An Etymological Dictionary of Matoric, Third Edition - Volume I COMPLETE (A-G)
On the world of Spherus Magna, many millennia have come and gone since the time known as BIONICLE. And in that time, the scholars of Spherus Magna have not been idle...
Under the auspices of the Annoxtus Academy of Science, a team of researchers, including linguists, historians, archaeologists, and agoripologists, has worked tirelessly to record, preserve, and analyze the ancient languages and linguistic varieties of the Mata System.
The Institute for Matoran Studies is proud to present the newest result of those labors: The full and complete Volume I of An Etymological Dictionary of Matoric, Third Edition, now covering the letters A through G, along with āSupplemental Entriesā for H-Z.
An Etymological Dictionary of Matoric, Third Edition - Volume I: A-G [with Supplemental Entries H-Z] (PDF)
The previously published version of Volume I covered the letters A and B only, amounting to about 90 entries, with 36 root-word entries. In contrast, the Complete Volume I is substantially expanded, containing about 274 entries for the letters A-G, along with an additional ~407 Supplemental Entries, and ~169 root-word entries.
The Supplemental Entries contain words that are referenced in the etymologies of the primary entries for A-G, allowing the reader to cross-reference almost any word referenced in the dictionary. The Supplemental Entries also contain many words not referenced in the primary entries, but whose etymologies have been finalized by the IMS research group, providing a snapshot of the development of future dictionary volumes.Ā This includes nearly all words and grammatical markers listed or referenced in other educational materials, making the Complete Volume I the most comprehensive reference document for the lexicon of the Matoran Language.
[Link to Previous Version (Volume I: A-B)]
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The Matoran Language (Matoric) is a constructed language (āconlangā) set within the universe and lore of BIONICLE (a LEGO property). It is the language of the biomechanical species called Matoran, and it is also used as a lingua franca amongst many of the biomechanical inhabitants of the artificially-constructed Matoran Universe.
If you would like to learn more about Matoric, further documentation can be found in this post: The Matoran Language [2021].
The Matoran Language Resources page of this blog also contains a wealth of additional content and archival material.
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It's 810NICLEDay! Here's my first of two artworks centred around the 2006 BIONICLE storyline, made for GANG: An Inika fanzine - you can grab a copy here!
100,000 years ago, two Great Beings deliver the Kanohi Ignika to its resting place, awaiting a day its vast power may be needed...
happy bionicle day!! I wanted to share some screenshots and info about a small fangame I'm working on. it's a pretty low-scope RPG, nothing close to the scale of something like Masks of Power or even your typical RPG maker game.
in order to ensure i'm actually able to finish the game in a reasonable timeframe, i've kept the visual and technical scope low. besides the character portraits and background images, the game is largely just UI and text. for the artstyle, i've decided to go with something i think is both practical and nostalgic, emulating the low-res low-color palette prerendered 3D artstyle of classic GBA bionicle games like quest for the toa, maze of shadows, and bionicle heroes GBA.
the background images are currently just stolen from maze of shadows but i'm hoping to replace them eventually with my own prerendered BGs. i'm not a blender expert or anything but i think i have enough environment modeling experience to pull it off, and since the resolution is so low they don't need to be super detailed anyways.
there are currently 4 playable species: Toa, Matoran, Vortixx, and Skakdi, and i'm hoping to add at least Turaga as well, and maybe some more obscure species in the future like Steltians. the player will be able to create a party of 6 choosing any of these species. or they can just pick a classic toa team of the 6 primary elements (boring but understandable)
there currently aren't any plans to have much of a story, it's just a simple dungeon crawler. but i'm hoping that once i've gotten this game to a point where i'm happy with all of the systems, I can start expanding it into a larger RPG where you explore around the MU visiting settlements and dungeons, which would have an overarching plot. but that's for the future. right now i just want to get this simple dungeon crawling version in a playable state.
i know it probably will be fairly niche, as most people want a huge sprawling bionicle RPG like MoP. but I hope at least a few people will be interested in trying it out when it's ready for release. i'm not sure when that will be, but i'm hoping to at least have some playable builds by the end of the year.
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The tone sounded from the Coliseum, signaling on-duty Matoran across the city to retire.
