There was a name for it, I am sure. When a player endeavors to assemble a commander deck for every colour, every guild, every shard, every wedge, and topping it off with WUBRG, there was a name for it. I only learned it near the end of my journey, and it seems to have been much less important than the journey itself. I didn't need to name it to remember it.

So, here are some lists I hope you remember.

Three-Colour Decks

— The Lands Restored | For the sands long left to waste, Hazezon Tamar stirs their order and strife. The governor's steps bid the old to forever remain.

— The Gyves of Mendacities | Assured that no path is binding, opposed to neither bloodline, Halfdane thrives through parlous deceit and deems nothing beyond his reach.

— The Warriors Follow | Mounted doughty and dauntless, Adun Oakenshield incites the grim and fallen to rise once more toward victory.

— Tresserhorn’s Awesome Squad of Cool People | For the hearts that could not rule, Lord of Tresserhorn imperiously reigns. They march a road that he once led, dropping in droves for his honour.

— The Bird and His Baubles | For the inklings of life's way, Falco Spara, Pactweaver roosts above. He soars as neither a saviour nor scourge, knowing a beautiful path needn't be a glorious one.

— Twinkle, My Starfall Wish | For the fates that never lapse, Illuna, Apex of Wishes looms in wistful starlight. She cradles nightfall in patient solace, granting a wish for a life without.

— Memories Amongst Eternity | For the ever-remembered, Kroxa and Kunoros wait. Once the psychopomp guides, like sentries at the solemn gates, they ensure each soul is safe on the river.

— Beseeming Perfection | In land unbecoming, Tymna and Sidar Kondo memorialize its ambition. They lead those who unfalteringly believe that life goes on, no matter what folly besets.

— John Snow's Butt Mill Brigade | For the minds that must be culled, Jorn, God of Winter  ^Flip considers only booty. He mills those who ponder and pursue ass, wreaking an eternity of torpid frore.

— Roar Above the Tide of War | For the battlefields' carnage, Zurgo and Ojutai advents, for above the loudest cannon is the dragon's cackle.

Two-Colour Decks

— Flourishing Benignity | Spry and sprightly tillage adorns the meadows' end, Karametra, God of Harvests smiling in bloom. She is regnant over ways immemorial, Spring her gracious touch, Autumn her hallowed slumber.

— Oh Jackdaw Sing Arrogance | The crows seeking carrion, the ravens presaging quietude, Colonel Autumn sits patient. His cold orders echo as shadows over war's silence.

— Consigned to the Graves | Hecklers of the atrophied, Gisa and Geralf each wake it in their own way. One croons a masterless dirge, the other sutures their body anew, each trailing the unburied close behind them.

— Fictitious Grandeur | For the bliss of a day long-lived, Kaza, Roil Chaser flies amongst the river's descent and follows the power it provides.

— Greed Salivates, Hunger Burns | For the glory of mornings lost, Bladewing the Risen only rages. Centuries bleed under barrow, rising for a day that shall never come.

— The Big Dog | For the rubs and snuggles, Polukranos, Unchained lurks under the couch. WHO'S A GOOD DOGS? YOU'RE A GOOD DOGS. Pets furiously.

— Being Gay in the Woods | For none others but themselves, Halana and Alena, Partners roam the uneasy woods. An arrow pierces prey, a blade rends its life, an art they have shared, a love they have found.

— The Life of Brion | Hoping to nurture a connection like he had with his son, Brion Stoutarm plays like all dads do. He plays baseball with people and catch with the ground.

— Vibing Pretty Hard | For the foes along the way, Lyse Hext sweeps them aground, a deft strike to the ankle, a second to the throat.

— The River Anew | For the rithe that always flows, Kumena, Tyrant of Orazca brooks its might. Some intrude on the shoreline; the same don't breach its tide.

Single-Colour Decks

— There's Rattling at Life's Cage | For the purity that death offers, Yomiji, Who Bars the Way tethers us all. Life may shackle but death breaks its chains. The spirit decides which is worse.

— The Endless Tapestry | For the orphrey that kythes the erstwhile, Hakim, Loreweaver watches its weave. Both mind and dreams are threaded into the ages, never extricated and never lost.

— Let the Nightmare Go On.. | For the dreams that taint and benight, Chainer, Dementia Master prowls afoot. His stride snares the darkness and his chains unroot the sleeper, finding much beneath harsh veils.

— Kick You Whilst I Dance | For the revelry that reveres the dusk, Diaochan, Artful Beauty cavorts and plays. All must join the dance, their wiles quelled by wiles.

— Roots As Blood-Veins Bleed Sickly Sorrow | Witherless roots embosk an ancient wood, where Kodama of the Center Tree sings its light. Verdure is plaintive, spirits are company, cherishing each other and the paths once walked.

The Five-Colour Monstrosity

— The Season of Mechanical Harvest | For the silhouettes amid the dawn field, Reaper King watches the crops. Keepers of the tilth, toilers of the glade, ruiners of the mindful.

In Conclusion

I thank you for traveling through my eight-year dialogue. I thank you for enjoying this game. May it always mean something to you.