What had he cast away his own Name for, his place as the Sword of Judgement, if not to do something?

Hanno breathed out, looking at the sky, and felt a calm settle upon him. He rolled the coin between his fingers, and with a deft flicked of his thumb flipped it. It arced upwards, silver shining in the sun, and looking at it Hanno knew which side he wanted it to land on.

And so he knew what to do.

...

“I will settle it,” the dark-skinned hero simply said, “so follow the plan.”

He felt Creation quicken around him at the words. It had been waiting, hadn’t it? For his resolve to take shape. And now it had: if it was a risk to do the right thing, what you should be doing, then you simply had to be powerful enough it was no longer a risk. Hanno of Arwad slowly unsheathed his sword, feeling the first motes of his Name begin to coalesce. It was not there yet, he thought. But it would be by this battle’s end.

“Go,” he said, his voice echoing in a way that had them shivering.

Not even the young knight argued with that. They went, disappearing into the maze of houses, and the hero slowly turned his gaze south. He had work to do, he thought, and began to walk. Hanno did not look on what side the coin had fallen, leaving it down there in the ash.

He no longer had a use for it.

- Book 7, Interlude: Legends II