Tag: language

Valency Series: Intro

~ mnransdellgreen ~ Leave a comment

Recently, I gave a presentation at 11th Language Creation Conference at the University of Maryland. I’m going to reproduce some of the content of that presentation on this blog, in the context in which it was intended: using linguistic typology to show some interesting grammatical things that can be done in conlangs, and why you, as a conlanger, should care. In the presentation, I gave an overview of different structural manifestations and semantic uses of valency-changing operations, how they appear in natural languages and how I have implemented them in my various conlangs.

Basically, a valency-change operation increases or decreases the number of core arguments in a verb. Core arguments are those that are considered necessary for a given verb: semantically, they are represented by A (agent), S (sole/subject), and P (patient). Agents are those in control of the action of a verb (broadly speaking), Patients (also sometimes called Themes) are those most affected by the verb, and Subjects or Soles are the sole argument of a verb. Languages vary in how they treat S, A, and P morphosyntactically. Nominative-accusative languages group S and A together, leaving P marked differently. Thus we get sentences like, “I bit him” and “I sleep”, in which the word “I” is used regardless of whether it refers to an A (“I bit him”) or an S (“I sleep”). Therefore, A and S are both in the nominative case and P is in accusative. Ergative-absolutive languages, by contrast, group S and P together, with A being the distinctive one. S-P are usually in the absolutive case, while A is in the ergative case. The distinction of these core argument groupings is called the verbal alignment or morphosyntactic alignment of a language.

Morphosyntactic alignment plays somewhat into valency change. When we use a valency-changing operation, we are manipulating the core arguments of a verb. Ultimately, the way a language treats core arguments becomes relevant when we fiddle with those core arguments.

First, I will outline two broad categories I will cover in this blog post series. The first is (1) valency-decreasing operations and the second is (2) valency-increasing operations. I actually hope to cover more of each than I was able to in just 20 minutes of slides and speaking for the presentation version of this essay. Ultimately, I’ll discuss: causatives, applicatives, passives, antipassives, anticausatives/middle voice, and reflexives/reciprocals. Some of these categories may overlap to a greater or lesser degree, depending on the language. It’s also true that convention often dictates the terminology used for these categories in the traditions of specific languages. I’ll try to be as explanatory as possible when describing each feature.

For now, I’ll start off with causatives, the first valency-increasing operation.

Simply put, causatives add another core argument to a verb, by inserting a causer and turning either an A or S into a causee, one who is caused by the causer to do the action. See for example, the English example below.

‘Joshua ate the spaghetti’ –> ‘I made Joshua eat the spaghetti’

The first sentence is transitive, wherein the A (Joshua) eats the P (spaghetti). In the second sentence, I use a causative (a periphrastic one that uses the verb make), thereby adding another core argument to the verb eat. “I” is now the causer, “Joshua” is the causee, and “spaghetti” is still a P undergoing the action of being eaten.

Languages vary morphosyntactically in the ways they do causatives. Some are periphrastic or analytic, as in English. Another example is in French:

‘J’ai fait manger les spaghettis à Joshua’
1s.S-aux make.pstprt eat the spaghetti to J.
‘I made Joshua eat the spaghetti’

Note how in the French version of this sentence, the causee is now marked as an oblique, preceded by the preposition à ‘to’. This one of two major strategies languages use to show that a former A/S is now no longer such, due to the addition of the causer. The causee can either be marked oblique, as above, or it may be marked the way other P nouns are. In the latter case, we see examples like that in Sanskrit below, in which the causative allows two accusative-marked nouns to coexist in one clause.

Rama-m veda-m adhyapa-yate
Rama-acc veda-acc learn-caus
‘He teaches Rama the Veda’ (Literally: ‘He makes Rama learn the Veda.’)

In the above sentence, you can see that this causative construction allows two nouns to be marked accusatives. One is the causee (Rama), and one is the object of the verb (the Veda) that the causee is being caused to perform .

The above example also shows us that causatives can be morphological, or marked directly on the verb with some morpheme. This is also a cross-linguistically very common way of doing causatives. Sometimes, languages differentiate between which causatives apply to transitive verbs and those apply to intransitive verbs. See the examples below from Turkish. ‘die’ is an intransitive verb, and thus when it is causativized, it gets the -dür causative.

Hasan öl-dü
H.       die-pst
‘Hasan died’

Ali Hasan-t öl-dür-dü
A. H. -acc die-caus-pst
‘Ali killed Hasan’

However, if the verb we start out with is already a transitive verb, a different causative morpheme is used, the -t morpheme. The first sentence below shows a regular transitive sentence, “The director signed the letter”. Then we see how such a sentence could be causativized: “The dentist made the director sign the letter.”

