Showing posts with label conlang. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conlang. Show all posts

Thursday, February 10, 2022

Military basic

 Another reddit post saved here for posterity. Most of it is quotes from my caste post, I'll only copy the new stuff over:


So basically, the basic military structure is officers who were born into the profession (but not rank/command, which is granted by a political leader) heavily supplemented by mercenaries, professionals who weren't born with the right to be an (official) military leader, and conscripts when needed.

Anyway, let's go more in-depth, both in sociology and linguistics. First is the root SRS itself, which deals with conflict and fighting Srīsu ends up meaning "fighter, one who is prone to conflict" and is a generic word for a professional warrior. It is also one of the main components of many military related compounds, like srīsuzō kdīhuzōt "horseman, someone who fights on horseback" (literally "riding fighter") or srīsuzō āwībthzōt "guardian, blood knight, protector by force" (lit. "protecting warrior"). Many times though, people will simply be referred to by their role/weapon like pmīfuzō "spearman" or thtūzōzō "archer". A scout would be a zhilaqzō (lit. "one who walks quietly, stalker").

The generic word for a commander (of any size unit or of a ship) is phruyāzō "commander" but in practice it usually refers to someone who isn't coordinating multiple officers, only regular soldiers. Higher ranks could come from compounds like phruyāzo únukhāzōt "general" (lit. "unifying commander") or from other roots such as jqunāzō "strategist, planner, general" (JQN relates to plans and schemes). There's also mīcphoāb phīmpot ("father's mind") which is mostly a poetic word referring to the warrior caste itself but can also poetically refer to the top general of a high king (when one of those manages to establish himself).

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Introducing the Yole-Chort [Cxernian] languages

 So I've been meaning to do a language family for a while and finally got around to sketching it out. Originally I wanted to do a proto-lang as it truly should be: constructed from the daughter languages. Well that proved unfeasible, so instead my current strategy is thinking of a word in a daughter language and then working backward. Not as cool, but a lot easier. I am going to try to keep the proto-lang fairly unspecified though. As far as world building is concerned, this family is the dominant language on the west continent, which goes from about the equator to quite south. There's other families there (and plenty of substrate influence) but it's still by far the largest. Anyway, some history.

Kikxotian explorers first encountered Cxernian speakers on the islands that stretch between the Moon People's home and the western continent. Eventually after reaching the main continent itself, some clever people started to notice minor similarities between the languages of the islands (the so called Yolean languages) and the languages the dominated the coast. More exploration eventually uncovered more language with similarities. After deciding that Proto-Viggo-Viggo wasn't a very informative name, they decided to name the family after the word for "person" in two of the languages, hence Yole from the language of Greater Rock Island (one of the Far Island languages and the first encountered by Kikxotian explorers) and Chort from Central Plateau Mountain Valley (the largest of the languages spoken in the mountains). Cxern (possibly [cχʷərn] but the actual pronunciation of X is unknown) is the reconstructed word for "person" in their reconstructed ancestor, hence the other name for the family, the Cxernian languages.

Proto-Yole-Chort was likely spoken some 6 to 7 thousand years before present in the mountains central to the continent. This placement is based on some of the reconstructed words, its location in the middle of the current spread, and because the greatest diversity is still found in that region. It's thought that the Cxernian languages spread with the invention of agriculture, especially the sweet potato. Some reconstructed words relating to this location and time period include *adiH "sweet potato" (seen in GRI as tete, in CPMV as adha and in Imperial Great Delta as arè), *QuSayaG "mountain peak" (GRI kwena "heaven", CPMV ahuśā "high holy place", IGD kohě "mountain") and *kelun "terrace, garden plot" (GRI hulo "earthworks", CPMV ūt "garden", IGD klung "paddy"). They likely had domesticated yaks or some other beast of burden before the family broke up based on words like *muNis "beast of burden" (reflexes include GRI mulisa "trade boat", CPMV amume "yak", IGD pùnê "water buffalo").

The internal classification of the Cxernian languages is not well understood. It's hypothesized that there's between 4 and 8 primary branches. The Badlands and Forest languages are well accepted as forming a Western Branch, and the Upriver and Delta languages are often (but controversially) linked together in an Eastern branch on basis of the treatment of *Q as /k/, and some lexical similarities (the Island family is occasionally placed here as well, and sometimes even as a branch of the Delta languages). The Mountain Valley languages are traditionally treated as their own branch. The so called Jungle Farmer and Jungle Hunter languages are often linked together but the evidence is lacking despite their close proximity (it's mainly typological as the so-called jungle languages are much more dependent marking than most Cxernian languages). Finally, the poorly attested Hill languages (known mostly as an ancient substrate of West Mountain Valley languages and as a small remnant dialect cluster deep in the mountains) are conventionally treated as part of the Western branch but it may actually be it's own primary branch or better treated as coordinate with Proto-Western instead of a daughter. 

The subbranches of the primary branches are better understood. There's well over 30 surviving branches today, many of which have time depths of over 2000 years (and thus are comparable to Romance or Germanic languages in diversity). There's also many dead, but influential branches such as the so called "Old Raiders" language which left its loans and influence across the western part of the continent 2500 years ago (so before the Kikxotian branch of the Western Plains languages separated from its parent!) and most of the Hill branch. A lot of the subbranches seemed to have started diversifying around 2000 years ago, which incidentally is around when the Proto-Kikxotians headed east. Maybe there was some sort of global climate shock which influenced migratory patterns or something.

My current game plan is to define sound changes up to branching points, since I have their spatial and temporal positions well defined and from there create languages as needed. And if there's nowhere a language idea fits, I can just establish a new branch somewhere. Hard parts right now are grammar evolution and making sure I get both family internal and external loans right. There's a lot of other languages on the continent after all and I don't want to have a simple grammar in the protolanguage but I also want a very typologically diverse family, so we'll see what happens. Another issue is deciding what amount of sound change is sufficient for a new branch and over a given time period. By the end, I should have about Indo-European levels of diversity, so a lot. As for storage, I'll probably keep the proto-language's dictionary in a spreadsheet, since that will make tracking the different branches much easier (and in theory I can even automatically apply sound changes). But I think I have a good start.



Saturday, November 13, 2021

Names and Introductions

 Just copying a reddit post here to preserve it. I really need to do better about differentiating the dialects, though I guess these prompts didn't really give much room to showcase some of the more unique features.


For Toúījāb Kīkxot:

Ustū ūíick Kōzurīkkab ūmpa ūwiny līúan íāpī. Ustū pmīfuzō ocāk nphuvatū īn rxību. Ūtiúj toúījāb kīkxot

[ʊstu: ʔu:jɪts ko:tʃʊri:kǝ vu:mpǝ u:ɹɪn li:wǝn jɑ:fi: ʊstu:p mi:ħʊtʃ ōtsɑ:k ŋəp'ʊʕǝθu: wi:n rǝʃi:vʊ u:θi:dz dɔwi:dzɑ:b ki:kʃɔt]

Ustū ūíick     Kōzur-īkkab ūmpa   ūwiny     līúan  íāpī. Ustū pmīfu  -zō ocāk   nphuva-tū   īn  rxību.  Ūtiúj toúīj   -āb  kīkxo-t
1S.N have_name bird -shine and.SS have_year twenty four. 1S.N spearer-M  and.DS caste -1S.N DEF hunter. speak language-CMP god  -CMP.

"My name is Kōzurīkkab and I am 24. I am a spearman of the hunter clan. I speak Toúījāb Kīkxot"

Key thing that isn't clear from the translation is that being a spearman in the hunter clan is very low status (relative to other hunters and to other soldiers) because it's technically working out of caste. I used neutral pronouns here.

This is a fun little prompt, I might do more when I get home tonight (in other languages and in dialects).

e:

The above was the standard dialect, but let's meet someone from the coast [the next few are close enough grammatically that I'm not going to gloss unless asked].

Stū ūíezk Xōwokpot ūmp ūwen līúan rāv. Baberm xīpltū qal lōbop dagnatmā. Īw ūpegd ges xīpltū úethl nphavmā. Ūteúj túījāb kīkxat

[stu: ʔu:jɛtʃ kʃo:ɹɔkpɔt u:m pu:ɹɛn li:wǝn ra:ʕ bǝbɛrm ʃi:pl̩tu: ɢǝl lo:bop dǝgnǝtma: i: ɹu:pɛgd gɛs ʃi:pl̩tu: wɛtˤɫ nǝpˤǝʕma: u:tɛwdʒ dwi:dʒa:b ki:kʃǝt]

"My name is Xōwokpot and I am 35 years old. I help my husband in his shop. We are rich but my husband complains about his clan. I (we) speak Toúījāb Kīkxot"


Up near the mountains, we meet a young boy.

