Thursday 26 July 2012

Blood, Birth and Social Mannerisms - Rahad


Greetings, noble friends!

I am Rahad al Raegar ad Azaran, of the proud nation of Skerabia. I fear my titles would be somewhat lost on you, save for the fact that my author – in her infinite wisdom – saw fit to mark me as a “minor character” in that trilogy that she so enjoys muttering about when she’s looking for something to throw at a wall.

“Minor character”, bah. If it weren’t for me, the first book would have ended very differently, and there would be no trilogy whatsoever. And yet she repays me simply by allotting me a cameo in the final book? The ingrate!

Ah, apologies, I seem to have deviated. Forgive me, it is not often I get a chance to speak to such an esteemed audience without having something thrown at me by the band of intoxicated nincompoops that I live alongside. Their manners are best described as being on par with those of monkeys, though I would not repeat that for fear of insulting the monkeys. And as for their language . . . I hope you can envisage me shuddering.

Manners, as I am sure you are all aware, are absolutely crucial in marking out from whence and from what lineage one issues. Which, by some act of serendipity, brings me on to my allotted topic for this post.

Due to my expertise in the area, my authoress has requested that I draw from my vast stores of experience and give you a few choice tips on mannerisms, and what they can mean for a given individual. Fictional individuals, that is. I regrettably have no experience with any others.

I shall begin with the most obvious thing one can mark about a person upon meeting them: their accent.

Place two denizens of the same nation together, and listen to the way they speak. The variations in their pronunciation of words, and their usage thereof, can not only tell you from what part of the country they come from – which is very helpful if the region you are dealing with is large – but may also reveal something of their social background. I tested this experiment on two of the denizens of my own tale; the mercenary, Rin Takarsson, he whose hair impersonates a tangerine, and the infinitely pleasant, if somewhat stony-faced, southern lord Petrolien of Aven.

The difference between them is impossible to miss – Rin’s thick northern accent and use of shorter words betrays his area of origin, his rustic upbringing, and his lack of education. The way the man abuses syntax is unbelievable.

Lord Petrolien, meanwhile, is softer spoken, and has a larger vocabulary – as befitting a man of his rank. He also speaks with an inflection of the voice that is very particular to the upper class . . . meaning he talks through his nose, but don’t tell him I said that.

There are, of course, innumerable other things one can watch out for, including these:
1 - Use of certain colloquial phrases (I once said “as confused as a camel in a sandstorm”, and only my compatriots understood me. Everyone else asked what on earth a camel was).
2 - The way one carries oneself (I have never seen anyone swagger half as much as minor gentry do)
3 - Local superstition creeping into practice (the traders who visit my home city always spit over their shoulders when talking about unfavourable weather conditions, while diplomats always shake your right hand - your weapon-wielding hand - first, as a sign of friendship)

Sometimes even small actions that accompany an individual's conversation can be enlightening, though its study may be more helpful for marking out liars, or those with secrets. Unless, you, for some unfathomable reason, are living in a city consisting entirely of thieves, in which case I wonder what sort of map you were using to end up there.

I could go on but, I fear, I am lingering. It has been my pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I do hope I shall have the chance to reconvene with you in the future.

Until then, may the Almighty smile upon you.

~ Rahad al Raegar ad Azaran

19 comments:

  1. *tackle hug* oh, hm.. you'd probably prefer a more diginified hello right, rahad? *grins* Sorry, my exuberant teenage side get s the best of me, especially when Ryan is...

    (HI hi! - Ryan pops up, as he usually does - At least you got to be in Book 1... Though I suppose that gives us two books each and I might get to appear in all three if she ever revises them and...)

    Yes exausting little one *smile*

    (Okay Rahad - Sarah walks in - analize me - she grins at him, twinkle in her eye.)

    *eyeroll* - Well hope Charley is having fun. Though I always find her characters are amusing.

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    1. Thank you! Your comments are kindle appreciated, Lady Elorithryn - though I perhaps could have done without the . . . exuberant . . . embrace.