Müdür mektub-ü imzala-dı
director letter-acc sign-pst
‘The director signed the letter’

Dišçi mektub-ü müdür-e imzala-t-tı
dentist letter-acc director-dat sign-caus-pst
‘The dentist made the director sign the letter’

Causatives can also be lexical. That is, they can be represented by totally separate lexemes or words. This is not an instance of a word being modified by a morpheme, but something else entirely. English has several examples of this, notably the die and kill pair. ‘kill’ is a causative of ‘die’. Another such pair is eat and feed. A cross-linguistic tendency noted in Haiman (1983): within languages that have multiple strategies for creating causatives, lexical causatives tend to show a greater level of control and directness of causation than morphological causatives, which in turn show a greater degree of such than analytic causatives.

Below, I’ll provide a few examples of ways I have created causatives in my conlangs. The first example comes from Seloi. This somewhat isolating language has an analytic causative. The particle here is sli. It was, historically, a verb, and it still sits in a verbal position in the clause, but it lacks any other trappings of a real verb, such as tense, aspect, or modality. Therefore, it can be said to be fully grammaticalized.

Vali sli    na te-keva          te-koi        ai Iskila
3s.m caus for def-woman  come-fem loc Iskila 
‘He is having the woman come to Iskila’

Note how in this construction, the causee is demoted to an oblique role, prefaced by the preposition na ‘for’.

In Rílin, morphology is the main way to implement a causative. The prefix xa- increases the valency of a verb by adding a causer. For example, the intransitive verb psílha [‘psiɬa] means ‘to bleed’. xapsilha is ‘to make bleed’, with an extended meaning ‘to injure, to hurt’. lhesti [‘ɬɛstɪ] is ‘to listen’, can be either transitive or intransitive, while xalhesti is ‘to make listen’ and by extension, ‘to warn, to make heed’. So we can increase the valency of these verbs with xa-, regardless of whether they are intransitive or transitive to begin with. Some of the resulting meanings of the causative forms have become idiomatic, such as zaryxía [zary’xia] ‘to rust’ and xazaryxia ‘to renounce’. The latter has moved completely into its metaphorical meaning, which has now become its primary sense.

Rílin also has a number of lexical causatives. zansa ‘to kill’ has no etymological relation to lemua ‘to die’. But zansa replaces any instance of *xalemua, which is not attested. Similarly, saísa ‘to rise’ and hare ‘to raise’ have no structural or etymological relationship, but the latter can be said to be a (semantically) causative form of the former.

Karkin, another of my conlangs, has an active-stative aligment system. Karkin has four causative morphemes, each of which shows a different implication about harm and benefit on the part of the causer and/or causee.

Type 1: Karkin causative Type 1 implies a benefit for the causee of the action (the one who was caused to act).

məl-a-i ava-a mi                        shoʔonthe-‘ə  pa ʃtuxtə-peq-aː

mother-1S.POSS.A father-1S.POSS to river-P PART cross-CAUS-PST

‘My mother made my father cross the river (it was good for him/he liked it)’

You can identify this causative by use of the morpheme –peq– preceding the tense morpheme at the end of the verb. Avaa ‘my father’ is in an oblique case, shown by the postposition mi.

Type 2: Karkin causative Type 2 implies harm or misfortune toward the causee.

məl-a-i                ava-a-ʔə           shoʔonthe-ʔə pa      ʃtuxtə-vur-aː

mother-1S.POSS.A father-1S.POSS-P river-P                PART    cross-CAUS-PST

‘My mother made my father cross the river (it was bad for him/he didn’t want to)’

This kind of causative is marked by the verbal morpheme -vur-. It also marks the causee, avaa, with a patient marker instead of an oblique one: -ʔə.

Type 3ː Karkin causative Type 3 implies neutrality for the causee as to benefit/harm.

məl-a-i ava-a mi                        shoʔonthe-‘ə  pa ʃtuxtə-χe-aː

mother-1S.POSS.A father-1S.POSS to river-P PART cross-CAUS-PST

‘My mother made my father cross the river (it was neutral)’

This kind of causative is marked by the verbal morpheme –χe-. The causee is marked obliquely with –mi-.

