Creating Pizan: The Language of Conquistadors and Conquest

In my ongoing development of the languages of the world of Crown of Crows, I’ve been working on Pizan, a language with a complex fictional history rooted in Spanish colonization and subsequent English influence. (Originally, I called this Coloroyal; and before that, it was the language of the Knorrmen. Its inspiration is the culture of the Calormenes in Lewis’s Narnia.) This conlang reflects a different set of historical and cultural pressures than Artanga, exploring themes of imperialism, cultural assimilation, and linguistic evolution under conquest.

The Historical Framework

Pizan is spoken in Karsêrha, a land colonized first by Spanish conquistadors from 16th century Peru. They arrived in a dry river valley about 200 years after the creation of the world, and called it Arcillaria, the Land of Clay. About 70 years later, the language was heavily influenced by English colonial forces from 19th century Africa. This dual colonization created a fascinating linguistic evolution:

1. Old Pizan (204-275): Primarily based on Early Modern Spanish, spoken by the first Spanish colonizers — military forces and religious orders who established themselves along the Rio del Oro.
2. Creolization Period (275-600): A period of significant transformation when English colonizers arrived, leading to a creolization process that introduced English vocabulary and simplified Spanish grammar. During this period the country had English as its official language and was called New Queensland.
3. High Pizan (600-1950): The standardization period under rulers like Vigadasâr, during which the language became more formalized and developed strict rules for pronunciation and writing. The name of the country was established as Karsêrha, the new form of Arcillaria.

The Linguistic Evolution

During the Creolization Pizan period, the language underwent systematic sound changes that transformed its Spanish origins:

• Spanish consonants became voiced and / or fricative between vowels
• Complex consonant clusters simplified in predictable ways
• Long vowels developed from certain syllable contractions
• Grammar simplified dramatically, losing gender, articles, and most conjugations
• New word formation processes emerged, especially compounding

What makes Pizan particularly interesting is how these changes mirror real-world processes seen in creole languages, while still creating something distinctly fictional and tied to the power dynamics of its imagined setting.

Q&A: Developing Pizan

Q: What inspired you to create a Spanish-based conlang rather than starting from scratch?

In this world, as in Narnia, it’s clear that the humans aren’t really native in the same way that the animals and plants are. All of their ancestors arrived from Earth at one time or another. And for the Karsêrhans in particular, I wanted a patriarchal, violent society that had an imperialistic, Mediterranean feel. I could have gone with Romans, but I was already attaching Latin to the Witch, and I wanted something with more of a medieval feel. The conquistadors of Spain were perfect. To mix things up and not just make it a new Spanish dialect, I decided to add the imperial English as a superstrate, and that led immediately to the idea of intense creolization.

Q: How did you decide which Spanish features to preserve and which to change?

I’ve researched creolization quite a bit in the past so it was easy to review the phonology of Spanish and look for areas that would likely change during the process. I also had a few key words and names that I wanted to make sure sounded good, like Toshpâna, Teste Rhoga, Rhâmbodash, and of course Karsêrha itself.

Q: The language seems to reflect power structures in its development. Was that intentional from the beginning?

Absolutely. No language evolves independently of the power structures in its society. Creolization in English occurred when the Normans invaded in 1066, and in Dutch when the English invaded South Africa in the 19th century. American English has a major north / south dialect division, as well as vertical and class and ethnic divisions, that are held over from the slaveholding era. For Artanga, originally just 19th century Irish, I added complexity with the invasion of the Witch with her Latin and the Maradínel with their English. The layers of language and social structures allow me a lot of freedom in the development of words and names that are as beautiful and evocative as I can make them, while illuminating the stratification and power structures in these fictional societies.

Q: High Pizan has some interesting orthographic choices, like the circumflex accent (â). What was your thinking behind these decisions?

In point of fact Kate Gladstone (you can see her web site here) gave me some great feedback and suggestions there. In general I dislike diacritics, apostrophes, and letters like “k” and “z,” since they’re so often used in fantasy literature to signal rough, exotic, masculine-coded cultures. If left to my own devices, Karsêrha might have been spelled Carseerha. But Kate’s feedback showed me that it was important that the names’ sounds be quickly recognized, and to use, say “ee” for /e:/ instead of /i/ would only confuse people. Using “ê” instead (modeled on Welsh’s use of the diacritic for a long vowel) would be much better. And as it turned out, I was able to use just a smattering of “k” and “z” and the occasional diacritic, just for flavor, as it were. The rest of the language flows quite nicely, as you’ll see below. I think the overall effect comes off as a bit like Adûnaic, as opposed to, say, Khuzdul. I also want to thank Kate for offering to work on the writing system of Karsêrha; she’s much better versed in orthographic systems than I am, and I’m really excited with what she’s come up with so far.

Q: How do you balance linguistic authenticity with creative freedom when developing a fictional language?