Yån uíeck Win umpa uwen xayu. Wawibuth kobuk gundåy dichhåhån. Saxo monak lepha usapåpúågad ages lepha usapåkúobuk. Yån utejetúåúijåb kikxåt tíåúijåb viggå kmurutxíub

[hɑn ujets kɹin umpǝ uɹen ʃǝhu ɹǝɹivut' kovu gundɑh dits'ɑʔɑn sǝʃo monǝk lep'ǝ usǝfɑpwɑɣǝ ðǝɣes lep'ǝ usǝfɑkwovuk hɑn uθedzetwɑwidzɑb kikʃɑ tjɑwidzɑb ʕigɑ kŋurutɕub]

"My name is Win and I am 11 years old. I watch sheep with my brothers. We don't have much money but we have lots of sheep. I speak Toúījāb Kīkxot and I speak the Mountain People's language (Toúījāb Vīggo Kmūrit) too"

Asking him to say the same thing but in Toúījāb Vīggo Kmūrit/ Towwu pũ saho

Rĩ ãnã hã pũ yiko. Hã pũ rãnã sahu. Hã võ hã pũ viukka e xa’u mõ feode ũppõ. Saho pũ paga issẽ age saho pũ xa’u reinõ. Hã go towisa kiso võ towwu pũ saho bilau towwu

[ɾĩ ʔɑ̃nɑ̃ hɑ̃ pũ jiko hɑ̃ pũ ɾɑ̃nɑ̃ sɑhu hɑ̃ xʷõ hɑ̃ pũ xʷiuk:ɑ ʔe xɑʔu mõ ɸeode ʔũp:õ sɑho pũ pɑgɑ ʔis:ẽ ʔɑge sɑho pũ xɑʔu ɾeinõ hɑ̃ go towisɑ kiso xʷõ tow:u pũ sɑho bilaw tow:u]

Rĩ  ãnã hã pũ  yiko. Hã pũ  rãnã sahu. Hã võ  hã pũ  viukka        e      xa’u  mõ  feode ũppõ. 
Win COP 1S GEN name. 1S GEN year 11.   1S and 1S GEN older_brother D.R/NR sheep HAB BENE  watch.
Saho pũ  paga  issẽ  age saho pũ  xa’u  reinõ. Hã go    towisa  kiso   võ  towwu pũ saho bilau towwu
1P   GEN money small but 1P   GEN sheep big.   1S D.R/R Toúījāb Kīkxot and Towwu pũ saho can   speak

"Rin is my name. My years are eleven. My brothers and I watch over sheep. We don't have much money but we have a lot of sheep. I can speak Toúījāb Kīkxot and Towwu pũ saho."


An old man sits on the docks in the Central Islands

Yān ūíesk Osīlīkī ages rīnkoān íeska yān Māyíūs. Ūren kas līúan teya. Sbīmuzō yān, uynasū sbīmuzō pīhmoān. Īn rōsus olsúīg makāyntah umkahū, osūmah sub. Tūtīs toúīsāb kīksot gundāy nesap ages ūserl ūtīs toúīsāb sbīmut het toúīs pīhmotān

[hä:n u:jesk ɔsi:li:ki: ǝges ri:nkɔä:n jeskǝ hä:n mä:hju:s u:ren kas li:wǝn tehǝ sbi:mʉco: yä:n ʉhnǝsu:s bi:mʉco: pi:ʔmɔä:n i:n ro:sʉs ɔlswi:g mǝkä:hn̩tǝʔ ʉmkǝʔu: ɔsu:mǝʔ sʉb Tu:ti:s tɔwi:sä:b ki:ksɔt gʉndä:h nesǝp ǝges u:ser lu:ti:s tɔwi:sä:b sbi:mʉt het tɔwi:s pi:ʔmɔtä:n]

Yān  ūíesk     Osīl  -ī  -kī  ages rīnko -ān íeska yān Māyíūs. Ūren       kas līúan  teya.   Sbīmu -zō  yān, uynasū  sbīmu -zō  pīhmo -ān.
1S.N have_name gather-BEN-God but  friend-1S call  1S thinker. have_years two twenty twelve. fisher-man 1S,  equally fisher-man father-1S.
Īn  rōsus ol<s>úīg   makāyntah umkahū, osūmah    sub. T~  ūtīs  toúīs   -āb  kīkso-t   gundāy nesap     ages ūserl ūtīs  toúīs   -āb  sbīmu -t   het toúīs    pīhmo -t  -ān
DEF frog  <DEF>treat locals    evilly, believers too. HAB~speak language-CMP god  -CMP with   travelers but  like  speak language-CMP fisher-CMP REL language father-CMP-1S

"My name is Osīlīkī but my friends call me Māyíūs. I am 52 years old. I am a fisherman, like my father. The soldiers don't treat locals well, even believers. I speak Toúījāb Kīkxot with travelers, but prefer to speak Toúījāb Sbīmut, which is my native language."

And now in his native tongue, Knǝnʔtǝǝʔ

Mã plɛ̃g Osiiliikii dǝd nköm mã splɛ̃g Mäyũs. Mã lɨlããp kǝs liiwǝn tehǝ lrããp. Mã mǝmusäyäw, mǝmusäyäw tdɔ̈b mã. Hrëëy jɛt hǝhcɨ̃t mkäntǝǝʔ, kikiiso ʔǝk. Mã kntəəʔ knənʔtəəʔ kiiso thiʔ mäwãy, dǝd mã mwɔɔt knənʔtəəʔ kbǝ tdɔ̈b

[ma̰plɛ̰ŋ̥ osi:li:ki: ɗǝd̥̚ n̩ko̤m̥ ma̰splɛ̰ŋ̥ ma̤jṵs ma̰lɨla̰ˀa̰p̚ kǝs li:wǝn̥ tehǝ l̩ɾa̰ˀa̰p̚ ma̰mǝmusa̤ja̤w ma̰mǝmusa̤ja̤w tɗɔ̤b̥̚ ma̰ʔ hɾe̤:j ɲɛt̚ hǝhcɨ̰t̚ m̩ka̤ntǝ:ʔ kiki:so ʔǝk̚ ma̰kn̩tǝ:ʔ knǝnʔtǝ:ʔ ki:so tʰiʔ ma̤wa̰y ɗǝd̥̚ ma̰mwɔ:t̚ knǝnʔtǝ:ʔ kɓǝ tɗɔ̤b̥̚]

Mã=plɛ̃g      Osiiliikii dǝd nköm   mã=s-   plɛ̃g      Mä-yũs.   Mã=lɨ- lããp     kǝs_liiwǝn_tehǝ l<r>ããp.
1S=have_name Osiiliikii but friend 1S=CAUS-have_name AG-think. 1S=PRG-grow_old fifty_two       <INST>year.
Mã=m- <mw> <ä> <y>   säw,  <mw> msäyäw tdɔ̈b   mã. Hrëëy jɛt hǝ~hcɨ̃t    m-<ä>kntǝǝʔ,  ki~ kiiso ʔǝk.
1S=AG-<RFL><AG><CAPT>fish, <RFL>fisher father 1S. Frog  NEG PL~respect AG-<AG>speak, DIM~Kikxo too.
Mã=kntəəʔ <nʔ> kntəəʔ kiiso thiʔ mä-wãy, dǝd mã mwɔɔt knənʔtəəʔ kbǝ tdɔ̈b
1S=speak  <NOM>speak  Kikxo for  AG-go,  but 1S like  language  GEN father

"My name is Osiiliikii, but my friends call me Mäyũs. I am 52 years old. I am a fisherman, like my father. The frogs don't respect us Mkäntǝǝʔ, even followers of Kīkxo. I speak Toúījāb Kīkxot with foreigners, but I like my father's tongue."

 

Monday, November 1, 2021

88 lines about 44 Demons

A little Halloween special, let's learn about some of the demons (omūkaq) and monster the kikxotians believe in. A lot might be presented in more informal ways (only the second part of a reduplication for example, or using back reduplication to represent full reduplication). This isn't meant to represent a specific dialect (though some are regional monsters), it's to fit the semi-poetry of the piece. With all apologies to the Nails

  1. Vcūpa comes out the swamp to play; his stench makes me want to cry
  2. Olūgaw looks mighty nice but her teeth are no lie.
  3. Lālīwl feast till the sun comes up and starve throughout the day
  4. Yyīpu get you what you want, but you'll never be able to pay.
  5. Mrisu has an unnerving smile, with gifts that trap your soul
  6. Gdīku is much simpler, he'll just eat you whole.
  7. Dōkhol īkkabat looks pretty from a distance; but he'll steer you wrong
  8. Jarif cannot be seen, as you flee her mournful song.
  9. Pjūpō nimasat may be dead; you'd never know as you're chased
  10. Āginx āpijpat is a stout old chap; you must flee in haste.
  11. Rokāmr seems mighty harmless, as he sucks you in
  12. Ovūmac won't give you the time, not even when you sin.
  13. Lvutā mwomit is looking for a student, but her advice isn't prudent
  14. Olūvat puthlūt needs a teacher, but he's most impudent.
  15. Fqilu sees without eyes, his nose ensure you can't hide
  16. Wyīúu mkoqit approaches in confidence, a presence you mustn't abide.
  17. Omūlad bōmāshat is another sultry soul, she watches as you sleep
  18. Cuwphīcu is sailors' bane foremost, and drags slow ships into the deep.
  19. Tikat looks like a massive bat, from above he cracks your skull
  20. Zhimar stalks from underground, your bones won't make his teeth dull.
  21. Knupi takes things that are not his, gold is his bread and butter  
  22. Āruyt tībilat prefers your blood a la carte, as it flows into the gutter.
  23. Wixax can't move fast, so the trees are his base
  24. Shotūr will never move at all, yet you must beware his embrace.
  25. Thavdo literally cannot be described, an agony you can't survive
  26. Twuwi seems to be a peaceful field, until your footsteps turn it alive.
  27. Ksuphā is just a shadow, her presence wrecks your mind
  28. Sōfok úyukāt is a sickly light, stare too long to go blind.
  29. Zōtod cpuwāt teaches one thing: not every book is an ally
  30. Awābth must not be trusted, for he's the dark one's spy.
  31. Xsīmu īípachat walks in silence, as he sucks your life
  32. Tbīlu tdocit stays quiet too, but she prefers to use a knife.
  33. Khāpas rxībut is slow and meaty; hunt it and meet your doom
  34. Brumā thāxakhat moves you fast, in her hand your life shall zoom.
  35. Wxurā fōdāíat seeks his court, his words are little snares
  36. Rqīnu āxudcat wants your pity, never trust his wares.
  37. Karol preys on those with heart, your mercy shall be your end
  38. Khāmfukhā prays for those alone, his companionship is pretend.
  39. Fapōmuf has a fearsome sting, the pain will never leave
  40. Laíōpul lies in wait, to feed on those that grieve.
  41. Hnibu hunts in plain sight, his traps are travelers' rests,
  42. Smufā catches those who are tired, you'll wake up as he digests.
  43. Qcilu lives in dark caves, he makes our tunnels fall
  44. Khluzā, cursed be his name; he's the king of them all.

