Blog

End of November writing report

I’ll admit that I used a time machine to send this post to actually be at the end of November because I didn’t want to see a month-long gap in posts on my blog. I’ll also admit that I did absolutely zero work on my conlang, which is why this is not a greyfolk language report—it’s a writing report.

For the entire month of November, I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), and I won by writing 50,000 words of a shitty first draft in just 30 days! I had just started prepping only a few days before November, but I knew that it was something I really wanted to give effort and time. For a while now, I’ve had some ideas about a post-apocalyptic story in my head—but something that was (kind of) different from my greyfolk stories.

It was heavily inspired by Eidetic Memory: The Mercy Dolls by David L. Pulver in Pyramid #3/90: After the End with The Redeemers by Jason “PK” Levine in Pyramid #3/88: The End Is Nigh, and I don’t think that I could give either of them enough credit. It mostly follows a boy named Noa in a post-apocalyptic world where a virus wiped out most of humanity and mutated many of its survivors. Eventually, Noa leaves his home—a village called Digsby—to travel the barrens in search of a new life for himself where he encounters a ragtag crew that saves Noa’s life. Something, something, mutation holds a deep secret. I’m not great at figuring out what the tagline is, especially because I think the draft could be twice as long if not more before it’s finished.

You can read what I wrote here: Yandt Greyson NaNoWriMo 2019 Project.

That stressful month of writing is over, so, now, I plan to move forward with that draft at a more accommodating pace while I return to working on my conlang. It was nice to take a break from it—I feel refreshed.

End of October greyfolk language report

To be honest, I wrote my last post because I got caught up on whether I should capitalize ‘greyfolk’ or not in this post’s title.

During October, I had 15-ish strong days of work on my conlang, which isn’t too much more than last month, but, somehow, I put out six posts this month (not counting the belated end-of-month report for September which I actually wrote in October) compared to September’s two posts, and the two posts in September were about GURPS. So, six posts about my conlang is great work!

Because I was so diligent about posting, there is only one thing that I talked about in my conlang journal that I didn’t talk about here. I was working on disyllabic roots and Hamming distance for disyllabic roots before I decided to focus on my typeface, which I completed! I’d like to return to disyllabic roots so I can have at least a dozen or so meaningful sentences in my language before the end of 2019, but…

Next month, I will also be doing NaNoWriMo, so my conlang will take a back seat for a while. If I can make time to work out Hamming distance for disyllabic roots, I should be able to freely create new words on the fly, but the focus will still be on my writing. Right now, I think I’ll make blog posts about my NaNoWriMo project(s) as I hit word-count milestones. However, I don’t think I’ll share too much content (at least before NaNoWriMo is over)—it’d be posts about the process or just sharing my progress.

Right now, I can say that I feel like my NaNoWriMo work has greatly helped me reestablish my connection with my creative story-telling energy, which I’ve been lacking since I informally took a break from writing and even more so since my last GURPS campaign ended. It feels nice, and I hope it helps me rekindle my tabletop RPG flame too!

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Is it Greyfolk or greyfolk?

That’s a question that I’m still asking and answering myself!

Proper nouns—such as names of countries, nationalities, and languages—should be capitalized. However, when I’m talking about greyfolk, it’s like talking about humans/humanity, which are concepts that aren’t capitalized. So, ‘the English language’ is capitalized, but the idea of ‘human language’ isn’t.

Of course, I could also call it ‘the Greyfolk language’ if I wanted to, but it’s not the only language of greyfolk. Though, I admittedly get tripped up because I often say ‘the greyfolk’ (species, language, or otherwise) because ‘greyfolk‘ is a collective noun, which means it’s always plural—like ‘people’!—and calling it ‘the greyfolk language’ makes me want to capitalize the ‘g’. Though, to be fair, people’s language makes more sense than just people language. It’s confusing—the term ‘greyfolk’ is used like a common name.

Furthermore, just because I use ‘the’ doesn’t mean I need to capitalize greyfolk if I talk about it in a different way. It’s ‘the language of the people’ or ‘the people’s language’. So, if I’m referring to them as a people or as a species or whatever, then it would be fair to call my language the language of the greyfolk or the greyfolk’s language.

I haven’t answered the question, though; I’ve just been musing and rambling about it. My answer is that I’m tossing the capital ‘G’ because I think it’s a bad habit. I prefer greyfolk (language), (this) greyfolk language, the greyfolk’s language, or (the/this/a) language of the greyfolk. Eventually, it will get a name within the language itself, and then that’s probably what I’ll start using over anything else because it’ll be less confusing.