Type 4: The final causative type implies mutual benefit between causer and causee.


məl-a-i ava-a mi                         shoʔonthe-‘ə pa   ʃtuxtə-li-aː

mother-1S.POSS-A father-1S.POSS to river-P           PART    cross-CAUS-PST

‘My mother made my father cross the river (it was mutually beneficial)’

This type of causative uses the –li– morpheme and marks the causee with oblique mi.

~

I’m going to end or at least pause my discussion of causatives. Next time, I will likely write about applicatives. This is one subject I didn’t have time to discuss in my presentation of this topic, so I’ll be pleased to put my thoughts into words.

Naming conventions in Rílin: names of people

~ mnransdellgreen ~ Leave a comment

I have been thinking a lot lately about names. In a language, names have a variety of ways they may manifest. Some are derived from older words in the language, some are identical to contemporaneous words, and some need certain morphology to indicate that they are, in fact, names, and not just regular words.

Rílin Given Names

In my various conlangs, I’ve taken different approaches to naming people. In Rílin, for example, there are specific name morphemes that mark a word as a person’s name. Some of these are gender specific, and some are gender neutral. Some have roots are traceable to either Rílin or Old Rílin words, but some do not have even discernable meaning. Below are some examples.

Feminine Names

Some feminine name suffixes include: -tót, -í, -u, -in/-ín, -ló

The following names are all derived from contemporary Rílin words, which become names with a suffix. (You can click on each name to hear it spoken.)

Bishéín [ˈbɪʃein] – from bishé ‘bright’
Esuí [ˈɛsui] – from esu ‘griffin’
Fylûlatót [fyˈlʌlatot] – from fylûla ‘bird’
Ítshaló [iˈtʃalo] – from ítsha ‘luck’
Kisin [ˈkɪsɪn] – from kis ‘honeybee’ or maybe kis ‘slender’
Mímin [ˈmimin] – from mím ‘cute, little’
Nesú [ˈnɛsu] – from nes ‘graceful’

 -tót-í-ú-in/-ín-ló
bishé ‘bright’   Bishéín 
esu ‘griffin’ Esuí   
fylûla ‘bird’Fylûlatót    
ítsha ‘luck’    Ítshaló
mím ‘cute, little’   Mímín 
kis ‘honeybee’   Kisin 
nes ‘graceful’  Nesú  
Various Rílin word roots paired with naming suffixes can create names. These names are specifically feminine names.

Not all Rílin names have clear or discernible meanings. They may still include some of the typical suffixes, but when detached from the rest of the word, that series of sounds does not necessarily make up a Rílin word.

Änsu [ˈænsu]
Äshtín [ˈæʃtin]
Alaí [ˈalai]
Bûlaísí [bʌˈlaisi]
Nímu [‘nimu]
Silin [ˈsɪlɪn]
Tsilu [ˈtsɪlu]
Tsheló [ˈtʃɛlo]

Masculine Names

Some suffixes are masculine, such as -n, -ó, -a, -ret.

Awun [ˈawun] – from awu ‘upright’
Bynóret [ˈbynoɾɛt] – from bynó ‘morning’
Daghóra [daˈɣoɾa] – from daghóra ‘sacrifice’
Evekaret [ɛˈvɛkaɾɛt] – from eveka ‘streak, brook’
Fífaía -[fiˈfaja] – from fífaí ‘advantage, benefit’
Gómó [ˈgomo] – from góm ‘thought, mind, know’
Kér̂a [ˈkeʂa] – from kér̂u ‘step forward, put (oneself) forward’

 Some names may use naming suffixes but have indeterminate root meanings.
Ekhéla [ɛkˈhela]
Feneret [ˈfɛnɛɾɛt]
Gíŕan [ˈgiʐan]
Kedûn [ˈkɛdʌn]
Pirór̂nó [pɪˈɾoʂno]
Shíburet [ˈʃibuɾɛt]
Óŕina [oˈʐɪna]

Gender Neutral Names


Other name suffixes are gender neutral, such as -ja, -bí, and -tos. These could be used for a person of any gender. Some of these names are very old and no longer have clear roots.

Béíntos [ˈbeintɔs] – unknown root
Ískesébí [iskɛˈsebi] – from ískesé ‘high, tall’
Jenja [ˈjɛnja] – probably from jen ‘day’
Kótos [ˈkotɔs] – maybe from kó ‘intention, meaning’

Other names may not include a suffix at all. Most of these names can be used regardless of gender.

Amlim [ˈamlɪm]
Köle [ˈkølɛ]
Ŕetsŭ [ˈʐɛtsɯ]
Nemne [ˈnɛmnɛ]
Valhén [ˈvaɬen]

Rílin Family Names

Rílin family names come after given names. Names are inherited by children from their parents. Female children inherit their mother’s name, and male children their father’s name (typically, although there are exceptions to this). Therefore, they are somewhat matronymic and patroymic in function, although they also act as family names since there is no other inherited name for most Rílin people.