This of course is a small sampling of the demons in their world. Some are pretty normal to our sense of monsters, like the Pjūpō nimasat (lit. running corpse) which is basically just a revenant or the Omūlad bōmāshat (forbidden beauty) which is a classic ghost lady like a kuntilanak. Others aren't so much monsters in the way we think of them so much as archetypes of corrupted people, like the Hnibu (so-called builder) who kills people in collapsing buildings, the Āginx āpijpat (killing grinder) who is basically just a serial killer who disposes of the bodies by turning them into flour or the Ovūmac (self-centered person), an eerily beautiful spirit who encourages you to give up everything for nothing in return. Some are very animalistic like the bat-like Tikat (thing which descend from the sky) or the stinging bug Fapōmuf (great wasp). Some are actually more like cursed objects like Zōtod cpuwāt (devouring ink/the devil's ink) which grant wishes at the cost of your life or Rokāmr (great heap) which is a pile of stuff that eats people. And then there's the eldritch ones, like the Thavdo (flattening) which somehow forces people into 2-dimensions, the Twuwi (so called snowfield), which is a field of snow that eats people, or the Ksuphā (thing that makes others uncomfortable) which is a presence or being that drives people crazy.

Wednesday, September 1, 2021

More on TbKt dialects

 Just a couple notes, as inspired by a reddit post.


  • The islands dialect probably doesn't maintain the symmetrical voice system. Instead, it is strictly actor oriented at all times, much like its substrate languages. However the undergoer infix remains in a number of contexts. First of all, it is often used when the undergoer is relevant to the discourse, basically acting as a definiteness marker for undergoers. I haven't decided if this will include subordinate clauses or only happen in main clauses. It might be the case where it works as a definiteness marker in main clauses, but as a relative marker when the head is an object.
  • Other as of yet unused dialects include the Central Plains, the Lower Plains, probably one for the rivers/delta region and maybe some for the Western Plains as it slowly turns into related languages (though these might be better understood as sister languages not descended from Classical Kikxotian). The Central Forest region probably has one as well. Probably either Central Plains or Lower Plains is the prestige dialect and likely one of the two is also the most conservative/closest to Classical Kikxotian. This of course isn't everything but it helps fill in the map and create an actual dialect continuum defined by phonological changes. 
  • I want a dialect that has some consonant mutation. The basic idea is that loss of initial vowels (and final /ǝ/) resulted in a dialect where some class I and IV verbs are distinguished in transitivity only by lenition (and others not at all). Funnily enough (because I knew very little when making my roots 6+ years ago), in class I lenition would represent transitivity while in class IV it would represent intransitivity. My guess is that since class IV is a lot more common than class I, analogy would probably switch them to be the same (except maybe with some heavily used verbs). Not sure how this would interact with the undergoer voice, but if it does then there's also a set of verbs (Class II verbs and some ditransitive verbs) which have a mutation in said voice. For example the root NYK ("ear", I) vs TÚJ ("mouth", I) vs BFW ("hatred", IV):
    • ūniyk -> nīk "to listen"
    • niyka -> nīk "to hear something"
    • ūtiúj -> þīj "to speak"
    • tiúja -> tīj "to eat something
    • ūbifw -> ṿifā "to be afraid"
    • bifwa -> bifā "to hate something"
  • In general, I want to think more about grammar and syntax, not just phonology. Also define things without needing to get too strange, as some of my current dialects are weird (which is why I highlighted them)

e: I'm dumb, lenition marks intransitivity in both classes.


Wednesday, May 26, 2021

The Kikxotian Calendar

This goes way back to the beginning of Toúījāb Kīkxot. I one day I was biking and thinking as one does while biking dozens of kilometers a day in roughly memorized routes. A year can easily be divided into 13 months of 28 days, with one day to spare (most years). That day would probably have special meaning. What about a religion that views that as the day that their God takes a rest. You could have one set of believers that take that to mean that he isn't watching over them that day, removing them from his protection and therefore necessitating staying inside and being quiet. But then there could be a schism of people who saw that day as a gift from the God, a chance to let loose and party (even then I was aware that the concept of the calendar wasn't unique, my focus was on the religion elements, specifically the schism). Well that spiraled into what is TbKt today. Anyway, some key terms:

  • Mīcorū "day"
  • Mcurī "week"
  • Qúutī "month"
  • Wānay "year"

Days and years are the same length as on Earth. The Kikxotians divide the calendar into 14 solar months (which lines up with the 14 Shīyto; this was a recent change when I realized that 13*28=14*26), each named after common activities in them. I do not know what those are yet. The year begins and ends around the winter solstice. I decided on this (rather than spring) because winter is a dreadful time where people need a lot of help, so people need a lot of protection during it. Thus, he wants to be most rested for it, while people don't actually need that help in the booming times post harvest, near the end of his cycle. As far as what happens on this day, that depends on the sect. See, the original prophet said that Kikxo slept on that day but he didn't say what that meant. There was however, an understanding that you should be careful on that day, which turned into staying inside and not doing much of anything except sleep. The great schism happened a few hundred years later (about 1000 years before the "present"), when a new prophet declared that people had misunderstood Kikxo's will. He intended for people to rest like him, but that includes resting from fastidiously keeping every commandment. Many prophets and schisms later have resulted in the current practice which at the extremes is a day of absolute seclusion or a day of public hedonism. It's also apparently a day for sectarian conflict (in this case usually from the traditionalists who take advantage of Kikxo not looking to scare the reformists straight). Oh and leap years get 2 days of this "festival".

The weeks alternate between having 6 or 7 days, leaving each month with 26 days. The "extra" days are treated as minor festival days, where the devout like making extra sacrifices (and some sects even declare that Kikxo takes a nap on these days and acting accordingly). Market days vary based on location. This is an agricultural society, so people work most days and the length of weeks is less important than knowing when festivals (spread across the year) are.

 There are no fixed hours. Instead days are measured according to the relative position of the sun. They start with the morning (xōwok) at sunrise. From about 3 or so hours after sunrise to 3 or so hours after noon it's kīkobū. The late afternoon is lgīsa, which goes until about an hour before sunset. That time till the sky is completely dark is known as amkōq. Finally there is night (sāmaf) which is undivided until the next morning/day. In general, the Kikxotians are not fond of night or darkness, so there's not much nightlife that goes on. People go to bed (assuming it isn't too early) and wake up in the morning. If they wake up, they pray for protection from omūkaq (demons). Sometimes the early hours of night are known as thāxakh winagat (fire time), since it is customary to have a big fire in your house during that time. By analogy, the wee hours before or around dawn can be called thāxakh āwung (ash time), since the fire has mostly burned down by then (and āwung wīnig "ember" is too long). Note that this is one of the few uses of winag for fire, since it normally is the same as ash but obviously that doesn't work here.

So yeah, that's an overview of the Kikxotian calendar, which has since been adopted by their neighbors. Not too complicated, overall.

Īn Cōroj: A brief description of the World

I've been meaning to work on this for a while but keep getting busy (I started this in August 2020 apparently. But I'm finished with my first year and have a fairly lazy summer coming up, so I ope to do a fair bit of world building these next few months). Anyway, this is a whole bunch of background on the Kikxotian world so that the geography and context makes more sense for other posts. The core of this post was actually outlined in a reddit post I made around the end of September 2020, so I will copy and expand it from there. 

 The center of the kikxotian world (in a cultural sense, not a physical sense) is a very large bay. I've gone back and forth on it's actual size, but it's a few hundred miles across. A sea really. The Kikxotians live on the western side of this bay, with their core area being the area north of a major river up to the mountain range that separates this part of the continent from the rest of it, with their biggest city (usually the capital) on the coast just north of the delta. This is a region of rolling hills, grasslands and forests, not unlike the Midwest, California or the Western Cape. It's fairly Mediterranean in climate (but I'm not climatologist, so some things are just "a wizard did it"). These conditions prevail across the western subcontinent (since I guess it is that), though the further you get from the core kikxotian area, the more "barbaric" people get (but they're all basically relatives of TbKt), doing barbaric things like farming, being pastorialists and worshiping multiple gods who are suspiciously like the Shīyto. While I won't go into the full history of the Kikxotians here, it's thought that they basically moved into that region from the southwest some 1500-2000 years before.