In the same vein, for the group, I prefer (the) greyfolk (species). So, just ‘greyfolk’ or ‘the greyfolk’ is fine because it should (as long as I remember) imply the species and not the language unless just ‘greyfolk’ is used in a context concerning language. I think Homo cinerium might work too.

New greyfolk language typeface, syllable blocks, numerals

After working on other pieces of the greyfolk language for so long, I am genuinely proud to present the new typeface: klepalka (it’s in a .zip file since .ttf files aren’t normally allowed by WordPress). The name is just a transliteration of the work ‘greyfolk’ into the greyfolk language. Instead of just containing a few syllable blocks to use as examples, this typeface includes all 420 syllable blocks. It also contains all letters and numerals, of course, but also punctuation!

greyfolk m n p t k s y l h a e i o u
qwerty m n p t k s y l h a e i o u
greyfolk 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F
qwerty 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 A B C D E F
greyfolk , ; . « » ( ) [ ] # ~
qwerty , ; . « » ( ) [ ] # ~

The letters should be pretty self-explanatory.

The numerals work for up to a hexadecimal system, which is why A–F is included. As far as I know, greyfolk (mostly) use a duodecimal system, but, in designing the numerals and learning more about different bases, it made sense to give the numerals a bit more flexibility. There is a pattern to the numerals. On the top, it goes abcd abcd abcd abcd. On the bottom, it goes aaaa bbbb cccc dddd. An ‘a’ is one leg, a ‘b’ is a flat, a ‘c’ is two legs, and a ‘d’ is a circle.

The punctuation is fairly straightforward, but it works a little different in the greyfolk language than it does in English. The comma is a short pause, and it can stand in for or replace the particle «hu» «hu ». The semi-colon is a medium pause, and it can stand in for or replace the particle «syu» «syu ». The em dash is a long pause, and it is used to a similar effect—it ties two phrases together. For each of these punctuation marks, they are dots (or very small marks in this case) that move out horizontally for a longer pause. Then, there comes the period, which marks the end (and sometimes also the beginning) of a sentence, which is two of these dots/marks stacked vertically. The single guillemets are the first level of quotation marks and the double guillemets are the second level of quotation marks. The parentheses look like angle brackets, but they are used for de-emphasis marks, which do function a lot like parentheses, but can also be used to show whispering or an aside. The square brackets are used for emphasis marks, which is kind of like using italics, bold, or even exclamation points. The number sign is a really smushed «hu » because all numerals start with that syllable. Then, there’s the tilde, which I really only added because it’s fun. Oh, and there’s no question mark because greyfolk language has obligatory interrogatives in the language itself.

Syllable blocks have also changed shape again, and they changed back to what they looked like before. The only difference is that vowels are smaller, which really helps with the legibility of the entire syllable.

  • «ma» is a CV syllable and looks like «ma »
  • «mya» is a CCV syllable and looks like «mya »
  • «mam» is a CVC syllable and looks like «mam »
  • «myam» is a CCVC syllable and looks like «myam »

So, nothing crazy there. Though, «m» in the onset position does have a small curve to help with legibility.

It should also be noted that syllable blocks are ligatures in this typeface. It’s definitely not the best system, especially since ligatures have to be manually turned on in some places (like Microsoft Word), but it does work. A sequence of letters turns into its syllable block form when followed by a space. So, «myam» «myam » is typed out as «myam ». Again, it’s a bit hacky, but it works well-enough for my purposes, and I’m very happy with that because I had no experience in designing typefaces going into this. As far as I know, other written languages with syllable blocks (like Korean’s Hangul) use special software, which would be even further out of my range. For now.

Also, yes, I know that the klepalka typeface is sometimes a bit green- or pink-tinted. I see it on Google Chrome on my desktop computer, and I can only assume it’s because of how Google Chrome handles certain typefaces.

