Here, have some words:
Quick reminder that “wis” is a contraction for “who is” or, more specifically, “who is good at [being a],” and that a typical Pocali name construction would be [UNIQUE PERSONAL NAME] wis [PRIMARY SKILL]. If you want more detail, this appendix post has the deets.
If you are a nerd for background details, you can find out Cobb’s primary skill (at least, as assigned by the relevant authorities) at the bottom right of the last panel on page 8. It’s not an assignment Cobb has made any particular effort to contest.
In other news, I’ve begun thumbnailing chapter 12, oh yes. It took a bit longer than I’d expected to get to the thumbnailing stage, even though the script has been pretty much ready to go for a few weeks. There are some new environments, y’see, and a couple of characters I needed to find out more about [what do you look like? what brings you to this story?], so I’ve been busy concept-arting.
And, sure enough, getting to know the characters a bit more changed the script somewhat. Now that I had a better idea of who A and B were, I could see the places where the original dialogue was no longer appropriate. I also wound up having to add a couple of pages to the chapter past what I’d originally intended.
But! Thumbnailing is now, which means pencils are soon.
And Chapter 11 continues next week regardless. See you then!
The names humans have for many of the flora and fauna of the Valley come from Rovari, the Daraz language (Daraz are native to the Valley, humans are not). This particular creature is called merev gombi in Rovari, which literally means “hard sphere.” Humans usually just call this animal “merev.”
Merev are the beast of burden of choice for this region. Opportunistic grazers, they’ll eat just about anything placed in front of them, making them extremely easy to maintain. They’re slow but sturdy, and nearly indestructible. When spooked, they don’t run: they pill. If you get into a spot of bother, you know your cart will be more or less where you left it.
The merev’s hide is too tough for many predators to pierce, and its center of gravity too low for them to knock it over. So most predators simply don’t bother with them. YOU might get eaten, but your pack animal won’t.
The merev is not an insect; it is yet another of the many monotreme species in the Valley.
The Daraz we’ve met thus far in the Valley of the Silk Sky comics speak a regional dialect called Rovari.
Rovari is a tonal language that, if you [a human, I presume] could hear in its full range, would sound very musical, with voiced tones over more sibilant sounds.
But you can’t hear its full range, because much of it is voiced in supersonic frequencies. So to a human the language sounds harsh, buzzing and staccato.
Humans are not physically capable of speaking Rovari, lacking the required physiology and sonic range. Luckily, Daraz don’t generally have trouble speaking human languages (though they do tend to speak with a lisp), and often take on roles as translators.
Daraz have fairly poor vision: they don’t see color or detail, and their language reflects that in that they don’t have words for specific colors, nor do their idioms reference sight. They comprehend detail through sound, via echolocation, so words for precision reference hearing. For example, they might say “I hear you” instead of “I see” to signal understanding.
They do have extremely sensitive senses of smell, so there are thousands of words for different smells, indeed different individual esters, and further metaphorical meanings for those various words. Daraz names almost always reference scents, and are formally constructed as “Smells Like .” Halvanylila = “Smells Like the Fourth Ester of Lilac.”