I mentioned that there is a range of mountains cutting off the western part of the continent from everything else. These are very tall mountains, with a fairly inhospitalable plateau/desert near the top. Thus most travel outside the western subcontinent is done by boat. That being said, there are lots of people who live in the foot hills and lower plateaus of this mountain range. The most famous of these are the Be'oi kau Qqoi. They are shepherds, farmers (terrace and otherwise) and craftsmen. Some of their villages are on solid ground, however others are built directly in/on the cliffs. The most famous of their cities (in fact probably their only real "city") is near the headwaters of the big river, where there's some massive cliffs next to a water fall. Most of the city is on the plain, but some of it extends into the cliffs and up about 100 feet to the plateau above. There's even stairs carved directly into the rock going up to the top. Climatewise, this area is similar to the lowlands, though cooler and drier.

Going east from Kikxoland, you cross over many small to medium size islands. The largest of these is the home of the speakers of Knt, who are coastal fisherman, and their relatives. While in my head they are fairly tropical, really they are just wetter than Kikxotia, despite being at a similar latitude. I assume wind has something to do with this. Many of these islands are quite mountainous, with their own highland agriculturalists or hunter gatherer groups. I think the big island is actually a few thousand square miles, but I'd have to refer to the map again (actually it's not on the to-scale map yet, the scale of which I am still ambivalent about anyway. It's not projected either, though I bet I've made it to be mercantor).

 Keep going east and you'll reach another coast. This coast is littered with trading city states inhabited by the Mesin Uxlotsuz. Their core is centered around a delta which now that I look at it is probably a couple hundred miles further to the north of the Kikxotian capital. Imagine this area is quite a bit wetter an probably cooler than the kikxotian region. Chalk it up to that wizard again. Moving even more to the northeast, you hit a bunch of steppe.

As for all the other parts of that massive continent, I'm not really. I bet as you get north you eventually hit taiga and then tundra. There must be forests all over this continent as well, maybe especially to the southeast? A lot of really undefined things because I really just have this right now. 

There's another semi-defined continent to the south (at the nearest, a couple hundred miles from the northern continent). The northern part of this is home of Amt. They live on the coast, with a vast semi wet savanna to the south of them, ala the African Humid Period. Somewhere in this region is a set of highlands, where the Kélomèlo hail.   

 Head southwest from the main continent, crossing the ocean and you'll eventually reach another very large continent. Not much is known about this one yet, but it's the site of my next big project (an actual language family, among other things). The ocean is a lot easier to cross than the Atlantic, thanks to some nicely place islands.

And so there you have it, a very broad strokes description of the world. It's like the Mediterranean basically, which checks out since the kikxotians are basically space romans. Except not in space. But ancient Rome was defintely an influyence and something I use as a sanity check. As for my next posts, I need to do somethings on religion (Kikxotian or otherwise), put up some more profiles and maybe talk a bit about biology and this place's relationship with Earth. In fact, I can do a quick overview of that last one right now. This isn't Earth. However, it has the same size and location relative to its sun as Earth, which is important for the calendar system. Actually, I did a reddit post about the calendar today, I'll flesh that out tonight for here.



 

Saturday, August 1, 2020

A children's fable in Knt

Link to a story I wrote here https://www.reddit.com/r/conlangs/comments/i1wnpk/create_a_short_story_or_tale_that_native_speakers/g00q585/

Also all the info pasted below for reference

Knǝnʔtǝǝʔ

Ksaad sʔcteʔ so jɨ̃dlɨ̃d. So hɛɛs schuu hrëëy phũl nköm so. ʔɨ̈ʔ swleew phũl dchɛs thɛ̃ɛ̃n giik nɔk hwyrëëy. Dǝd mjälɨ̃d jɛt sbããk hwɨ̈j so. Syhrëëy süw ʔic so hpuup scɔʔ. Hwɨ̈j so hrëëy clör so skĩ thɛ̃ɛ̃n sǝsklïïk mhäyrëëy.

[ksäːd̥̚ sᵊʔcteʔ soɲɨ̰ɗlɨ̰d̥̚ soɦɛːs scʰuː hɾe̤ːj pʰṵl̥ nko̤m̥ so ʔɨ̤ʔ suleːw pʰṵl̥ dcʰɛs tʰɛ̰ːn̥ ŋiːk̚ nɔk̚ hwiɾe̤ːj ɗǝd̥̚ mᵊɲä̤lɨ̰d̥̚ ɲɛt̚ sɓä̤ːk̚ hwɨ̤ɲ̥ so siɦɾe̤ːj sṳw ʔic̚ sohpuːp̚ scɔʔ hwɨ̤ɲ̥ so hɾe̤ːj clo̤r̥ so skḭʔ tʰɛ̰ːn̥ sǝskli̤ːk̚ mɦä̤jɾe̤ːj]

Ksaad sʔ-   cteʔ      so=j<ɨ̃d>lɨ̃d.    So hɛɛs s-   chuu   hrëëy  phũl nköm   so.
Exist COUNT-possum    3s=<REL>lazy.   3S want CAUS-afraid frog   COM  friend 3s
ʔɨ̈ʔ  sw-   leew  phũl dchɛs thɛ̃ɛ̃n giik nɔk h<w> <y>   rëëy. 
TEMP COUNT-night COM  fog   3p    wait LOC <LOC><CAPT>frog. 
Dǝd m- j<ä> lɨ̃d jɛt s- bããk hwɨ̈j so.
But AGEN-<AGEN>lazy NEG CAUS-hide tail 3s
Sy- hrëëy süw ʔic so=h<p>uup scɔʔ. COUNT-frog feel.watched thus 3s=<INCH>watch bush.
Hwɨ̈j so hrëëy clör so skĩ thɛ̃ɛ̃n s~ s- klïïk m- h<ä> <y> rëëy.
tail 3s frog see 3s and 3p PLUR~CAUS-die AGEN-<AGEN><CAPT>frog

"There was a lazy possum. He wanted to scare frogs together with his friends. One foggy night they waited by the road. But the lazy one didn't hide his tail. A frog felt like he was being followed so he started watching the bushes. The frogs saw him and killed all the frog-catchers."

This tale works on a couple levels. On the one hand, it's about being careful and says that if you aren't careful, your laziness will hurt you and your friends. But it is also a reminder of the wars of resistance they fought against the Kikxotians, hidden in animal language so that it is easier to pass off as just being an old story. There's a similar story, often told by the ktek ("tribespeople") in which a ryiid ("parakeet") sees the possum's tail and warns the frogs. This is used to further explain why the people of the interior don't like the coastal dwellers.

Friday, May 29, 2020

Kikxotian Proverb, religion and animals

Just linking to a reddit post I did today with a Kikxotian proverb plus a bunch of talk about how animals work.

https://www.reddit.com/r/conlangs/comments/gss3ra/aphorisms_proverbs_and_sayings_22/fs7yzl7/

I'll paste it here too

Toúījāb Kīkxot - Hard mode
Ōmūfakh vit ayyōp phophalgīí ūkītos ūmpa mōnak gaxitpa
[oːmuːħǝk' ʕɪ θǝhoː p'ɔp'ǝlgiː juːxiːθɔ suːmpǝ moːnǝ gːǝʃɪtpǝ]
<ōCūCaC>.MFKh vit <aCCōC>.YYP ~<oCCīC>.Ph<al>GÍ ūkītos ūmpa mōnak <CiCCa>.G<ax>TP
<AGN.IV>apostasy REL <INTRS.II>.night  HAB~<TRNS.II><AGEN>.see two.times CONJ.SS NEG <TRNS.IV><PSS>.blessing
"A silent apostate sees twice and isn't rewarded"

First to explain the proverb. I took the original one to mean that you should focus on one thing at a time lest you complete neither. Well, I admit I twisted that a bit to fit better with Kikxotian society. The essential cultural (and linguistic) details are as follows:

Kikxotian religion is centered on worship of Kikxo. Kīkxo [kiːkʃɔ] is the great protector and anyone who serves him will be protected from evil. The opposite of Kikxo is Khluzā [k'lʊtʃaː] "The Envious One" (or one of his many other names). Khluza is jealous of Kikxo and wants to destroy everything Kikxo has out of spite. Kikxo is more than powerful enough to protect his followers but this is costly and he won't protect someone who doesn't appreciate it. Khluza doesn't protect his followers (why would they need protection? He is the source of evil) but he does "reward" them in this life with the things he has power over. He gives no protection in the afterlife though.

There are many types of followers of Khluza. The word used here literally means apostate, as in someone who rejects Kikxo. Apostates are a type of ōmūkaqzō [oːmuːxǝq'tʃoː], "demon person, follower of Khluza" (the other two main groups there are heretics (ōqūúab [oːq'uːwǝb]), and blasphemers (ōbūvaj [oːvuːʕǝdz])). Ayyōp literally means "to move silently" and has specific reference to night and shadows, which are seen as evil times. In this phrasing, it basically means crypto-, so the final phrase could be translated as "crypto-apostate". While a crypto-apostate's heart might be in the right place (well wrong place but you get what I mean), just silently rejecting Kikxo is not sufficient for Khluza to reward you, since you aren't really undermining anything with your action. It's like slacktivism, but worse.

Ophgīí is a transitive verb. There's no object but it is implied. Since ōmūfakh refers to a human, the phrase should use pihma [pɪʔmǝ]. Using the word which refers to the things an animal sees is a derisive remark, though fitting with the rest of the proverb. The lack of at the end of ōmūfakh makes this even more degrading. Here, the phrasing can basically be interpreted as "someone who is looking in two directions".

Putting all these together, the phrasing basically means "someone who half asses two things gets nothing", which I think gets close enough to the original proverb. Though you could also interpret it as "If you're gonna be bad, be evil" which is not a very wholesome proverb at all.

