The dâ vamikèd

The Zurvár people have a large store of legends and myths, many of which are specific to particular Houses. One story shared between almost all Houses however is the dâ vamikèd, or “Tale of Creation”, which seeks to explain the origin of the Zurvár and their culture’s strong relationship to the ocean. Versions of the story have been traced back for over 700 years, and although variations abound, the core narrative of the tale remains constant, with “the Creator” (ràvamiket) making the five important elements of Zurvár existence in a specific order common to all versions.

The version of the dâ vamikèd presented here is taken from the well respected collection of Zurvár myths and songs collated and translated into English by Gâron Kár Vèelisavik in 1987.


The Tale of Creation

In the time before the sun, the Creator needed to cross the Great Ocean. So with his hands he crafted the first boat and set sail on his journey.

But it was dark on the ocean, and the Creator could not see his way. So he took coals from his stove and threw them into the sky. They became the stars and lit his way so he was no longer lost, and he continued on his journey.

But the Ocean was empty of all life and the Creator grew hungry. So he took splinters from his oars and threw them into the water. They became the first fish. He caught a fish, and cooked it on his stove, so he was no longer hungry, and he continued on his journey.

But the journey grew long and there was no sound on the ocean but the wind and the waves and the creak of the boat. The Creator become downhearted. So he tore pieces of cloth from his sail and threw them into the air. They became the first seabirds, which danced between the waves and filled the air with their cries. He was no longer downhearted, and he continued on his journey.

But the Ocean was wide and the Creator grew lonely. So he took twine from his ropes and knotted them together. They became the first Zurvár and provided him with the company he craved. He was no longer lonely, and he continued on his journey.

After many days of sailing, the Great Ocean came to an end.  The Creator beached his boat on the far shore and talked with the Zurvár, teaching them to dance and sing like the seabirds, to catch and cook fish, to navigate by the stars and to build boats of their own. He no longer needed his boat, so he pushed it into the water and set it aflame. But the boat did not sink, it burnt brighter and brighter, then rose into the sky and became the sun.

And to this day the Creator’s boat still sails across the sky every day to remind the Zurvár of the Creator and all that he taught them.


The sequence of Boat, Stars, Fish, Birds and Zurvár (often represented by the knots tied by the Creator) is found in many aspects of Zurvár society, including the standard suits of playing cards and the days of the traditional five day week. The importance of the number five to Zurvár culture is also often traced to the Tale of Creation, although it is unclear whether the primacy of five derives from the five elements of the story, or vice-versa.

The Creator character of the story has never been worshiped by the Zurvár. He (or in some versions she) is not viewed as a god, but as an important and respected ancestor. Some Houses claim direct descent from the Creator via long and complex genealogies, some of which have been proved to be accurate for as far back as the early 1100s, although nowdays those who take such tales as literal truth are far and few between.

The Pèá Vágás

(People have been bugging me to post something to remove our new Prime Minister’s visage from the homepage. Well – to quote TISM – bash this up ya ginga!)

As is common among many human-variant species of local probability, the Zurvár use cards (pèá) for purposes of both gaming and divination. The most common set of cards are called the Pèá Vágás.

The Vágás are divided into five suits, corresponding to five elements of the Zurvár creation myth. These are lòtò (boats), katálá (fish), rindû (seabirds), táká (knots) and minak (stars). Each suit has 10 cards, numbered one to five and double one to double five. The double five of each deck is the pèá tálá or “great card” and has its own name and unique symbol…

lòtò (boats) – altáká (The Sun)
katálá (fish) – hì sùim (The Incoming Wind)
rindû (seabirds) – hì piridim (The Outgoing Wind)
táká (knots) – takal (The Takal – the knot symbol that represents the Zurvár people)
minak (stars) – minak tálá (The Great Star)

Each of the suits is associated with a number of elements and ideas, chiefly of use for divinatory purposes, but also featuring in some card games.