Tegte finished sweeping debris from her hextant of the cooling station floor and put up her Bolhii-stick, shook her feet dry and filed out with the others. Through the banks of steam they marched across the Ga-Ta border: Ga-Matoran north and Ta-Matoran south, step in lockstep as the suns went down.
Step in lockstep, except for Tegte. Every few beats, she'd add a step extra, just to let off the building electric feeling she felt. It buzzed in her brain and her limbs, and sometimes she just couldn't contain it. That extra step helped though. Hopefully no one noticed.
It was the end of the eighteenth cycle of an eighteenth Great Cycle, and at start of the previous shift, she'd received an additional tablet with her normal duties: a summons to be re-Named. The Naming Day was tomorrow. That was where the feeling came from...excitement.
One by one the workers filed into cool resting-cells. One by one their eyes darkened.
One by one, except for Tegte. Her eyes still shone, thinking.
She knew why she'd been summoned. She'd felt the shrinking feeling because of it: worry, about what she'd been doing. Out on the station floor, trying new things. The floor of the station flowed with a thin layer of water, sometimes south to quench the forges of Ta-Metru, sometimes southwest to fill the chuteways of Le-Metru, and always the constant filtration left its residue, to be swept away. There was a pattern to follow, and they all did, each in their own hextant.
Except for...she'd found better patterns: faster, more efficient. She'd even covered extra hextants when things went out of sync. A fellow worker slipped and lost time, an unexpected change in the flow-rate...Couldn't help it, and she knew it was noticed. The Elders had been there, to watch.
She'd been worried, but then the summons came, and it lessened, lessened.
Her eyes dimmed...ready to rest...and soon the Great Spirit would bring the gift of names....
Clunk, scrape. A muffled voice sounded outside the cell door. Her eyes went bright again, ears tuned to listen.
"...mind...step. It's dark here," she heard a fluid voice say.
"Last one?" another voice said, this one more gruff.
"Yes, it's a short list this cycle," replied the first.
"Mercifully. My least favorite duty."
"Better this way though, right? Keeps the experience in the city..."
"More filing work for us. Easier to just sent them south for deviations, like we used to...But I see the value. What's the name?"
"This is for...uh...Matoran Tegte."
Tegte sat up in the dark, then moved to the closed door, listening intently. Excitement and worry were taking turns occupying her core.
"Remind me of the readout," the gruff voice said.
"Let's see...the tablet lists 'extraneous activities on duty' and 'improvements to subroutines' as cause."
"Mhm. Recommendations?"
"Looks like two additions and a replacement, minimum."
"That much, eh? Must be quite an innovator."
"Seems so."
"Alright, make the erasure then."
There was a pause. Tegte pressed harder against the door, straining to hear what came next. There was a faint noise outside...a scratching.
The sound of a carving tool on stone.
"Done," came the fluid voice again. "Designation T-E-G-T-E is erased."
Something...happened.
It happened all over, all over the body of the Matoran that crouched against the door in the cell.
It went strange.
It went...empty.
The door slid open, and the Matoran looked at the two Turaga standing in the corridor outside. If the Matoran had known the words, it would have said the Turaga were surprised to see it.
"It's still active," the blue Turaga said.
The red Turaga moved forward and stopped the Matoran from wobbling.
"Careful now, Aitak" said the blue Turaga. "It's easier when they're prone on the slab."
"I know," Aitak replied. His Mask of Telekinesis flashed, and the Matoran moved rigidly backward into the cell, rotated in air and laid gently down.
"Was it...listening?" the blue Turaga asked.
"How should I know?"
"It's strange, is all."
"Well, Rezzah, this is one of the strange ones."
"True..."
"You gonna help?"
Both Turaga moved to stand on either side of the slab. The Matoran looked straight up. The emptiness was all inside. Information went in through the eyes and ears, but nothing happened to it. It just flowed straight through the place where something had once been.
Something about...extra steps...extra hextants. Something that couldn't be contained all the time. A residue of something...some debris...about feeling.
The eyes flicked left, then right. The red Turaga reached down to remove the Matoran's mask.