Now for the questions. Animals are specifically the domain of two (of the four) "clans" in the broader food-producer caste. The herders (wyīúu [ɹiːwʊ] are in charge of taking care of domestic animals, while the hunters (rxību [rǝʃiːvʊ]) deal with wild animals and animal processing. Small scale farmers often have animals like oxen (cōmum [tsoːmʊm]) and horses (kōduh [koːðʊʔ]) that they keep themselves. It's not uncommon to keep ferrets (sōtum [soːθʊm]) or cats (zhōluq [tʃ'oːlʊq']) as mousers. Dogs (rōxub [roːʃʊb]) are also fairly common in rural settings among all groups of people. Otherwise, people outside of those clans don't interact with animals much.

Some animals are quite respected in the culture. Of special note are the bear (gōduk [goːðʊk]), sheep (kōkub [koːxʊb]), and honeybee (dōsur [doːsʊr]), each of which gives their name to one of the broader castes (which can best be thought of as "nobles", "peasants" and "tradesmen" respectively). Some animals like yōyup [hoːhʊp] (flying night creatures, eg. owls and bats) and snakes (wōluf [ɹoːlʊħ]) are feared. In the foothills, seeing a kherū [k'erʷ] ("a kind of eagle", this is a loan from a local language and is given in the mountain dialect) is considered good luck. Similarly, islanders are fond of parakeets (raíīd [rǝjiːd], also a loan word given in dialect). In general, Kikxotians like seeing birds (kōzur [koːtʃʊr]) and they don't consider owls to be birds.

As for nature, the Kikxotians aren't very environmentally conscious. Forests are respected but the average person doesn't enter them, rivers are polluted and marshes are deliberately filled in (marshes are considered bad in their religion). In general, people stick to villages, towns and cultivated fields unless their clan dictates otherwise. The hunter clan is actually considered very suspicious because their duty requires that they spend lots of time in the wilderness. That being said, because of their dislike of the wilderness, Kikxotians are very good and transforming land into something more palatable. This has the double effect (seen as good in their eyes) of disrupting "traditional" structures in their colonies (ātufr [aːθʊħǝr]), making it easier to bring Kikxo's word to new, captive audiences.


While I'm here, I should probably mention the animal name patterns. Basically, sometime between ~2500 years ago (when TbKt broke off from its closest relatives to the west) and ~1500 years ago (when its first literary tradition started), there was a massive shift in animal words. Many animal words, including some of the most common ones, were replaced with epithets. They were attached to various verbs and could basically be translated as "the X one". For example, rōxub is clearly related to rxību, so whatever the old word for dog was, it got replaced with "the hunting one".

Other animal words kept their general form but were forced into the new pattern (which was probably a bit more recent and in line with other analogical levelings that occurred in the early literary era). Kōduh appears to be one of these nouns. Loanwords for animals followed this pattern as well, being turned more or less into a root and then converted to fit. Shōbum [s'oːvʊm] "fish" seems to be a case of this. As inland pastoralists, either didn't have a strong connection to their original word for fish or they loaned one from the original inhabitants of their land to refer to a certain type of fish that then generalized to all fish.

After (or probably during) all this analogy, new verbs started to be coined off the animals. As such, many of the verbs in this class are quite specific and do provide reminders to all Kikxotians about animals, even if they don't interact with them much.



Saturday, May 16, 2020

Kikxotian Castes

So I've been sitting on this one for a while (my notes for this are almost 5 years old at this point!) but I've also been reading a lot about worldwide caste systems which inspired me to finish this.

One notable part of Kikxotian culture is its quite complex caste system, or tkuba. There are 14 different exogamous clans (nphuva) which roughly fall into three mostly endogamous castes/levels, called kkubī (literally constellation). The Tkuba is very closely linked with Kikxotian religion, including its mysteries, and has a complex symbolism, marriage rites, taboos, and duties attached to it. Each clan is more linked to a broad set of occupations, though individual occupations are usually inherited as well.  Table 1 acts as an English language introduction to some of these symbols.

Table 1: The Tkuba
Body Male Female Kkubī
Soul Rulers Priests Bear
Head Warriors Scribes
Stomach Hunters Herders Sheep
Groin Fishers Farmers
Arms Gatherers Craftsmen Bee
Feet Processors Builders
Heart Merchants Artists

As can be seen, each kkubī is associated with a certain animal, while two nphuva each are associated with a given body part. Each nphuva is also associated with a gender, which is mostly relevant in marriage taboos. As such, it makes sense to talk about those next.

People may only marry within their kkubīthough this taboo is much weaker in the lower two strata. Furthermore, you may not marry someone from your father's clan or your mother's clan. Finally, you must marry someone from a clan of the opposite gender class. Thus in practice, someone born in the highest caste will know from birth their future spouse's clan. This also means that political marriages are rarely happen in the most direct way, with one prince (mīhlo) marrying his children to the children of another mīhlo to form an alliance.The gender class marriage taboo is by far the strongest of all the marriage taboos and intimately tied with Kikxotian mystery rites. While that really is for another post, the short explanation is that each clan is associated with a house god (shīyto) and marriage is seen as a symbolic linkage of protection between those shīyto. Thus, since someone is already under the protection of their parents' respective shīyto, it makes no sense to marry into the protection you already have and the shīyto only link with a shīyto of the opposite sex.

On an outside anthropological note, exogamy at the clan level is actually might preclude this from being a true caste system. On a broader note though, the religion itself is endogamous and all converts are adopted into a nphuva.  

Adoption is probably the next major topic to cover. Inclusion in a nphuva is usually passed down patrilinerally. The main exception is if the father is adopted into his wife's nphuva for the purpose of following his father-in-law's occupation (though just as a wife stays with her clan formally, he stays in his). Then all their children are part of the mother's nphuva. The next exception is that a matrilineal grandfather can adopt one or more of his grandsons as an inheritor of his occupation, even if the father has his own occupation within his birth nphuva. Then this specific son is in his mother's clan, different from his siblings. 

The other adoptions are generally political or for convenience. Sometimes someone powerful is born in a clan lower than their standing. Other times, they are good at an occupation outside their clan. Sometimes there's just too many or too few people in an occupation and some movement is needed to maintain balance in society. Unlike adoptions related to marriage, the recipient actually changes nphuva. For people who haven't undergone the rituals of the Lōbopāb Kīkxot this doesn't mean to much (mostly a change in customs and dress), but those who have done the rituals will need to redo them. Marriage generally precludes any sort of adoption like this.


In all cases, adoption is a formal process approved by a Wyīúuzō. This is an occupation in the priest clan with the formal rights to prophecy directed toward individuals, including being able to see which shīyto "truly" protects them. This post is not about religion, so I won't go more into the roles of the wyīúuzō at this time.

As for the other symbols, these have to do with ritual tattoos, decorations/imagery in art, and other things of that nature. They do not have a large role in day to day life. Next I will give a brief overview of each clan. This will cover some of the occupations in each clan. Another important note is that while occupations are generally hereditary and people need to do an occupation within their clan, there is no taboo to changing to another occupation within your clan. The taboo (fixed by adoption) only happens when doing jobs outside of the clan.

The Phruyā (rulers) clan contains occupations relating to government. All princes come from this clan, as do the high kings. "Lower" families are in charge or regions, serve as mayors, or in particularly poor cases are simply landowners with no real claim to a territory. As such, members of this clan are found throughout Kikxotian territory. Kikxotian governance is complex and ever changing and not the topic of this article. It suffices to say that a mayor with a sufficient warlord backing could become the high king, as unlikely as it is, and he would be seen as legitimate.

The Srīsu (warriors) clan's main official duty is watching the āwung hākanat in the wōboth. Every settlement, from the smallest village to the great cities, has one of these towers with a signal fire inside. From these towers, the warriors defend their locality and keep peace. Now, all military officers come from this clan, but when there are not enough warriors, soldiers and guards are often drawn. Thus, a small town may only have one or two warrior families. A village without a resident warrior might either try to attract one with money or more likely have their fire kept by a resident given authority to do so from the closest mayor and warrior. Many warriors become mercenaries, especially when conflict between princes is low. Due to their higher status and education, they are often the leaders of mercenary bands, rather than just foot soldiers.

On the female side of the Bear Kkubī, there are the Gīsto (clergy/priests). There are three occupations within this clan. The first are the Bqīyu, or preachers. They lead úōhod, interpret scripture and generally act as community leaders to their followers. The next ones are the aforementioned wyīúuzō. Finally there are Ltīxu, who perform sacrifices and rituals. Unlike the other two clerical occupations, there is almost no lateral entry into the priesthood. You must be born into it (or be adopted in). Similarly, almost no priest leaves to another occupation because there's generally always very high demand for them. This can be very frustrating to the much more numerous bqīyu who often become missionaries or travel long distances trying to make a living.

Then there are the Olūvat (scribes). The primary occupation of the scribes is to be literally that, so many are located in large cities and trading hubs. Some are researchers or follow other scholarly pursuits. While the scribes are known for their literacy, many people in the Bear Kkubī can read and write. It is also common among merchants, some craftsmen, and some artists.

Next comes the Sheep Kkubī. These clans all deal with food production and are often more geographically concentrated than the Bear kkubī, because they are not essential state administration. The first one is the Rxību (hunters). This clan is not only in charge of bringing in meat from the wild, but also act as butchers (including for the shepherds), curers and tanners. In short, they are the ones who turn animals into materials that can be used by others. Many hunters have a close relationship with warriors and often serve (part time or full time) as guards, soldiers, and mercenaries, though hunters are often jealous of the higher status that warriors have. The hunters are often seen as the most mysterious and aloof clan by the others, due to the long time they spend in the wilderness, emphasis on combat. Non-butcher hunters are rare in cities and often subject to abuse and suspicion. In turn, many crime rings are allegedly run by hunters. Slavers also often come from the hunter clan.