Suit Element Positive Aspects Negative Aspects Roles
lòtò
(boats)
Living Things Protection,
Strength
Restriction,
Intimidation
Protectors and Defenders
katálá
(fish)
Water Reliability,
Skill
Dullness,
Fear
Workers and Labourers
rindû
(seabirds)
Air Creativity,
Passion
Arrogance,
Obsession
Artists and Performers
táká
(knots)
Earth Wisdom,
Intelligence
Resistance to
Change, Passivity
Thinkers
minak
(stars)
Light Ambition,
Persistance
Greed,
Treachery
Guides and Leaders

 

The most basic form of divination is to draw three cards while considering the situation one seeks advice on. The first card reveals positives about the situation, the second negatives, and the third provides a balance between the two. Many Zurvár regard this as nothing more than outdated superstition, but a surprising number will still ‘draw the cards’ before commencing a major undertaking “just for luck”.

In addition to the attributes listed above, every card in the Vágás deck is associated with a particular profession. Again this is used for divination, but it is also used in a number of childrens’ games such as motás qudáqurn (‘balanced house’) where the players attempt to assemble a hand of compatible workers to inhabit their ‘house’.

Lòtò (Boats)
1 – Healer/Doctor
2 – Metaphysician
3 – Militia Member/Peace Officer
4 – Judge
5 – Warrior
11 – Scout/Explorer
22 – War Leader/General
33 – Advocate/Lawyer
44 – Ship’s Carpenter
55 – Ship’s Captain

Katálá (Fish)
1 – Farmer/Butcher
2 – Baker
3 – Brewer
4 – Sailmaker
5 – Carpenter
11 – Potter
22 – Weaver
33 – Labourer/Builder
44 – Metalsmith
55 – Boatbuilder

Rindû (Seabirds)
1 – Sculptor
2 – Dancer
3 – Carver/Engraver
4 – Painter
5 – Singer
11 – Musician
22 – Writer
33 – Tapestry Maker
44 – Storyteller/Bard
55 – Creator (an individual skilled in many artforms)

Táká (Knots)
1 – Student/Scholar
2 – Philosopher
3 – Accountant/Business Person
4 – Historian
5 – Researcher/Scientist
11 – Engineer
22 – Architect/Builder
33 – Marine Architect / Boat Designer
44 – Poet
55 – Sage

Minak (Stars)
1 – Messenger/Mail Carrier
2 – Parent
3 – House Elder
4 – Mayor (elected leader of a Zurvár settlement)
5 – Counselor/Adviser
11 – Mystic/Prophet
22 -Lawmaker
33 – Mapmaker
44 – Teacher
55 – Pilot

Pèá Vágás decks may easily be obtained in any Zurvár settlement and vary from cheap, printed pasteboard to elaborately engraved metal plates aimed at the fortune telling and tourist markets.

Neologism

Came up with a new word last night. “Hilorible”. It means hilarious and horrible at the same time.

For instance, Justin Beiber’s comment about Anne Frank. It’s horrible, but so outrageous that you can’t help laughing – hilorible!

Similarly, just about anything that comes out of the mouth of Alex Jones. Horrible, but hilarious – hilorible!

Use it with pride!

Oh, and while on the subject of Alex Jones and Justin Beiber, who can forget this classic? IT’S PURE EVIL!!

Moit!

One of my guilty pleasures at the moment is the new season of Iron Man: Armored Adventures on ABC 3. Sure, it’s a kid’s show, but it’s fun – and hey, I already classified it as a guilty pleasure, which means I don’t have to justify it to anyone, let alone you.

😉

There was one annoying thing about the episodes they played last night though. The presence of an “Ossy” (which is how Americans strangely insist on pronouncing “Aussie”).

Now I have no strange objection to Australians appearing in American TV shows. It’s nice to see us represented. But what would also be nice would be getting actors who can actually do an Australian accent – as opposed to doing a Cockney accent with “moit” added to the end of every second sentence.

Sure, Americans can’t tell the difference, but believe me it makes us cringe. It’s like representing an American accent by getting a Puerto Riccan to randomly say “pard’ner”. Or a Canadian accent by having a South African end every sentence with “eh?”. It’s bizarre.

Of course, it’s not going to change. But it would be nice.

Or perhaps noice moit!

Sir, have you no Latin?

It’s “Cuss-toe-dez” and “A-star-tez” thank you very much!