      Master Ryan! It has been a long time since I last saw you! Indeed, I too am campaigning for a larger part in the series - though not so much in the second book, as I believe I am making my own journey home at that time. But I was much aggrieved that I was not more prominent in the third, as if I would abandon my friends, barbarians though they are, to suffer such indignities - which I most certainly knew about!!

      Bah, Charley shall see reason, I know she will!

      Analyse you, Lady Sarah? But i know absolutely nothing of your own world! I need at least SOME idea of the social customs and appearanes of a place before I can make a correct - and non offensive - guess!

      ~ Rahad

      {From Charley: Hehe, he's enjoyed this little moment far too much methinks xD}

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    2. I know, sometimes I just can't help it *grins at Rahad*

      (Ooohhh... - Ryan grins - maybe someday someday she'll write about your journy home and then return to help... I know Elo's planning on writing about my teenage life - Ryan looks to his author - Right?)

      Not answering that - to Charely - of course he is. It's his change in the lime light and get support for becoming more of a major-minor character. :}


      (pff - Sarah dismisses her world - I'm more interested to see how I'm perceived by your world. I do hope to be meeting a relative of yours, if but for a breif cameo. Besides - she calps rahad on the back - I've very hard to offend.)

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  2. Oo you have an awesome name Rahad al Raegar ad Azaran (yeah, I copied and pasted it...how does your author cope writing it out like that all the time?) Extremely interesting post, Mr Rahad. Maybe you should request the transition from minor character...to major. Or ask for a pay rise! But be careful...minor characters sometimes, you know, just *disappear* if they get too annoying. Shh. Authors are insane! Watch your step...

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    1. Greetings, Lady Cait!
      Ha, I know all too well the unstable mental conditions of my creator - I assure you, my strategem is most subtle and cunning. Well, I think so, every other buffoon in the vicinity seems to think it's going to end with my head removed, but I say they have no imagination.

      I am very glad my name pleases you - I am rather attached to it myself!

      Regards,
      ~ Rahad

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  3. You, sir, are smarter than Charley. That being so, I'll leave you to figuring out how that's possible. But why, that's a different matter: never have I seen a post by Charley on accents and speech, which I love. So there, blog host; your characters are better than you. Occasionally. When it comes to LotR-based role-plays, there's no one like Charley.

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    1. Why thank you, good sir - though I fear the look my author is giving you over my shoulder may be a portent to some impending doom (which I suspect you have survived before).

      And yes, I am infinitely more intelligent than she is. She just won't admit it. Don't tell her I typed this, she will eat me.

      LotR? What is this fabled thing? It sounds scintillating!

      ~ Rahad

      {From Charley: Please excuse me while I throw something at my character . . .}

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    2. Exactly. Though you may be in possession of considerable intellect, you still don't know what LotR is, and thus cannot qualify for such RPs.

      {To Charley: Go right ahead. He's even more conceited than I am.}

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    3. {Charley: Rahad would reply, but I think I hit him a liiiiiiiittle too hard with that frying pan. I shall let him know of your statement when he comes round . . . if he does . . .
      Whoopsie.}

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    4. {Give him a nice pat on the head for me-- a sharp pat right on the lump.}

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    5. {Oh yes. With the frying pan. Again. *cackles*}

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    6. {I'm sending you a sledgehammer. A giant, three-foot long, metal hammer that would beat Thor's any day. Feiron adores this thing.}

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    7. {Oooh! Tell Feiron I shall return it . . . once I've finished with it *cackles*}

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    8. {Feel free to take your time. Wait, scratch that-- please do take your time. He hasn't paid me for the damages yet.}

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    9. {*cackles and skitters off to take posession of the aforementioned sledgehammer.}

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    10. {Oh, and clean it before giving it back.}

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  4. Ah, this is something I came across when writing our good friend Cormac, who seems to be terrified of using contractions...

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    1. Contractions, you say? Well . . . I've heard of stranger fears. Good luck to your Cormac in overcoming his grammar aversion.

      ~ Rahad

      {Ehehehehe, I managed to get even this guy - who I refer to as "Snob" to myself - to use contractions. Poor Cormac xD}

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