Compared to the hunters, the Shbīmu (fishers) are a relatively beloved clan. Beyond extracting resources from the sea and rivers, fishers are sailors, delivering goods down the river and across the bay. As sailors, many are also pirates, especially in times of instability. Pearl divers and trepangers form one of the more closed off occupations, mostly due to geographic and skill constraints.

The Wyīúu (herders), not to be confused with the clerical occupation, take care of animals. The richer ones own their own herds. Others care for the herds of others. There isn't much more to say about them, really. While they do not do butchering, they do milk animals and create milk products. They have close connections with almost all clans that might have stables, though in more individual circumstances, people of all clans take care of their own kōduh. Farmers also plow fields with their own cōmum though large landholders with many oxen will probably hire a herder to take care of them.

The last of the Sheep Kkubī is the Ānīvs (farmers). These are the people who grown plants from the ground. Pretty straightforward. Some of them own their own land, others don't. Some tend the gardens of merchant and princes in cities (though that's more likely to be a slave). Some have enough land to hire other farmers or slaves to work for them. Outside of growing food, the farmer clan is responsible for some processing and storage. However some other types of processing are more commonly done by other groups.

The Bee Kkubī represents a diverse set of clans. The first is the Cxīlu (gatherers). This encompasses anyone who gathers materials from the natural environment for processing. The biggest group of these are the miners and lumberjacks. In some cases, these people act more as foremen of operations, leading teams of slaves and poorer gatherers.

The next are the Shtuzā (processors, literally those who make things become something else). This clan contains all the specialists that turn resources into something more usable, but do not make final products. The foremost occupation in here are the millers, who process plants into more edible things. Brickmakers are here as well. In fact many odds and ends type occupations are in this clan, especially when they aren't focused on a final product.

The last male clan is the Rqīnu (merchants). This clan encompasses all middlemen and people in charge of bringing goods and services from one place to another. Many are travelers (and the role of caravans in Kikxotian society merits its own post) with close connections to the warriors, fishers and hunter clans.  It is important to emphasize that there is no dishonor when people from other clans engage in trade. However, the only clan allowed to do it full time without dishonor are the merchants and they are the only people who routinely travel great distances for trade. Another occupation within this clan are the moneylenders. Finally, while tax collecting can be done by anyone, this appointment is dominated by hereditary tax collecting families from the merchant clan. While traditionally not a highly respected clan, they are wealthy and strong in contemporary Kikxotian society, which is heavily reliant on trade. One major class struggle is the inability for rich merchants to marry their children into the Bear Kkubī, though sacrifices and gifts sometimes sway wyīúuzō into "seeing" and approving merchants' children's adoption into those clans.

The first female bee clan are the Qsurā (craftsmen, lit. shapers). This encompasses all occupations related to creating finished goods. Some of the notable jobs are smiths, leatherworkers, potters, weavers, bakers, and brewers. This does note include joiners/carpenters/coopers or masons. A note about food production: there is no shame in cooking for oneself or family. This includes baking and brewing. Many, if not most cooks in rich households are slaves. The cooks occupations are fairly small and specialists. But they do fall in here.

The next female bee clan is the Hnību (builders). Other than the day laborers that physically erect buildings (mixed in with slaves, of course), this includes architects, carpenters, shipwrights, (civil) engineers, and masons. Basically if the craftsmen make small items, the builders make big items (well buildings and vehicles).

The final clan is the Simat (dancers, covers all artist types). These are the traveling minstrels, actors, dancers, griots, poets and other such artistic occupations that aren't tied to making something physical. They're one of the most looked down upon clans. Almost all simat are nomads and their well known for their taboo against sea products. Despite the general mistrust people have in them, they often serve as spies (or at least sources of information) for princes. In fact, restricting the movement of a simatzō is considered highly taboo, even in times of war. Custom provides that they must always be allowed to move, because stopping their "dance" is an attack on their duty.

I'll finish off by discussing some harder to place occupations, followed by some patterns and symbols. I will then end with a brief discussion on the societal implications of the caste system. Medical occupations are spread out through different clans, depending on the role. 'Spiritual' doctors come from the clergy, while physician-surgeons are scribes. Finally, apothecaries come from the craftsmen clan. Midwives can belong to any clan. Sorcerers (qlusāzō) do not below to any clan, as it is a taboo occupation. This is true of other taboo occupations as well.

As can be seen, male clans are more associated with destruction, with gathering and with movement, while female clans are more about creation. Male is seen as external and female internal. While really the discussion for another article, this aligns with traditional gender roles in kikxotian society. Other symbolism can be seen with the animals. Bears are a symbol of power and the verb agdōk "to be noble" comes from the same root as gōduk "bear". Sheep, as bearers of wool, meat and milk, are a completely understandable symbol for the clans that are dedicated to food production. Finally, bees are seen as productive workers who work together to create good things. This fits well with the different non-food producers and creators, who are constantly working together to different things. As such, while the scale of each constellation is different, they are all very respectable.

Finally, a bit of sociology. The caste system both causes and solves problems for the Kikxotians. The fact is that many broader tasks require input from different clans working together in close quarters. Even a small village requires at least farmers, leaders, and warriors together, plus probably some extractors and craftsmen, maybe some priests, in comes a merchant, so on and so forth. Thus, there even though there are strong status differences between, the caste system actually makes people earn some respect from their peers (hopefully). At the same time though, it does hold those same hierarchies in place. Exogamy and a way to change castes also helps with keeping peace in society. In the first case, it furthers the bonds across clans rather than creating competition. The other case allows for fluidity to face demographic problems and (to some degree) gaps between wealth and status. Speaking of demographics, is suffices to say that the bear clans are much smaller than the others and that this is some variation in size between the different clans. They also are definitely not equally spread out geographically. A final thing to mention is that the omnipresence of kikxotian religion helps legitimize the caste system, while the system helps the religion remain omnipresent in their society. It is hard to say which came first and the most likely answer in that they coevolved. Even more liberal sects do not touch the caste system very much.



Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Direct-Inverse constructions in Towwu pũ saho

Towwu pũ saho has a fairly interesting syntactical system. It acts much like a direct inverse language, though the information is carried in a particle between the nouns, rather than on the verb.

To understand how this works, you first need to understand its word order. Tps is an SOV language, but there is little necessary relation between subject and agent. Rather, the subject position is ordinarily held by the topic (when the topic is the agent or patient), which in turn is generally the most definite (technically the difference is referring vs non-referring expressions but it's been a while since I've worked on this so I need to brush up on the difference again) or proximate argument. Then there's an animacy hierarchy which determines word order absent an unusual topic or differences in definiteness. The most animate argument comes first followed by less animate arguments. The hierarchy is as follows:


                                         Animacy table from most to least animate
1st person
2nd person
3rd person
4th person
Human
Animal/
Moving Force
Inanimate
(natural objects)
Inanimate
(Artificial)
Abstract


After the word order is properly established, one of eight particles is chosen. This clarifies the semantic roles and the definiteness (since there are no articles) of the main arguments. A direct particle is used when the more animate (regardless of position in the sentence) argument is the agent and the inverse when the less animate argument is the agent. When the arguments have the same animacy, if the subject position is held by the agent, use the direct and use the inverse when the patient holds that position. The table below shows the role particles.

Grammatical relations in transitive sentences
“Voice”
Direct
Inverse
Agent
Referential
Non-referring
Referential
Non-referring
Patient
Referring
go
i
lu
Non-referring
e
bo
sa
nẽ

This is probably best shown with a series of examples. The following words are ebe "man", ho'o "hat", caupe "to put on, to wear", tẽmẽ "to see", ũcẽ "woman", uxxale "snake".

Ebe go ho'o caupe "The man puts on the hat". Here both arguments are definite, so the most animate goes first and a direct marker is used.

Ebe e ho'o caupe "The man puts on a hat". Still very straightforward

Ho'o mã ebe caupe "A man puts on the hat". Since the less animate argument is definite while the more animate argument is not, the less animate argument is moved to the beginning of the sentence. It still uses a direct marker though because the agent is the more animate argument. A more natural translation might be "The hat was put on by a man". If you want to make "a man" the topic (for some reason) you could say Rĩ ebe mã ho'o caupe or just Ebe mã ho'o caupe.

Ebe bo ho'o caupe "A man wears a hat". Not a very illuminating sentence, but it works. Since they have the same definiteness regular animacy rules apply.

Now for the inverses.

Ebe i uxxale tẽmẽ "The snake sees the man". Same definiteness, so the more animate argument comes first. But the agent is the less animate argument, so we use the inverse.

Ebe lu uxxale tẽmẽ "A snake sees the man". A very strange sentence that would be more likely translated "The man is seen by the snake". However, this does fall the normal rules for animacy

Uxxale sa ebe tẽmẽ "The snake sees a man". Note that while the agent is in the subject spot, you still use the inverse.

Ebe nẽ uxxale tẽmẽ "A snake sees a man". Pretty straightforward.