"I was...excited," the Matoran began to sayā
"What?" said Rezzah.
But then the mask clicked free, and the eyes went empty.
And the body went all to pieces.
"Hmm..." Aitak said, rubbing the chin of his mask. Rezzah frowned.
"We'll make it 'Teegtah', I think," he continued after a few moments.
"T-E-...?"
"T-E-E-G-T-A-H. Got that? Two additions and one replacement."
Rezzah brought up the tablet again, began to carve. She kept her eyes down as her red companion started the reassembly process. Joints clicked back together.
Pieces of debris jostled on the narrow slab.
The carving tool scratched slowly.
"...All finished?" Aitak glanced upward at her.
"Done," she said, still not raising her eyes.
"Still think it's better this way?" Aitak smiled a little as he worked. "Adjusting the parameters of the duty, rather than total refurbishment?"
Another joint snapped in. The whir of a power-core revved up.
"I guess I can still see...the value."
The mask clicked into place. The Matoran sat up, eyes glowing bright.
"Matoran," Turaga Aitak said commandingly, "your designation is now TEEGTAH. Do you understand the duties and parameters which correspond to this Name?"
"Yes."
"At sunsrise, you will make your way to the Coliseum Amaja to be presented for the Naming Day ceremony. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good." Aitak turned, dusted his hands, stepped out the door.
Turaga Rezzah stayed a moment.
"Matoran...uh...Teegtah. Do you..." She stopped, tried again: "Are you...excited?"
The Matoran did not reply.
"Come, sister. Let the Matoran rest."
The two Turaga exited. The door slid shut. Teegtah lay back down on the slab and let her eyes dim, then darken, as the footsteps outside faded.
The emptiness was gone. Information went in, and now it was tangled up in the Name that occupied the space, seeking to sweep off whatever came before...the residue that had accumulated.
Some debris...about feeling.
Her heartlight slowed to a regular beat, same as the heartlights of all the Matoran in all the cells that stretched from there north to the Ga-Metru shore and west to the roots of the Coliseum, on the night when the Great Spirit brought the gift of names.
His eyes hurt, his legs hurt. His arm...it all hurt. The distance hadnāt seemed all that long on the way, but heād had a vehicle then, and his core hadnāt been exhausted from battle. Now...now the true scale of the Great Basin was made real to him. Kio on torturous kio. Even his farthest psionic senses couldnāt yet detect the minds of the workers that labored on the rim above.
Another step. His bad leg dragged, and he tottered, thrusting his good arm out for balance. His other arm poked uselessly at the air: a stump above the elbow. It didnāt help, and another pulse of telekinetic energy was needed to steady himself. He wouldāve fallen headlong otherwise. Thatās what it had come to.
The bad arm itched, and he was obliged to go back inside, back to the psionic corner where pain impulses filtered in from his limbs, deactivate the alarms again. Just an empty numbness now. That was better.
He continued on. He was at least halfway by now, and was that a whisper of a thought he heard? One of the dry responses of the automaton-workers, perhaps? They were always talking to the System in their heads: āConfirm thisā and āAcknowledge thatā. Regular, predictable. Easily tweaked.
Unlike Their minds. Down there, behind him. Theirs had been...unexpected, but he had tried, in spite of it.... Tried to do his duty.
The infestation grows, his masters had said. Down in the pits, between the foundation-ribs. Our scrying shows more hole-boring and tunnels. Toa Orde, it is time for something to be done.Ā
He had tried to do what his masters asked, but it had not been what heād anticipated. A thousand eyes had looked upon him from the pockmarked cliffsides, where the creatures had gnawed away the bones of the world. A thousand minds had turned their attention to his approach, as his sky-sled dropped out of the pale light above and landed in their dim realm. Heād extended his mind to them confidently, establishing the required connections, in order to start his work.Ā
<<Great Beingsā¦?>>Ā
The first thoughts came through. Questions, even curiosity. About him, about his masters. That was to be expected. He widened the link further, calculating population numbers. So many...a vast number of minds...but it shouldnāt be a problem.
<<Great Beings know...>>Ā
<<They...remember...>>
<<Remember...us?>>
He focused on the nearest of the creatures, a pair of eyes in an opening several bio above: the strongest link. He called up the mental schematic that had been provided to him, reviewed the changes required.
