So far I’ve talked about how to create the sound and shape of a fictional language, and why it’s the most important part of any world. Today I’m discussing how you can actually go about increasing the vocabulary and implementing it within your creation.

Although there are probably a number of ways to go about this, the easiest for me has been just naming things as they come up in the world – rather than worrying about everything at once.

First of all I name places. Place names define the character and hold meaning for a location. It is also a useful building block as words such as the word for ‘town’ or ‘home’ are used frequently as suffixes. The dominant language in Barugaland is Barugan, and let’s say the word for ‘town’ in this ‘stad’ (drawing some influence from German and Dutch – ‘stadt’). Now that I have this I can begin to look for places for towns on the map – something I will return to in more detail in another article – and see what the characteristics of that town would be.

A florist town, famous for its blossom may have adopted the name of a one of its flowers. If I were translate blossom as ‘Blomen,’ the town could become Blomenstad. Naming places in this way allows the language to keep a coherent tone and flesh out useful words quickly.

The same approach can be extended beyond towns: points on a compass, castles, ports, rivers, forests, hills, anything that could appear as a suffix or prefix in conjunction with another word to name the place.

This technique will cover a lot of the natural world and general civilisation, however it won’t be much use for speaking. The next step is to go about filling in the blanks of a simple conversation. Imagine two individuals meeting each other and saying a bit about themselves; where they’re from, their family, their age, what they do.

Start with some pronouns and basic conjunctives, maybe use some of the words you already have to help give a topic, then verbs to express what’s happening. Slowly but surely I will translate the conversation into Barugan. Consider some alternative grammar for different tenses, or gendering words. Consider that their numerical system may not work in tens.

Something I often implement is also a very German feature of language – combining words to give new meaning. An example: kool in German means ‘cool’ or ‘cold’, and schrank means ‘cupboard’, but together they make koolschrank. A fridge. In a previous language of mine, the word for ‘grave’ was a combination of ‘forever’ and ‘bed’. This way of combining words has always appealed to me and seems the most logical way to develop a language.

Perhaps the something worth mentioning at this point is that, in a gaming context, the language is going to be severely limited. Although a language undoubtedly helps players immerse and engage with your world, too much will be overwhelming and actually detract from the game. I would advise using the language for non-essential, things such as place names or using it sparingly in conversation so the players can manage the learning curve.

For instance, although my previous world and D&D campaign had a language living in the place names and had words for a lot of nouns within the world, I didn’t call mountains mjora – I called them mountains. This was the case for most words bar one or two – noticeably the word for temple; a nathador. By the end of the campaign my players would use this word in place of temple and it was incredibly satisfying. Had I done this for every word I doubt it would have had the same effect or stuck with the players.

Something else to consider with the languages development, is if it exists alongside the common tongue – whatever that is to you. A lot of D&D worlds will incorporate the native language of the players and exists within the fantasy. However two languages existing together will undoubtedly impact each other in some way. Don’t be afraid to borrow words from your native language, perhaps changing a vowel or an ending to a word. It may seem contrary to the whole concept of worldbuilding but realistically that would be the case if the languages were existing alongside each other. The same applies if more than one fictional language exists in your world; lands closer to the borders may have their own hybrid dialogue.

A language can be intimidating to simply sit down and start writing, but I hope this little trilogy of posts has helped with getting started. Obviously this is lengthy task to flesh it out completely to the level of Tolkien’s elvish or Star Trek’s Klingon, but the more your world develops, the more your language will develop alongside it. All I can say is be not afraid and good luck to all in your linguistic endeavours!