When the arguments are on the same level:

Ebe go ũcẽ tẽmẽ "The man sees the woman"

Ũcẽ go ebe tẽmẽ "The woman sees the man"

Ebe i ũcẽ tẽmẽ "The man is seen by the woman" or "The man, the woman sees him"

Ũcẽ i ebe tẽmẽ "The woman is seen by the man" or "The woman, the man sees her"

These are all kind of weird examples, many seeming quite unnatural. So now I'll give one example for each (not necessarily related to each other) with TAM markers and other particles to make the sentences work better.

Hã go ba ngĩ tẽmẽ "I just saw him"

Igea mã uxxale ku ngõnã "A snake ate the egg"

Ba e igea ijji ĩxũ "She might like eggs"

Uxxale bo igea ngĩ ngõnã "Snakes like eggs"

Hã i onã fu fũxã tẽmẽ? "Have you ever seen me before?"

Sei ebe lu uxxale ãxõũ ngõnã ella "(As you know, I wish) a snake would eat that man over there" This sentence has a lot going on. Sei is a distal, visible determiner. Ãxõũ marks the sentence as a desire of the speaker (even though the speaker is never mentioned in the sentence). Ella at the end of a sentence marks the entire sentence as something that should be obvious to the discourse participants.

Hau, uxxale sa be'oi uwẽ vasi ngõnã "Agreed, the snake could be a man-killer" lit. "Agreed, the snake could frequently eat people"

Ebe nẽ uxxale ijji ã ngõnã "A snake could be eating a man"



Saturday, April 28, 2018

Antipassives, Ergative Verbs and Nominalizations in Kélojùù

I have not worked on this language for a long time. And then a little while ago someone was asking about someone else's conlang, specifically if the agent nominialization could fit on unaccusative verbs (something like that). And that got me thinking. Then a few days later I was looking up stuff on antipassives and learned that while they normally aren't in nom-acc languages, it does happen in some Nilo-Saharan langs. So I thought about how to shove it in mine.

Some base things to keep in mind. First of all, most transitive verbs in Klj are ambitransitive, but they are ergative verbs, even though in English they are often accusative verbs. Why? Such is life. Anyway, this means that the subject of an intransitive verb (well, detransitivized) is treated as the patient rather than the agent. So while in English we can do "He cooks food" -> "He cooks" the same process (simple deletion of the object) in Klj means "He is cooked/He cooks (like a cake does)". The next thing to consider is that Klj has two basic denominalization processes. One is the action noun (much like a gerund or infinitive in English) and the other is concrete noun. The concrete noun can work like an agentive/patientive/result, basically some sort of more concrete object or idea.  The interpretation of these is based on the role of the subject of the original verb, which is important because generally only intransitive verbs can take these in Klj. And so comes the need for the antipassive

The antipassive (-nú) demotes the object of a transitive verb, while keeping the old agent in subject position. Consider the verb wííza "to break (something)". You might have a sentence like mọ́llééṃò zawíízajù "I broke the pot". To say "The pot broke" you could say  mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízajù or use the passive/reflexive/general detransivizer -ḍà giving us mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízadàjù "The pot broke/was broken". "I broke (things)" is zawíízánújù and "someone who breaks things" is wíízánúsaw but "a broken thing" is just wíízasaw with no passive required.
Other than nominalizations, when is the intransitive important? For one, the intransitive form of ambitransitive verbs in the present tense often has a habitual meaning. So (to use a slightly silly example), zawííza means "I break (apart) a lot". The antipassive allows us to keep the subject as an agent in these habitual clauses, zawíízánú "I be breaking (things)". Habitual intransitives can take a genitive complement to reintroduce the former direct object as in mọ̀òlleek zawíízánú "I be breaking pots" (had the singular been used there, it would mean "I keep breaking this same pot")
So what's even the point of having a passive (as seen above) if all the verbs are ergative? Well, a large part of it is to clarify that that action was intentionally done/caused by the agent. In the ergative (technically unergative?) form, no intention is drawn to the fact that it was caused or done. This implies either an accident or something causeless. Pots can just randomly break, yannow? A passive with a reintroduced agent complement (with the dative postposition) means that agent intentionally did the verb. Even one without a reintroduced agent could be taken as a volative act, though because it could also be reflexive or something else, usually an indefinite pronoun is brought in regardless. The next question is, "if the act was volative and the agent known, why use the passive and not the active voice?" Further research is needed, the likely answer has something to do with bringing attention to the patient/result of the action. So the difference between mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízajù, mọ̀llééṃò ìwíízadàjù, and mọ̀llééṃò zlàkọ ìwíízadàjù is something like "The pot (has) broke(n)/Somebody (accidentally) broke the pot" "The pot was broken (by someone)" and "The pot was broken by me!" respectively/

The antipassive works in the opposite (ish) way. An antipassive with a reintroduced patient (also in the dative) implies that the agent did the verb on accident. So while mọ́llééṃò zawíízajù means "I have broken the pot", mọ́llééṃò kọ zawíízánújù means "I accidentally broke the pot".

Pragmatically, this means that people, when accused of doing something, often reply with an antipassive. Mọ́llééṃò ìwíízajù! "You broke the pot!"(Note that this is technically ambiguous and could mean "The pot broke!") nẹẹh, zawíízánújù "It was an accident!" (lit. "no, I broke (something)"). This is a way of admitting fault while trying to absolve yourself of full guilt.

Obviously, there's still a lot to work out here/discover. But it is a work in progress and more progress I've gotten on this language than I have all year. Plus, it was like actual work combing morphology, syntax, and pragmatics, which feels good.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

Language Profile: Kélojùù

Name: Kélojùù
Alternative Names: The Language of Kelo, Nilo-Saharan lang :p
Family: "Southern Family", highly diverse and spoken to the southeast of Ākoṇṭemāṟuttōm
Location: In the highlands of the southern continent, quite far from Kikxotian influence
History: The kélomèlo have been in their valley for as long as people can remember and are considered the indigenous inhabitants. I really don't have much else about them. They like to farm
Writing System: Not a written language, they use Amt for writing purposes
Typological information:
  • Word order: SOV
  • Alignment: Nominative-Accusative
  • Morphological: Somewhere between agglutinating and fusional
Notable Features:
  • Tones!
  • Lots of non-concatenative stuff
  • Hearty derivational morphology
  • Construct State
  • Productive semantic gender alternations
  • Singulative system
  • Some stuff with ergative verbs and antipassives
Some morphological markings:
  • Verbs
    • Subject
    • Tense/Aspect
    • "Extensions"
      • Mood
      • Polarity
      • "Voices"
        • Passive
        • Reflexsive
        • Causative
        • Antipassive
        • Reciprocal
  • Nouns
    • Case
      • Nominative
      • Oblique
      • Genitive
    • Number
      •  Singular/singulative
      • Plural/pluralitive/collective
    • State 
      • Absolute
      • Construct
    • Gender
      • Male
      • Female

Origins: July 2017.
History: I wanted to do another 2 hour challenge, so I looked at the old "african" languages one and chose to do Nilo-Saharan. Of course, that's not really a valid grouping (probably) and it gives a whole lot to work with, but here we are! Here's the original post
Status: In-development. I haven't touched it in a while, but I've gotten back to it after learning more about antipassives. Definitely planning some cool things with those and agentive nouns
What I'm doing with it and why: I'm doing a lots of things with like tones and
Other Notes:

4/26/18- Probably enough for now. One day I'll get a CALS page and other stuff on it (as I always say and then never do)

Friday, April 20, 2018

Scoped Derivation in Knǝnʔtəəʔ

Someone on reddit asked about having multiple infixes in a single word. I answered and then included some stuff on Knǝnʔtəəʔ, as copied below.

I have a conlang that works similarly. It has many infixes and they work sort of on a scope basis. Basically derivational affixes applied in order where each newly added one changes meaning based on the last one, and then if a verb, the aspectual inflection is added last. For example, take the root klbaa "to be clean". The prefix s- marks a causitive so sklbaa "to clean something". The infix <w> marks a location of a verb. kwlbaa "a clean place, a medicine man's house", skwlbaa "To turn into a clean place, to sanctify" swklbaa "a place of cleaning, a river bank". Now we have the prefix+infix combination m-ä- to derive agent nouns giving us mkälbaa "elder, a person who is clean". But there is also msäklbaa "launderer" and msäkwlbaa "one who sanctifies". So on and so forth. Point is that all the different things stack on top of each other, and that is how the order is determined.

Adding in the aspectual infixes (in this case the cessative as marked by infixation of the final vowel and consonant), we get things like kaalbaa "to stop being clean" vs saaklbaa "to stop cleaning" vs saakwlbaa "to stop sanctifying". With reflexive derivation based on some reduplication and infixation we get məmkälbaa "to be an elder", kǝkwlbaa "to be a clean place" səswklbaa "to be a river bank used for washing". Honestly, this root is a bad example since it doesn't have a final consonant. Anyway, with aspects we end up getting maamkälbaa "to stop being an elder", kaakwlbaa "to stop being a clean place", and saaswklbaa "to stop being a place for washing". Lots of stacked infixes, all based on how changes of the order matter.
Let's discuss this a little more. Knǝnʔtəəʔ is super fun since it straddles that fine line between Mandarin and Inuktitut, by which I mean it has minimal inflectional morphology but quite rich derivational morphology. This post really only went into a couple things. For example, you can have srkwlbaa "incense, an instrument used to sanctify something". Or swrkwlbaa "an incense holder, a pantry". Now the thing is, a lot of these would never be used outside of word games like this; instead compounds or other constructions would be used. But it is technically limitless, even if srswrkwlbaa "a tool used to make pantries" is pretty absurd (let alone swrswrkwlbaa "a place that holds the tools used to make pantries").