<<They...have not...forgotten...?>>
<<They...remember us>>
Simple enough: just a matter of finding the right mental threads to pull, the right pathways to re-wire. And then...Even these aberrants shall be brought into the grand design, as his masters had said. Even these.Ā
All set. He made the first change.
<<What...?>>
Confirmed. The threads yielded to his will, with only a little resistance. It was going well.Ā
He made the second change.
<<But...>>
Confirmed again. Pathways reshaped at his command, a little harder this time, but no problem.Ā
He held the threads taut for a moment to suspend the targetās behavior, re-checked the schematic. Right, all correct.
<<Whyā¦>>
Now he made the third change. This was the most difficult, bringing the final components into conformity. More resistance, but he was almost done. Afterward, the alterations would be propagated throughout their network. Simple enough, if his calculations wereā
Shock. The mental link snapped off, like a limb breaking. It stunned him, disoriented him, but only for a second. Then he was back in his own throbbing head, feeling sick.
There was a noise in the dark space above, and something smashed heavily into the ground before him: A body, all spines and serrated claws. Now broken.
It was the creature he had linked with.
It was dead.
Confusion. What had happened? He had followed the schematic, all the proper directives. The task had almost been complete, but then.... The creature.... Had itā¦? No, surely....
Eyes were moving, up in the darkness. Crawling and scuttling.Ā
He took a step back toward the sled, tried to reestablish his connection. Heād simply try again and thenā
<<Rage>>
<<Resentment>>Ā
He felt his breathing stop. He clutched his head, clenched his jaw involuntarily.Ā
<<Wrath>>
<<Betrayal>>
A wall of chugging, pulsing malice struck him, and he reeled.Ā
Thousands of minds bent on him in unison, overwhelmed his weakened defenses. And each one felt the same thingāthe same feeling of fury, of violationāall feeding each other and consuming each other in an endless psychic loop.
Heād made a mistake, somehow. These were not like the automaton-minds of the workers above. These wereā
<<RAGE>>Ā
<<RESENTMENT>>
Not simply a web of threads and commands to be altered at his whim. They were...They were like him. How?
A barbed spear hurtled out of the dark, skewering his sky-sled and showering him with a cascade of sparks, and in the brief flare, he saw Them with his real eyes.
<<WE REMEMBER>>
He raised his hands. Closer.
<<WE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER>>
*Ā *Ā * * * *
The basin-rim stood another few degrees higher now, and he was certain that he could catch a few strands of thought on the psy-fields. Almost within range, and then he could summon another sled to carry him the rest of the way. His arm throbbed. Heād not been able to keep the pain down for the last stretch.Ā
Teeth gnawing, claws raking at his armor, a shriek shattering the air as his telekinesis tore another of Them limb from limb. And still more piled on. More bodies.Ā
More wrath.Ā
More betrayal.
Maybe he deserved to feel the pain.
On a whim, he looked back over his shoulder, saw the vast wasteland sloping downward behind him. His feet left faint tracks in the fine protodermic dust that covered every sio of the Great Basin. The trail led for many kio, showing the haphazard route he had taken after emerging from the deep defile, still pursued by the creatures. He had killed more of them on the plain. Heād had to.... They wouldnāt stop.... He wouldnāt stop.
Turning back toward the distant rim, he considered for a moment simply reporting success to his masters. They trusted him. Maybe they wouldnāt truth-test the message. And then...then the last complication would be resolved. Everything in order. The valve-gates would be opened, and silver water would pour into the Great Basin.
All part of the grand design.
And down there, in the pits, down between the foundation-ribs...the flood would sweep in. And maybe that would be the end of it.Ā
No bodies. No traces left.
<<Rage>>Ā
<<Resentment>Ā
<<They know>>
Except with him. In his own memory. He would remember.
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We who gather to Amaja remember
How in the Time Before Unity,
Gali of Mata contended with Makuta
Beneath the hollow red stars of hell
And purged that place
With blood and holy protodermis
* * * * * *
Credit to @demitsorou for the "Blood Gali" concept and aesthetic :)