For example, Silin, a middle-aged Rílin woman, would have her mother’s last name, Bízunla. Her husband, Nósh, would have his father’s name, Ínómí. Their son would take his father’s name too. Family names often concern personal traits, origins, trades, and skills. Bízunla comes from bízun ‘alarm, alert’, with a possible agentive suffix -la. So the original meaning might have been “one who warns or foretells”. Ínómí looks like the word ínó ‘color’ plus a genitive suffix –mí, so might mean “with color, of color”. This could either have originally referred to a personal trait (some color of the body–hair, eyes, skin, or even clothing) or it could have referred to a colorful place of origin, like a green forest or floral garden, etc.

These are just a few points concerning Rílin naming conventions. In the future, I will write a bit about Rílin nicknames as well as expand on naming conventions of other cultures across Aeniith. Thanks for reading!

I liiiive~

~ mnransdellgreen ~ 1 Comment

Or should I say: kyílaíkim!

It’s been a while! I have been involved in so many things recently, not least of which was finishing my PhD in December 2022! Now that I am now longer writing my dissertation, I have more time.

What is new in Aeniith?

Well, I began some preliminary work on a non-linear, multi-modal writing system. I also structured a language that it is used for, although only the basics of that are done. The orthography is based on shapes, color, and other features of abstract pictoral representations. Essentially, different morphemes of this rather agglutinative language are represented variously by shapes, colors, etc. featured in what are basically pictures. There is a basic template, onto which different additional shapes in different colors can be added. These add the “flavor” of the verb, which is the inflectional morphology.

Below, you can see the verb root, which is written in a syllabary, below the “morphological seed pod”–the non-linear portion–which adds morphology to the root. For the first picture, the word written is ahkmaunier ‘you’re swimming’. The root is mauni ‘swim’, which is written in black near the bottom. The purple sides mean ‘indicative mood’, the green is ‘present tense’, the rising sprout shape is ‘continuative aspect’, while the red outer edges indicate the 2nd person singular ‘you’. In terms of the break down of the sounds of the verb, you can find it below:

a-hk-mauni-er-∅
prs-cont-swim-2s-ind

The next picture, just above, represents the verb “may they thrive”. The same basic shape is the same–see the verb root written in black at the bottom. The colors and internal shape are different though. The past tense e- is represented in the orange. The hortative morpheme, -t- is represented by the seed dot in the center. Yellow sides represent the 3rd person singular, while the subjunctive mood –o is indicated by the blue color of the basic “pitcher” shape.

Now above, there is another example. This time, the root is nari- ‘dream’. The basic color purple indicates, again, the indicative mood, which is zero marked in this language. e-, the past tense, is represented by the center orange color. Continuative aspect -hk– is clear from the rising sprout shape. The brown sides indicate 1st person singular -(e)t.

e-hk-nari-et-∅
pst-cont-dream-1s-ind
‘I was dreaming’

Here is another example. This one represents the word ahkrōtaiam ‘he is sowing seeds’, with some additional phonological and phonetic representationss: /aʰkroːˈtaiam/ [aʰkɾoːˈtajəm]

Here is another verb, akatarietura ‘I want to care for you’. This verb incorporates object marking, which is demonstrated by the yellow vines that wrap around the outer brown ‘petals’. The upper version is simpler, while the bottom version is a little fancier.

Above is a breakdown of this same word, with another version of it written/drawn. Also included here are a morphemic gloss of the word, and some examples of verb roots.

prs-vol-A-care.for-1s-2s-A
a-k-(a)-tarie-t-ura-a
akatarietura
‘I want to care for you’

I will likely be expanding this system, as well as the language it was created for, in the next few months. Stay tuned.

~Mintaka

Some Lexember examples: new words in conlangs

~ mnransdellgreen ~ Leave a comment

December is the month that conlangers of all kinds participate in something called Lexember. We create a new word (in the lexicon) for our conlang(s) every day of the month. I’ve been participating and sharing words largely through tumblr (user: aeniith) and twitter (@MintakaGlow). Here are a few from the first days so far.