Linguistic authenticity actually gives you a tremendous amount of freedom. Languages do crazy things sometimes. The Great English Vowel Shift, which moved all the vowels around in the mouth in the course of a hundred years or so, was just nuts. We’re just beginning to understand the underlying mechanisms there. Or the Grimm’s Law change, which did something similar to Proto-Indo-European consonants — no one knows why. But you do need to have a sense of the kinds of things that happen, in the same way that you can get a sense of the structure of musical changes in a song. A language won’t suddenly reverse all the sounds in nouns, for example, or delete the third /k/ in each word. But if there’s a feeling you’re going for, an aesthetic for a society or culture, you can usually find a way for the language to reflect that while remaining authentic to real language change.

Examples of Pizan in Action

Names

• Spanish Francisco de Alvarado → Pizan Prhazisho Kalvarhayo
• Spanish María de los Santos → Pizan Mâlsanto
• Spanish Juan Rodríguez → Pizan Hugan Rhonrighez
• Spanish Lobo de la Oscuridad “Wolf of the Darkness” → Pizan Lovoltoshôndanda (Churwick: Tash)
  • In addition to this name, the Wolf, the primary deity of Karsêrha, is known as Lovolnoshe (Wolf of the Night), Lovo Toshurho (Dark Wolf), and most commonly by the euphemism Toshurho or Tosh. (Thanks to Kate again for this suggestion!) Tosh also means “ox” (as in the name of the city Toshpâna), so he is sometimes portrayed as a mighty Ox. But he most often appears as a man with the head of an osprey (Tasprhê) because of the many ospreys that hunt in the clay marshlands downstream of the city.
• Spanish este roc “this roc” → Teste Rhoga (Churwick: Tisroc)
• English orchid → Torkina. (Churwick: Tarkaan)
  • A name for a provincial governor or military leader, called so because of the red orchid displayed on their ceremonial regalia. The red orchid was associated with the descendants of Field Marshal Davies, who chose it as the symbol of his family in memory of his mother, who loved them but could never afford to have them in their home. The Hânanotorkina (Orchid Garden) he built for the Palace of the Tise Rhoga was eventually the heart of the Hânanosenyor complex built by Rhâmbodosh the Peacemaker.
  • At first Torkina could refer to both male and female members of the royal family, but after a short time the females began to use the Spanish-derived name for the flower (orquídea), Torkidhega. Churwick adopted these names as Tarkaan and Tarkheena, probably influenced by the Turkish name Tarkan, an old word for a member of the nobility.
• English educated → Zugêndinda (Churwick: Zardeenah).
  • Originally an appellate of a goddess associated with wisdom and education, The Lady Educated, which came from a character created in the time of Field Marshal Davies to inspire young women to study English. In Pizan this became Lêyi Zugêndinda. Over time, as education reforms were dropped or changed, she became associated with young virginal women, guiding them in preparation to become married. She was also sometimes called Nazegashan (dejected) or Sarhoz (sorrows) — (perhaps influenced by the folktale of the Weeping Lady) — or the Lady of the Shadows, Ndamalsomrha.

Common Words

• Spanish caballo (horse) → Pizan kavâmbo
• Spanish ciudad (city) → Pizan sigudhana
• Spanish iglesia (church) → Pizan pigleziga
• English slave → Pizan slêv
• English soldier → Pizan solzar (a high-ranking soldier)
• Spanish soldado → Pizan solayo (a low-ranking soldier)

Phrases

1. Spanish: Los soldados marcharon hacia la ciudad Pizan: Solndayosa hana marsha kaziga sigudhana (The soldiers marched toward the city)
2. Spanish: Tash protege a los fieles Pizan: Tash prhondeghe pídeles. (Tash guards the loyal)
3. Spanish: El gobernador de la provincia Pizan: Tarkinalkalani (The governor of the province / colony)

Crown of Crows, Korhonalkudervo

In Karsêrha, language serves as both a barrier and bridge between different social classes. Even in the High Pizan period, characters may code-switch between English and Pizan, revealing their social position and political allegiances through their linguistic choices. As in all deep worldbuilding, the authenticity serves to highlight all aspects of society, inevitably bringing social justice issues to light.

I’m currently exploring how Pizan might have evolved following the Rhonakaveza uprising, potentially developing dialectal variations based on regional differences. I’m also considering how indigenous influences, deliberately suppressed during the colonial period, might resurface in later forms of the language. This will all appear in Pizan as it is spoken in Crown of Crows, which occurs much later than the High Pizan period I’ve worked up to here.

If you’re interested in learning more about Pizan or seeing it in action, I’ll be sharing occasional excerpts and world-building details here and on my Patreon, often for free. Soon we’ll return to our series on telepathy technology and computational linguistics, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on constructed languages in the comments below! How do you approach language in your own worldbuilding? Do you prefer detailed linguistic systems like this, or a more impressionistic approach?