For the names of the letters and numbers, I threw together a chart. It could be clearer, though it it’s not too unclear.

letter («syu-») number («hu-») name suffix
h 0 «-han»
m 1 «-mam»
n 2 «-nal»
p 3 «-pal»
t 4 «-tan»
k 5 «-kam»
s 6 «-sla»
y 7 «-yal»
l 8 «-lam»
9 «-mla»
A «-nya»
B «-pya»
C «-tlan»
D «-syam»
E «-nlal»
F «-myan»
10 «-mamhan»
a «-ha»
e «-he»
i «-hi»
o «-ho»
u «-hu»

Thus, 0 is «huhan» «hu han ». The number names are pretty final (other than B–F, which aren’t very important to me), but the letter names aren’t set in stone. For counting or reciting the alphabet, repeating the prefixes isn’t necessary so long as there is a comma. Counting to duodecimal ten would go like this: «huhan, mam, nal, pal, tan, kam, sla, yal, lam, mla, nya, pya, mamhan». There may be a way to shorten numbers in the future, but that’s something else that I haven’t figured out yet as it might conflict with other disyllabic roots.

That’s it!

With the typeface as done as it needs to be, my goal is to start fleshing out the lexicon with disyllabic roots and words. And trisyllabic, I guess. So, I’ll be working on polysyllabic roots and words. If I can get a few hundred words, I can start talking about and using sentences, which means more fun syntax and grammar stuff. Right now, I can only saw a few things, like «me plo ,‹kle san ›».

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 12–20 (and 21?)

In my previous post, I covered the sixth through the eleventh monosyllabic root. In this post, I will cover the last nine.

«me»
«se»
«ke»
«tle»
«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»
«kyu»
«kul»
«num»
«sul»
«lun»
«yum»
«myu»
«hu»
«syu»

«kyu» is a particle that acts as a complementizer or relativizer. It translates into English as ‘that’ as well as ‘who’, ‘which’, etc. in the sense of ‘the one that smiled’, ‘he who smiles’, etc.

«kul» is a particle that denotes possession. It translates into English as ‘of’ in the sense of ‘he is the brother of my mother’ to mean ‘he is my mother’s brother’. I avoid comparing this to apostrophe s not because it functions differently but because it behaves differently, though that would be a fine translation.

«num» translates into English as ‘and’.

«sul» translates into English as ‘but’.

«lun» translates into English as ‘or’.

«yum» translates into English as ‘from’.

«myu» translates into English as ‘to’, ‘toward’, or ‘at’.

«hu» is a special particle that doesn’t really have a counterpart in English. The quick-and-dirty explanation is that it’s like a comma. It is used to separate words that, if not separated, might sound ambiguous together. Of course, a pause in speech can also produce the same effect.

«syu» is likewise a special particle that doesn’t really have a counterpart in English. The quick-and-dirty explanation is that it’s like «hu», but, instead of separating words, it can separate phrases to get rid of ambiguity.

«nlu» doesn’t mean anything—it’s not even on the list—, but it is the only usable particle left over. Maybe I’ll find a use for it someday!

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 6–11

In my previous post, I covered the first five monosyllabic roots. In this post, I will cover the next six.

«me»
«se»
«ke»
«tle»
«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»
«kyu»
«kul»
«num»
«sul»
«lun»
«yum»
«myu»
«hu»
«syu»

«nel» translates into English as ‘past’ as in ‘the past’. So, «nil» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the past tense.

«ten» translates into English as ‘present’ as in ‘the present’. So, «tin» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the present tense.

«lem» translates into English as ‘future’ as in ‘the future’. So, «lim» is the modifier form that, as an adverb, functions as the future tense.

These “tenses” are optional. Context clues usually make up for a lack of tense. But what tense is an un-tensed sentence in? It’s not really a tense, it’s more of a grammatical mood. Specifically, I’d say this specific mood in my conlang is the indicative, declarative, or realis mood. More or less, it expresses something true. When we say something like ‘I love you’, it doesn’t necessarily express the present tense like ‘I love you right now‘. It tends to be more of a declaration of the truth—the truth being that I love you.

«pem» translates into English as ‘what’ or ‘whom’, «pim» translates into English is ‘which’, and «pum» translates into English as ‘?’. That last one is literal. In the greyfolk language, this root indicates a question. If «pem» or «pim» isn’t used, then the particle «pum» is used. For example, let’s say «kyola» is a verb that means ‘to want’. «se kyola pem» means ‘you want what?’ or ‘what do you want?’ «se kyola ke pim» means ‘you want which one?’ or ‘which one do you want?’ «pum se kyola ke» means ‘you want it?’ or ‘do you want it?’ In the case of «pum», it can kind of be stuck anywhere in a question, but it is usually the first word. If it follows a word, it puts emphasis on that word.

«pli» translates into English as ‘yes’. «plu» is a little different—it translates into English as ‘with’. These are related concepts for a reason that I’ll probably talk about in the future, but all that matters is that they came from the same root. Also, while it’s not on the list, «plo» would translate into English as the verb ‘to be’. It’s not on the list because I didn’t focus on verbs.