Rílin

Dec 1:

íha [ˈiha], [v tr/intr] : [1] forgive, pardon; accept, understand; [2] know, acknowledge, recognize; [3] bring attention to, point out, remark on; [4] notice, realize

Etymology: Possibly from iŵ- [iɸ] ‘take in, accept’ and ja ‘know’

Example:

íhazim kasa tañ lönenet naba ŵedínla
íha      -z        -im kasa       tañ        lön -en-et     naba                  ŵedí -n-la
forgive-pst.prf-1s already dist woman-pl-abs whatever wrongdoing-pl-instr
“I have already forgiven those women for any wrongdoing’

Karkin

Dec 2:

vkāmēgh [vkɑːˈmeːɣ] [v tr/intr] (ki-verb class) : [1] break out of, escape from within; [2] break down a wall or other barrier; [3] (fig) destroy a boundary, flout a rule, defy expectations

Etymology: From vkā ‘strike, hit’ and mēgh ‘run, run away’.

Example:

Psi  nux-ë     twë  qhrō    ki    vkāmēgh-ā  -yi         vuq     kuqhkë mi  ja   wëngi-ā   -pa   
dist girl-3s.p  who early part defy        -pst-3s.a    all       clan      gen part speak-pst-1s.a
“I spoke with that girl who had previously broken all the boundaries of her family clan.”

Rílin

Dec 3:

bióŝû [bɪˈoʃʌ] [v intr] : [1] walk precariously, walk on a slippery or icy surface; [2] be in a precarious or unsure state; [3] be in a risky state, ‘walk on thin ice’.

Etymology: From bió ‘slip, slide’ and [jó]ŝû ‘walk’.

Example:

Ŝy-ky  sé    zaín séfet   tû pre-t       pato        bióŝû -l -í
be-irr prox time now do care-abs because walk.slippery-prs.hab-2s.fam
‘Now is the time to take care because you are in a precious position’

Rílin

Dec 4:

móníhas [moˈnihas] [n, inan] : [1] portent, omen, sign; [2] hint, clue; [3] tell, revealing action.

Etymology: From móní ‘watch, guard’ and has ‘sign, signal’.

Example: Né      í-t     -íí          kuala              -n-et ómina-mí,    x-óly    -t      -aap      lí-et      
      if   look-npst-2s.fut constellation-pl-abs sky-gen  caus-solve-npst-3s.fut 2s-abs the

                 bí ǵom-et ka-ŝó      kalum-mí a       oma-mí.  
                 knot-abs two-adv world-gen and  soul-gen

“If you look into the constellations in the sky, it will let you untie the knot of both the world and the soul.”

Tosi

tūgh [tuːɣ] [n] : [1] face; [2] front; [3] cover, outside covering, skin; [4] sleeve, sock, outer layer (e.g. of a wrapping, of clothing); [5] protective layer, protection, assurance, aide, help, assistance, back-up, auxiliary force.

Etymology: From Old Tosi tūhuz- “face; scalp”

Example:

Tapi sur ja da chi tūgh i vis rīy.
imp angle vrblz 2s.fem gen face obj to sky
“Turn your face toward the sky”

Tosi

Dec 6:

gungar [ˈɡuŋɡar] [v, tr] : [1] chase, pursue; [2] hunt (e.g. animals); [3] fish, catch fish; [4] seek out, look for, search for.

Etymology: From gar ‘follow’, and gun-, an emphatic prefix (cf. gun ‘great, might’).

Example:
Na gangur na chi xeti gek i, gempe tapi ixari!
1s.f pursue 1s.f gen female.servant drunk obj please imp help
“I’m chasing after my drunken servant, please help me!”

Tosi

Dec 7:

hās [hɑːs] [v, tr] : [1] fill; [2] replenish; [3] add to, increase.

Etymology: From old Tosi hāh-, hāθ- ‘full, plentiful’

Example:
Tapi hās na chi kūn i ge na gō tiv gunāl.
imp fill 3s.f gen cup obj if 3sg.f be punct.fut empty
“Fill her cup if it is empty”


Rílin language: expression of sorrow and sympathy

~ mnransdellgreen ~ 1 Comment

Well, it’s been a while! I do want to get back in to posting things here, despite my busy workload. Maybe it’s even better for me to do so because of that workload.

Anyway.

In light the recent catastrophe in Paris, I have been thinking about how the Ríli form expressions of sorrow, sympathy, condolences, etc. Languages often have formalized/idiomized or set phrases for these kinds of expressions, so I thought it was important that Rílin did as well. Rílin culture emphasizes harmony, support, respect, and sensitivity to others’ emotions, so I wanted to make their phrases of sorrow and sympathy reflect some of those values too. All of the words and grammar used herein are extant parts of the Rílin language–I am configuring them in ways that seem appropriate.

