How real cultures name their mountains
Mountain toponyms follow identifiable linguistic patterns. In Spanish, physical descriptions abound: Cerro Negro, Pico Blanco, Sierra Bermeja. In Quechua, apus (mountain spirits) bear mythological names: Salkantay (savage mountain), Ausangate (mother mountain). In Japanese, endings like -yama, -take, -dake categorize types. Your worldbuilding gains depth if you assign distinct linguistic conventions to distinct cultures within the same map.
Real mountains also receive names by visual analogy: The Three Sisters, The Devil's Tooth, The Cathedral. This practice is universal and timeless: any culture looks at a rocky formation and finds resemblance to known body, object or myth. Take advantage for your maps.
Another frequent pattern: names by historical event. Hill of Tragedy, Wreck Peak, Mount of the Encounter. These names assume prior narrative, perfect for fantasy maps: each name tells a story you don't need to explain for it to feel authentic.
Geographic coherence in fantasy maps
If your map has range to the north and another to the south, don't name them with the same logic. Northern and southern peoples should have distinct languages and mythologies. The northern range can have names with hard consonants (Krathmoor, Vrokvann), evoking winter rigor; the southern, more liquid names (Llanavera, Mirennar), evoking warm climate.
Mountains have chained names: the highest peak usually has the name of the entire range or a prominent name. The Andes contain Aconcagua (highest), Pissis, Mercedario, Ojos del Salado. The Himalayas contain Everest, K2, Kanchenjunga. Your fictional range must have at least 3-4 prominent peaks with distinct but culturally related names.
Consider the difference between native name and colonial name. Aconcagua has Quechua/Aymara name, not Spanish. If your world has colonization, mountains can have original name ('Salkantay') and imposed name ('Greater Peak'). Locals use one; official maps another. That tension is rich worldbuilding.
Common mistakes in fictional mountain names
Overabundance of '-mor', '-thar', '-vann': they're classic fantasy suffixes but saturate the genre. If all your mountains end in '-mor', your map looks Tolkien-derivative. Mix distinct linguistic roots for sonic diversity.
Names too long for maps: Hill of the Ancient Pact of the Fallen King of the North doesn't fit a visual map. Real names in maps have 1-3 words max (with some cultural exceptions like Hispanic-American). For your maps, keep brevity.
Lack of type variety: if all your features are Peak or Mount, you lose texture. Mix Spire (sharp mountains), Mesa (flat summit), Horn (curved shape), Colossus (single mass). Each type evokes distinct geological formation.
Names without etymology in your world: if the mountain is called Salkantay, what does it mean in your map's local language? If you don't know, careful readers will notice. Define 5-10 invented roots with meaning: krath = thunder, vann = wind, mor = great. Build names composing these roots.
How to bring a mountain alive in your narrative
A mountain with only a name is set; a mountain with details lives. For each important mountain in your narrative, define four data points: approximate height, specific climate (may have glacier, vegetation, distinct fauna), an associated legend (a historical or mythical event), a unique characteristic (caves, ruins, spring, rare geological formation).
Legendary mountains have cultural taboos: no one climbs at full moon, women can't look at it, names aren't pronounced at dawn. These taboos give you automatic narrative hooks: your character breaks the taboo and triggers conflict.
Consider who lives on or near the mountain: transhumant shepherds, hermit monks, a giant race, political refugees, smugglers. Population defines local economy and conflict. If no one lives nearby, why? The answer can be main plot of a chapter.
For RPG campaigns, draw the mountain to scale with your characters: if they're 1.80m, a 800m wall seems grand but reachable. An 8000m one seems epic destination. Scale determines whether your mountain is weekly exploration setting or major adventure destination.
Finally, mountains are magnificent natural borders. A range divides realms, commerce, languages and races. The northern valley culture will always be different from the southern if they share range. Take advantage of that geopolitical function in your worldbuilding.