«min» translates into English as ‘no’ or ‘not’. «mun» is a little different—it translates into English as ‘without’. Likewise, «mon» would mean ‘to not be’.

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: roots 1–5

In my previous post, I gave described the background and the process of coming up with the monosyllabic roots and words for the greyfolk language. There are 20 of them, but, in this post, I will go over the first five.

«me»
«se»
«ke»
«tle»
«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»
«kyu»
«kul»
«num»
«sul»
«lun»
«yum»
«myu»
«hu»
«syu»

Obviously, the “head-initial” vowel for each of these words is «e», which means that each is a noun or a pronoun. In this case, these are all pronouns.

Previously, «pe», «te», and «ke» were the first-, second-, and third-person pronoun, respectively. As I worked with Hamming distance, it was obvious that these pronouns would likely have to change.

«me» is the new singular first-person pronoun. Coincidentally, it should be very familiar. In human language, there are all sorts of me and mi first-person pronouns floating around. As the first-person pronoun, it would translate into English as both ‘I’ and ‘me’ depending whether it was the subject or object.

«se» is the new singular second-person pronoun. It would translate into English as ‘you’, which is both the subject and object.

«ke» is the new singular third-person pronoun. It would translate into English as ‘he’, ‘him’, ‘she’, ‘her’, ‘it’, or the singular form of ‘they’ or ‘them’. Gender and sex do not matter for «ke». And, again, it can be both subject or object.

«tle» is the mediopassive pronoun, which is new to my conlang. As a subject, it is a passive or impersonal construction. As an object, it basically means ‘myself’, ‘yourself’, etc. For example, let’s say «tonya» is a verb that means ‘to hurt’. «tle tonya me» means ‘I am hurt’. It can be thought of as ‘[blank] hurts me’. It’s almost an even more abstract version of «ke» in this context, but it puts the focus on the object instead of the subject. «me tonya tle» is a bit simpler, and it means ‘I hurt myself’.

«yel» is the demonstrative pronoun and «yil» is the demonstrative modifier. They both mean ‘this’, but they are used in slightly different ways. «yel» would just translate as ‘this’, but «ke yil» would translate as ‘this one’. There will probably be another word for ‘that’, but I haven’t figured that out yet.Get it?

As a last little bonus, these aren’t monosyllabic words, the plural personal pronouns will probably be «mema», «sesa», and «keka». The singular and plural correlations should be quite obvious!

Greyfolk language’s monosyllabic roots and words: the background

Before I start talking about the nouns formed from the 20 monosyllabic roots in the greyfolk language, I want to explain some background concepts as well as the process. After almost two months, I finished these suckers about a week ago, and then I gave them a bit of time to rest because I knew that I would tweak them a bit more, which I did.

Hamming distance (which I have explained previously, and which I keep wanting to call hammerspace) was the key in determining which roots were usable. As previously discussed, roots that sound too similar aren’t ideal. So, I used Hamming distance to decide what “too similar” meant. In my case, it means that there needs to be a Hamming distance of 2 for things to not sound too similar. For example, «m» is a labial nasal and «n» is a coronal nasal, but there’s only one difference: the difference between labial and coronal. So, «m» and «n» have a Hamming distance of 1. However, «t» is a coronal plosive, so it has a Hamming distance of 2 from «m» (labial nasal), which is neither coronal or plosive. Yet, «t» only has a Hamming distance of 1 from «n» because they are both coronal. Thus, «tan» and «tam» are too similar but «mam» and «mat» aren’t. Furthermore, «nat» and «tan» are different enough because, even though «n» and «t» have a Hamming distance of 1, there are two instances of that difference, so that’s a total Hamming distance of 2 between those two words. It might seem tricky, but Hamming distance is easy to visualize.

Consonants Labial Coronal Dorsal Laryngeal
Nasal m n
Plosive p t k
Fricative s
Approximant j~ɰ1
Liquid l2
Transition h
  1. written «y», can be pronounced like English ‘y’ or ‘w’ or like Spanish soft ‘g’
  2. can be pronounced like English ‘r’ or like Spanish ‘r’ or ‘rr’

If any two consonants share a column or a row, they have a Hamming distance of 1. For example, «m» and «p» share a column, and «t» and «k» share a row. If they share neither a column or row, they have a Hamming distance of 2. For example, «n» and «y» (/j~ɰ/) are in different columns and rows. There is one big exception to this rule: «l» and «y» (/j~ɰ/) only have a Hamming distance of 1 even though they are in different rows and columns because many realizations of the liquid row sound like approximants.