Note: the variations on the way of saying ‘you’/’your’ are due to traditional Rílin’s (and Lunauli Rílin) way of distinguishing three levels of formality/familiarity for pronouns and persons (lí at the most familiar and zana at the most formal for ‘you sg.’).

Lilaíkim – ‘I am grieving/mourning/crying’ (this word lilaí also means to weep copiously)
lilaí-k-im
/lɪˈlaikɪm/
grieve-pres.prog-1sg

Lilaíkim líu/xyu/zanau – ‘I grieve with thee’
lilaí-k-im lí-u/xy-u/zana-u
/lɪˈlaikɪm ˈliu (ˈxyu) (ˈzanau)/
grieve-pres.prog 2sg-instr

R̂yla límu/xymu/zanamu imi – Lit., ‘I am in/with thy sorrow’
r̂y-la lí-mu/xy-mu zana-mu imi
/ˈʂyla limu (ˈxymu) (ˈzanamu)/
sorrow-instr 2sg-poss

Hestia(tíí)/(tyy)/(taa)ky – Lit. ‘may you recuperate/rest’
hestia-t-íí/t-yy/t-aa-ky
/hɛstɪaˈtiiky (hɛstɪatyyky)(hɛstɪataaky)/
rest-npst-2sg.fut-irr

Bítapky Démas/Ifinŝas líet/xyet/zanat – ‘May Déma/Ifinŝe embrace/aid thee’ (depending on which goddess you would like to reference)
bí-t-ap-ky Déma-s/Ifinŝe-as lí-et/xy-et/zana-et
/biˈtapky ˈdemas(ɪfɪnʃas) ˈliɛt (ˈxyɛt)(ˈzanat)/
embrace/aid-npst-3sg-irr Déma-erg/Ifinŝe-erg 2sg-abs

Rílin script

~ mnransdellgreen ~ 1 Comment

So you’ve all probably seen at least some of my numerous poems written in Rílin, along with their accompanying script. I wanted to explain how the alphabet for Rílin works.

It is pretty simple conceptually. Rílin traditionally uses a phonetic alphabet, where each letter corresponds to a phoneme (distinguished sound) in the language. Rílin has a large phonemic inventory (29 consonants and 13 vowels), so there are as many letters in the alphabet.

In the below image, you can see the IPA symbol for each Rílin phoneme, followed by (in brackets) the Romanized representation (sometimes there are variants available for those times when it is not convenient or possible to use diacritic marks)

rilinletters
Consonants

vowels
Vowels

 

Ori needed more declensions?

~ mnransdellgreen ~ Leave a comment

I decided Ori needs more nouns declensions. 😛

So here are two new celestial class declensions.

2nd declension (celestial)

These nouns often end in -n or -m.

Btw, the -∅ symbol in linguistics means ‘null’ or ‘nothing’. So that means the nom. sg. forms don’t add a suffix.

image

Using Calcurassen’s name as an example (in the singular, of course–there is only one of the God of Justice):

Calcurassen ryintat trulali ‘Calcurassen drinks wine’

Ti-clespes Calcurasseni astere lya. ‘Calcurassen’s jewel is bright’

Murlinis Calcurassene iyuru ‘A raven sees Calcurassen’

Hensapya Calcurassena maroi cyan ‘I gave praise to Calcurassen’

Calcurassenul minim cyan nalemapya peli. ‘By means of Calcurassen, I was able to find justice’

Hestinyal Calcurassenul lya. ‘Hope lies with Calcurassen’

Oa, Calcurassene! Maropye tyeli abarig! ‘Oh, Calcurassen! Give us blessings.’

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The next declension is also for celestial nouns–most of these ending in vowels.

3rd celestial declension

image

Examples:

Ti-hembe lilya rya. ‘The body of fresh water is small’ (Note that ‘small’ still agrees with embe–it just uses a different celestial (nom sg. suffix, the one from the very first celestial declension I introduced, which is -ya rather than -∅.)

Culleryal caben bellu. ‘The expanse of the world is wide’

Gilupye yalutyin tatyin ti-trahellet ‘Turn your eyes to the meteor shower’

…

Ok, you get the idea. 🙂

~

Mintaka

Orikrindian lore and legend

~ mnransdellgreen ~ 2 Comments

I want to do a new segment about Orikrindian lore and legend (which may expand to other cultures), small little blurbs about ideas that have been floating around my head for a while. They don’t really have a home yet so we’ll see what becomes of them.

