There is a grand epic written in blades-- the sword-song Cov Cuvaʒuth. Every sword possesses some of the song, but the strongest phrases makes stronger swords, intelligent weapons with a will to realize their three-word volition.
Scholars try desperately to understand the thread of the epic by compiling lists of famous swords and their wielders, or by searching scriptures for convergent passages with known blades, or composing inspired passages themselves while studying martial arts. Grey monks gather swords, orbseekers scatter them, but ultimately both are in vain-- the swords shall be set in order when the end-times come, and the seer-giant Calamus returns to redeem the ocean.
The secret advantage of the THREE WORD SWORD template is that it forces you to describe an object more fully, to consider its actual physical properties. But the name is not the point-- you can and should do this with any object that's the focus of a scene. Don't let a shield stay a shield or bread be bread.