Iruga is a fictional language of Aerda spoken by the Irugatites which one of my characters, Eoin (AY-oh-ihn), speaks. (He's my profile pic :D) It is written with an abjad with a small exception of two "vowel letters" like Hebrew and is widely considered a "dead" language used mostly by Irugatite scholars and religious folk. On Aerda, it's spoken mainly by the Irugatite elites to convey high social class, though some folk songs are still passed down in some families. It is also used in certain fields of study such as medicine, dracology, and theology.
Eoin's father was originally from a more well-to-do family and spent years researching dragons. He learned the language and taught it to his son through religious texts. During his time in charter school, Eoin refined his knowledge and was recognized as having high proficiency by the Venerable Order for the Teaching and Study of Iruga* (VotTSI). (a simple play on words: vottsi means "council, assembly, group of people") From this Eoin developed an affinity for theology and loves studying ancient texts.
Anyway, without further ado, I give you the Iruga abjad (with IPA symbols):
and some sample words...
fishit - maiden, young woman
gelresh - war
kwit - what, which
This has been really fun to work on and develop! As always, I'm open to questions and suggestions :)
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In Iruga, the letters for [j] and [w] are often pronounced [ʒ] and [v], respectively, by certain groups of Irugapyeth. This sometimes leads to confusion between speakers, especially when names are concerned, so here are some possible misreadings in Iruga.
Typically pronounced: Eoin (name).
Other readings: Evan, Oyen, Avazhen, Awazhen
Typically pronounced: Vah (meaning "how?")
Other readings: Wah, Va'ah
These are fun :D more to come maybe? Or maybe a vowel-marking system in cases of ambiguity...
The breeze gently played with her bubblegum pink hair as she sat looking out over the Florengreen. Each flower sambaed with their partner, the resulting waves cascading across the field of wildflowers and mesmerizing her for the moment. An oak tree stood vigil in the midst of the technicolor field. Its leaves shimmered, and its trunk stood strong and immovable. Birds sang sonnets to one another accompanied by grasshopper fiddling with toad continuo. The sun beamed heavenly delight onto the Dwarf's face as she soaked in the springtime scene.
The crunch of grass joined the symphony, percussive, grating, and familiar. Looking up, she greeted Conrad and Eoin with a smile, who took a seat on each side of her wordlessly. The symphony started again with a pastoral melody of chirps, tweets, and croaks. No one dared to speak. That would be poor performance etiquette. Right now, Nature was singing her magnum opus, and for the moment, all seemed right with the world.