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Today’s is about the Song of Esala. The word is not originally Ori, but comes from a nearby language from the mainland of Ei to the west. The word was originally Ashal, but changed over time and to fit Ori phonology a bit more closely.

The Song of Esala is a song that is supposedly divine in nature, or at least somehow supernatural. It is said to be heard in the wilderness when one is completely alone and can neither see, hear, nor sense in any way another person. It is at this time that one may hear the Song of Esala. What Esala is or means is not clear. There are competing etymological theories, variously saying that it is the name of a person, a place, or a concept.

To hear the Song of Esala is a disturbing experience. The listener will think they are going mad and may run even deeper into the wilderness, always avoiding the proximity of any other person. It is thought that this leads them to wander permanently and live like a wild person until a certain, unspecified time before their death, during which they will be released from the hold of the Song and “wake up” from their fervor or delirium. This time is usually months to years after first hearing the Song.

The Song is thought by some in Orikrindia to be a curse of the goddess Moltirin put upon those who have displeased her in some way. Others, however, consider it a kind of intense blessing given by the spirits of animals in the wild that have found a soul that they deem kindred to their own and wish to draw it in amongst themselves. This view is the predominant idea in Behr Gehen (country of the Ei Lands, west of Orikrindia). Those who return from being held by the Song are considered holy and are given special treatment upon their return to society.

Whatever the nature of the Song of Esala, it is a part of folklore that is commonly understood as one of the many risks of venturing into the wilds alone for lengths of time, both across Orikrindia and the Ei Lands.

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Mintaka

Ori derivational morphology

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So this is obviously a work in progress, BUT here are some new Ori derivational morphemes! Yay! I like them.

Derivational Morphemes

-u

This morpheme comes from the word hu‘one’, and it often added to adjectives to create a noun.

 

lil ‘small’ –> lilu ‘small one’

truma ‘red’ –> trumu ‘red one’

 

It can also be used with other nouns, however:

 

cleppa ‘poison’ –> cleppu ‘poisoned one’

 

-ya

 

-ya is a gerund marker; it nominalizes a verb (transitive or intransitive):

 

ta ‘speak’ –> taya ‘speaking’

aste ‘reckon’ –> asteya ‘mathematics’

pra ‘listen’ –> praya ‘listening; educational lecture’

lyeppe ‘enjoy’ –> lyeppeya ‘enjoyment’

clasin ‘become flat’ –> clasinya ‘flattening; (of a person) becoming boring’

 

 

-uya

 

-uya is a suffix that indicates ‘beginning of V/N’, meaning it can attach to either a verb or a noun.

 

Note that if there is a vowel at the end of the bound morpheme, that first vowel is deleted before -uya.

 

lyannis ‘make a pilgrimage’ –> lyannisuya ‘beginning of a pilgrimage’

ta ‘speak’ –> tuya ‘beginning of a speech’

syala ‘rule, reign’ –> syaluya ‘beginning of the reign of a king’

becul ‘cave’ –> beculuya ‘antechamber of a cave’

besti ‘earth, ground’ –> bestuya ‘top layer of soil’

cul ‘moon’ –> culuya ‘new moon’

Sometimes the meaning of this suffix implies smallness due to something being “only the beginning of [and no more]” V/N:

 

lar ‘laugh’ –> laruya ‘a short laugh, a clipped laugh’

lubela ‘secret’ –> lubeluya ‘just a little secret’

 

-on

 

-on is an augmentative suffix that applies to nouns.

 

lyuha ‘dog’ –> lyuhon ‘large dog’

ori ‘man’ –> orion ‘big man’

mil ‘tree’ –> milon ‘large tree’

 

-li

 

-li is the opposite of -on, a diminutive suffix for nouns.

 

lyuha ‘dog’ –> lyuhali ‘puppy’

bistraya ‘flower’ –> bistrayali ‘bud, small blossom’

coru ‘rock’ –> coruli ‘pebble’

bu ‘house’ –> buli ‘room inside a house, chamber’

hesta ‘mountain’ –> hestali ‘hill’

 

–e

-e is a common ending for adjectives (e.g. nale ‘true’, clippe ‘rotten’, balnye ‘great’). It can also function as a derivative morpheme for adjectivization from nouns.

 

Usually, if there is a final vowel on the base noun, it is replaced by -e.