I was listening to a couple of 40k podcasts over the weekend (it’s kind of taken over my brain at the moment – don’t panic, it’ll burn itself out after a while), specifically 40k Radio and the Independent Characters. Both were very informative and entertaining and I’ll probably be adding them to my podcast-roll permanently – however there was just one little thing that got my teeth on edge…

Someone (I can’t ever remember which podcast they were on, let alone which of the participants) mentioned that they were considering building an Adeptus Custodes army. This is a fine idea and would look damned awesome on the table top, the problem was that they kept calling the Custodes “Cus-toads”. CUS-TOADS!!

Emperor on a Mobility-Scooter! What next? Calling the Space Marines “Ass-tarts”?

This is what happens when an entire nation takes perfectly serviceable words like “colour” and “realise” and spells them the way they’re actually pronounced! LINGUISTIC ANARCHY!!! 😉

Confessions of Influence

Distorting history since 2001!

Forgive me father for I have sinned…

Way back in the dark ages of the internet (about 2001) I created a page on Wyrmworld about the Caproni CA 60 – one of the most ridiculous aircraft ever constructed. It’s still up there if you know where to look. On this page I noted that the plane was “mysteriously” destroyed in a fire after crashing and going in for repairs.

Now, the CA 60 was certainly destroyed in a fire, but the suggestion that there was anything “mysterious” about it was a humorous supposition on my part. I had absolutely no evidence whatsoever to suggest that the fire was anything but an accident, but I thought it concluded the page quite nicely to suggest that Count Caproni decided to cut his loses and run.

Now, ten years later what do I find when I do some research on the CA 60? References all over the place to it being “mysteriously” destroyed in a fire. I can’t swear that this is all down to me, but it certainly worries me when I’m lying awake at 3:00am unable to sleep.

Sort of related is this page on Wikipedia, and this website. Both mention the following definition of “Aku-Aku”…

verb. To move a tall, flat bottomed object (such as a bookshelf) by swiveling it alternatively on its corners in a “walking” fashion. [After the book by Thor Heyerdahl theorising the statues of Easter Island were moved in this fashion.]

The thing is, I made that up. It’s not as bad as the previous example because I made it up on a website devoted to the creation of new words (the now pretty much defunct langmaker.com), but it’s a bit of a surprise nonetheless. The Wikipedia page in particular needs some fixing, as it seems to suggest that Heyerdhal named his book after my definition of the phrase, which is completely arse-backwards and downright dangerous to history.

Even worse, I actually kinda-sorta lied in my initial definition. Although Heyerdahl did eventually theorise that the Easter Island statues were moved in such a fashion, the book Aku-Aku makes no mention of it whatsoever. Apparently no one has ever bothered to go back and check, which is of course the leading cause of 90% of popular historical inaccuracies.

Who ever knew that this internet thing could be so dangerous? ;D

Luftkissenfahrzeugversicherung!

Eidechsen und Seeschlangen

My good friend Rebecca is learning German. Hence the following email exchange today…

Sprechen du Deutsch? Was ist Ihre Meinung von der örtlichen Fußballmannschaft? Mein Luftkissenfahrzeug ist voller Aale!

Ja, spreche bitte Deutsch, mein Deutsch nicht so gut. Mein Meinung ist schrecklich, der ist kicken sie katzen. So, das ihr Luftkissenfahrzeugversicherung abdeckung Aalen?

Mein Luftkissenfahrzeug Versicherung deckt nur Eidechsen und Seeschlangen.

So, nicht so umfassend.

Der Aal Versicherung benötigt eine zusätzliche 30 Euro im Monat. Ich vermute, meine Versicherung gegen Fisch ist voreingenommen…

Achzo, Fisch Vorurteil ist sehr häufig.

Ich habe gehört, dass. Leider habe ich nicht der Ansicht, die Vorliebe von Aalen für unkonventionelle Fahrzeuge bei der Auswahl meiner Versicherung, weil ich nur mit meinem Hovercraft zu Lande bestimmt. Ich hätte nicht gedacht, sie würden die Migration aus dem Wasser, um es zu suchen. Jetzt muss ich Mitarbeiter ein Aal-Entfernungs-Dienstes.

(Disclaimer: I do not speak German, I just use a lot of Google Translate ;))

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