You might notice that the words are quite contextual. For example, you probably wouldn't guess that "one who is clean" means "elder". This points to the fact that while these derivations are productive, people seem to learn many of them as distinct lexical units than as derivations in and of themselves. Another example would be hwyrëëy "a paved (well stone paved) road, a place of catching frogs". Once again, the main meaning isn't obvious from the initial construction. It actually comes from the fact that roads (as built by the Kikxotians as they colonized the place) would often cut through areas that had lots of frogs. Since the roads were flat and not grassy/swampy, it became easier to catch frogs on the road than off. Of course, hwyrëëy can also mean "ambush point", since in anti-colonial conflicts, people would often attack convoys on the road. If asked why someone was hanging around a road, the excuse would be "catching frogs" to the point where hyrëëy came to mean "to ambush someone" and mhäyrëëy "rebel". And this of course led to the slur hrëëy "frog" for "Kikxotian soldier". All good clean fun.

And now for some sentences since those are fun. I'll supply the translations in another post!

Sɨ̈ mthäwäk thɛ̃ɛ̃n pcããʔ nɔk hwyrëëy löw cəclör thɛ̃ɛ̃n?
TOP AGENT<AGENT>-be.irritating 3P ride.wagon on <LOC><CAPT>frog 2S PLUR~see 3P?


Jɛt klbaa srjob kbə mã or Sɨ̈ srjob kbə mã jɛt so klbaa
NEG clean <INST>drink GEN 1S or TOP <INST>drink GEN 1S NEG 3S clean

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

More dialects and some phrases

Just some things that I have been thinking about the last few days, regarding TjKt mostly. First is that there is a dialect common along the coastal regions best known for the sound change [+syllabic, +short]->Ø/C_$, that is short vowels deleting in open syllables (of roots, ie etymologically). This preserves words like jāmah "faith" but not jimha "to believe in something" which instead would become jem(h) (I threw in a /ɪ/->[ɛ] as well :p). Of course, this leads to problems with words like jmohi "faithful", so I'll need to put in some more rules so that not only consonants are left. Maybe only word final deletion in that case, which would then result in a closed syllable. Another alternative would be lengthening word final short vowels if the previous vowel is also short. In this cases the options would end up being jnoh or jn(h)ī respectively. I'm kind of preferring the second option right now, it leads to some interesting stuff. I also need to figure out how to avoid clusters of intital CCC coming from CCVC roots, which leads to option 3, metathesis to CVCC. Then we'd have jom(h) as the word coming out. Yeah, not sure what to do yet. I think option 3 works the best overall. Hmm, maybe some sort of chain thing. Changes start from the right side of the word, which can change a open to a closed syllable and save the word. This can end up looking with case 1. When the final vowel is already long and the form is (V)CCVCV: then metathesis occurs to CVCCV: (option three). So the word jmohi turns to jnoh but jmuhā "thing which causes belief" becomes jmahā->jam(h)ā (/u/->[ə] in analogy with the short i sound change). Ujmahū "faithfully" becomes jamhū  because the metathesis eliminates the closedness of the first syllable.

Going down the whole 4th class (ignore the colors, html is hard), I think we get the following forms (bolded if different from standard): 
CāCaC CCoC ūCeCC CeCC CōCāC aCCōC CCīC CaCCū CūCaC CaCCā īCCōC CaCCū

3rd:

CōCoC īCCaC CaCCī CāCC ūCCāC CīCūC āCCāC CaCC CīCoC āCīCC CCūCō CCīoC

2nd:

āCuCC CīCeC CaCC aCCōC ūCCoC CCaC oCCīC CCīC aCCīCā CaCC CōCaC CaCCī CīCoC

1st:

CīCC CūCC eCCūC CCīC CCōC CāCaC CeCC ūCeCC CeCCī CCaC CīCaC

Somehow there are no duplicates within a class. Praise Kīkx!

I might throw in some mergers as well, like the alveolar affricates merging with the palatal-alveolar ones. I do think this one will preserve the pharyngeals, and I think the ejectives might weaken to pharyngealized consonants, with a loss of the non-stop ejectives. It also doesn't spirantize intervocalic stops, but does contrast consonant length intervocalically.

So let's compare some sentences now (though I haven't worked on semantic/grammatical/pragmatic stuff, so it's basically only applying sound changes at this point).

"People pray to Kikxo so that they are blessed"
Úīkmo nonsīnī Kīkxo mābíi gagaxātap-gātāp[wi:kŋɔ nɔnsi:ni: xi:kʃɔ ma:bjɪ ɣəɣəʃa:θəpga:θa:p]
Úīk nonsīnī Kīkx mābī gagaxātap-gātāp[wik nɔnsi:n:i ki:kʃ ma:bi: gəg̵əʃa:təpga:ta:p]

Pretty similar with that one

"The fishermen are eating dog in the lake"
Shbīmuzō fatiúja rōxub qal gfutī[sʼbi:mʊtʃo: ħəθɪwdzə ro:ʃʊb qʼəl għʊθi:]
Spīnzō fateúj rōxab qal gafthī[spi:ntʃo: ħətewdʒ ro:ʃəb ɢǝl gəħtˤi:]

That one is pretty similar too. Let's try two more.

"I have seen stars in the desert and heard wind on the island"
Yān khopihma kōkob qal thuyī ūmpa khoniyka citham qal úlunī[ha:n kʼɔfɪʔmə xo:xɔb qʼəl tʼʊhi: ju:mpə kʼɔni:kə tsɪtʼəm qʼəl u:lʊni:]
Yān khpehm kōkob qal tahyī ūmp khnek ztham qal úalnī[ha:n qpɛʔm̩ ko:kɔb ɢəl təʔhi: ju:mp qnɛxk tʃˤtˤəm ɢəl wəlni:]

"Sentient beings talk and eat"
Tiújī ūtiúj ūmpa tiúja[tɪwdzi: ju:θɪwdz u:mpə θɪwdzə]

Teújī ūteúj ūmp teúj[tɛwdʒi: ju:tɛwdʒ u:mp tɛwdʒ]


Outside of dialects, I've been thinking about sayings and such. Euphemism and the like as well. One root I was thinking about is NSP "to travel (in a group)". Some important words from this root are nōsup "caravan" and ansōp "to travel (in a group); to go from one point to another for trade". Now the transitive stem onsīp isn't really used formally, at least without an applicative. Well, it makes sense that this could be used as a causative "to make a group of people travel". While this could mean like "to send off a caravan" but more normally/colloquially it means "to exile a group" or even "to ethnically cleanse/force a migration".  It doesn't have to necessarily be malevolent. For example a gafto "flood" could force people to evacuate, such as in the sentence lbupī onaxsīp gafto "The people evacuated the village because of the flood" (lit. "As for the village, a flood forced it away")

Another interesting use of NSP is nōsup-nōsōp "to give a caravan to someone" (since these types of verbs always have recipients for direct objects). This, when taken literally, is a little strange. However, in actual use it means "to invest in someone's business venture (usually by supplying capital)" since rich merchants would earn money by giving up-and-coming merchants the right to use their goods and caravan in exchange for a cut of the profits. This later extended to a general meaning of "to invest (in someone)". It then later also gained the meaning of "to give an inheritance to someone" since those same goods later became the basis of many a merchant's son's inheritance.

This construction in general is known for having a large number of idiomatic meanings. A classic is sīqro-sīqri "to give give a butt to someone". This has come to mean "to kiss up to someone, to show deference to someone" since within Kikxotian culture, to bend over like this would be a sign of making yourself vulnerable to someone (specifically for their gain...they aren't a very progressive culture).  pōjop-pōjōp "to give death" is another example, here meaning "to execute" as opposed to the more generic pījūp "to kill". There's āruyt-ārāyt "to give a tongue" or rather "to claim a bounty (from someone), stemming from the tradition of cutting off the tongue of a person or animal to show that you killed them.

Ācutr-ācātr "to give a choice" is a very interesting one. At face value, this is a good thing. However in actual use this means "to threaten". Kikxotians value choices and agency. Therefore, in sentencing and other such arrangements, the criminal would often be given a choice in their punishment. In many private arrangements, "choices" are given as well even if everyone knows that only a certain option will be decided. Plenty of corrupt individuals and criminals would preface (such as in a tax shakedown or protection scheme) their demands with "I'm giving you a choice" until this became a euphemism for "to threaten". For some people, some back euphemism stuff has even happened where the original ācutr "choice" has come to mean "threat".

A few others ones. Wsuzī-wsūzū "to give a marsh" is to give someone something that is utterly worthless in order to mock them. It's like a white elephant gift but without the prestige. Tōwow-tōwōw "to give ice" is to do something to someone that has only temporary benefits before fading away. For example, a really terrible doctor might be accused of "only giving people ice" instead of actually healing them. Nōvos-nōvōs "to give a plow" is to endebt or enslave someone. 

Point is, this is a very productive but also highly context based construction. Many of these simply have to be learned, especially in the dialects where the first part is dropped. Like in any language, the meanings can't simply be learned as a derivation of common root, but instead as component of the culture. How else would we know that rōxub-rōxōb is "to invite someone on a day outing" or wxurā-wxūrū is "to be a quisling". Let alone that naxōíox-nōíōx is "to take someone in for the night" (this one is almost exclusively used in the passive, the active has a meaning like "to give thanks to a host".  Neither would be guessable from the root which means "grass").

Just a lot of musings