 

hustu ‘belief, trust’ –> huste ‘trusting’

cleppa ‘poison’ –> cleppe ‘poisonous’

galacil ‘smoke’ –> galacile ‘smoky’

lubela ‘secret’ –> lubele ‘secret (adj.)’

roru ‘darkness’ –> rore ‘dark’

 

cli-/clip-

This is a pejorative prefix that usually affixes to nouns. It comes from the adjective clippe‘rotten, sour’. The cli- form precedes consonant-initial words, whereas the clip- form is used with vowel-initial words.

 

prasta ‘mind, thoughts; behavior, actions’ –> cliprasta ‘betrayal; treason’

olta ‘tomb’ –> clipolta ‘a badly made or ritualistically wrong or unclean burial’

gerum ‘death’ –> cligerum ‘a dishonorable death’

ha-

 

This prefix can be used as either an augmentative or an ameliorative (“good N”) prefix.

 

pyelli ‘pain’ –> hapyelli ‘great pain’

selis ‘teacher’ –> haselis ‘a good teacher’

lyuha ‘dog’ –> halyuha ‘a particularly loyal dog’

bela ‘word’ –> habela ‘eloquence’

belta ‘wind’ –> habelta ‘a sudden warm wind in the winter’

 

Mintaka2

~ mnransdellgreen ~ 3 Comments

Working on the pantheon of Orikrindia. This is part 1, the first three members.

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Orikrindian pantheon

Apyolus– Father God – God of Fire, Lava, Volcanoes, War, Season of Summer, the Sun (Worshipped as Force of Creation, as a Progenitor of all life, a driving mechanism of all living things)

Epithets: Ti-Hasterya Apyasye (The Light of Fire), Ti-Lyaya Iyutreseya (The All-seeing Sun), Yalus (Eye), Tetuya Huseya (First Father), Ti-Hupuse (The Knowing), Yoris (Watcher)

Apyolus is worshipped as a creator of life, a driver of existence. Without Apyolus it is believed all things would be as dead and empty husks, existing the likeness of life but without the crucial spark of consciousness.

The priesthood is Apyolus is all-male and open to those who have fathered at least one child. Their temples tend in be in cities, at the feet of volcanoes, and in the southern most reaches of Orikrindia. In the summer is the Festival of Fire, wherein people make material sacrifices to the fire in hopes of gaining such boons as: fertility/children, health good crops, warmer weather in winter, renewed physical and mental vigor.

Hestaya: Mother Goddess – Goddess of the Mountains, Air, Wind, Cold Weather, Snow, Ice (Worshipped as a stable force in the world, a protector, defender) –

Epithets include: Ti-Nimaya (the Mother), Ti-Nimaya Balnyeya (the Great Mother), Nimaya Coruni (Mother of Stone), Corus Cacalsas (Undying Stone), Crestenya Astersye (Kindler of Light [e.g. lightning via storms])

Prayer to Hestaya:

‘The solidness of the mountain

of stone

of ice

the movement of wind

the forbidding power of storms

the threat of winter

the protective blanket of snow covering the earth,

this our Mother

the Mighty

and the True

the One Who Covers,

The Kindler of Light

The Mother of Stone,

Undying and Eternal

Her light will find you

In the dark

Her stones surround you

Where no enemy can pierce’

Moltirin– Goddess of the Forest:also matron goddess of mysteries, vengeance, the past, memory, rebirth/reawakening, justice, lost things, women who have died in childbirth, dead children, men who have died in battle, storms, and those who have been wronged.

Associated with: birds of prey (especially ravens and vultures and other carrion creatures), wolves, snakes, spiders, vines/plants/trees, the color green/black/grey

Epithets: Ti-Roruya (The Dark), Cyentas Nastas (Wise Aunt), Emas Tin-Mulyurana (Woman of the Forests), Cyeltenalenya (Revenger), Murlinis (Raven)

Moltirin is equally feared and loved. She is the sister of Hestaya, who is married to Apyolus.

She inhabits all forests and is a very mysterious figure, rarely responding to the entreaties of humankind. When she does, though, it is with ferocity and sincerity. Moltirin may take the form of a young or very old woman. Prayers to Moltirin are given by those who have been wronged, those who are lost, who are pariahs, those whose honor has been destroyed (either by themselves or others). She is a protector of women and children, occasionally protecting them via deception or violence. She keeps the souls of those who die within her woods, as well as the souls of the drowned. These spirits are said to wander the places where they died, as it is there that they are with Moltirin.

Devotees to Moltirin often live in forests as hermits or wise women. They, like their goddess, are both feared and respected. Many work as apothecaries as well, specializing in both healing substances and poisons. In Orikrindia, one might visit a Woman of the Woods (as they’re typically called) to procure a less-than-legal concoction for whatever need.