is what you’re trying to get out of your story. Do you want a classic “swords and sorcery” feel? Then classic names and maybe a few straightforward variations like D&D’s Red, Blue, Gold, and other color-based dragon names will work just fine. Want a more modern setting, perhaps with a few biologically savvy characters? Think about what common names your individual species might have, and maybe throw in an official scientific name or two for some extra flavor. Need an element of mystery, or to take characters out of their depth in a foreign region? Drop in some mentions of a creature whose name they don’t recognize, only to reveal that the mysterious “nereids” are in fact what the locals call mermaids.
As for the second factor? That, my friends, is personal preference. After all, it’s your world, your setting, and your version of the fantasy creature; thus, your naming convention. I might prefer the term gryphon, but don’t let that stop you from using griffin or griffon. Or gryffin.
Or keythong.
Sources: Wikipedia article on gryphons, Mountain Lion Foundation on mountain lions (including their many names)
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