Of course, I could also change the vowels and not just the consonants, but it’s not that easy. That’s because the first vowel dictates word class, which I also explained in the same post that I explained Hamming space. The “head-initial” vowels indicate words as follows:

  • «e» indicates a noun (or pronoun)
  • «i» indicates a modifier (e.g., adjectives, adverbs)
  • «o» indicates a verb
  • «u» indicates a function word (e.g., conjunctions, prepositions, particles)

And «a» is filler—it doesn’t mean anything except that the word isn’t over. So, it can’t be the first vowel.

Then, add the rules for syllables to start creating words. In the greyfolk language, the syllable structure is C1(C2)V(C3).

  • C1 can be «m n p t k s y l h»
  • C2 can be «y l», but not after «y l h»
  • V can be «a e i o u»
  • C3 can be «m n l»

A word just follows all of these rules. So, a word could be «me», «him», «pyo», «klul», «teka», «syepan», etc. Words can be written normally with spaces in between them, but this system has the advantage of being able to be written as a string of text with one minor adjustment. If a word—not a syllable!—does not have a C3, add a silent «h» to the end of the word. This disambiguates certain cases like «kamenyim» which would be «kamen» and «yim» or «kame» and «nyim». Using the silent «h» means that «kamenyim» is «kamen» and «yim» while «kamehnyim» is «kameh» and «nyim».

Now, I’ll return to discussing non-conflicting sounds. There is are two more rules to add to figure out Hamming distance between syllables and words in the greyfolk language. First, the difference between nothing and any sound is a Hamming distance of 1. For example, «nim» and «nyim» have a Hamming distance of 1 between them. «nim» does not have a C2 and «nyim» does, but they are otherwise the same, so this is a Hamming distance of 1. Second, the same root is allowed with different vowels. How else would it work? For example, «nem» and «nim» are fine because «nem» is a noun and «nim» is a modifier. Even if some vowels sound similar and get confused, because head-initial vowels determine word class, context makes up for the Hamming distance of 1.

Using all of these rules, there is a maximum number of non-conflicting syllables that can be formed, especially if they share a vowel. This was the hardest part of figuring out monosyllabic words. By hardest, I mean it was challenging and frustrating, and, yes, I did cry at least once. I have a very limited phonemic inventory, so there are a lot of constraints, and I put one extra constraint on myself: no monosyllabic words with a C2 and a C3.

What did I get?

This:

«me»
«se»
«ke»
«tle»
«yel» «yil»
«nel» «nil»
«ten» «tin»
«lem» «lim»
«pem» «pim» «pum»
«pli» «plu»
«min» «mun»
«kyu»
«kul»
«num»
«sul»
«lun»
«yum»
«myu»
«hu»
«syu»

With «nlu» left over.

So, that’s 20 monosyllabic roots to create 28 words. Not too shabby.

These words will be explained in following posts. I’m planning on discussing groups of roots. The other option is to go by word class, but that would be to show off the Hamming distance between each word in each class, but the above table can be used for that same effect. See for yourself!

Belated end of September Greyfolk language report

During September, I had 13-ish strong days of work on my conlang. Even with all of that work, it feels like I have so little to show. I’m mulling over the idea of making more regular posts that talk about what I’m working on instead of just what I’ve finished.

I merged my possessive/genitive particle with my complementizer/agentive particle, but I later undid that as it led to some weird ambiguity. Confusing “dog of friend eats” and “dog that friend eats” is too weird to ignore.

Concerning Hamming distance, I had a little revelation. If «mun» and «lun» are different enough, shouldn’t «num» and «nul» be different enough? Thus, the idea that a syllable could have the same initial consonant and vowel so long as one ended in «l» and one ended in «m» was born. I haven’t really used this yet, but it’s a neat little observation.

There was a bunch of time spent trying to figure out what the words for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ should sound like.

Numerals also broke a bit.

I played around with syntax and ambiguity a ton. It seems like there isn’t an easy/simple way for me to get the effect that I want, which is fine. It’s hard to disambiguate something like ‘American history teacher’ (without adding complex rules). Is it a teacher of American history? Or is it a history teacher that’s American? We may never know.

My favorite part was relearning Lojban basics while discovering some “ancient” conlangs from the listserv era.

A whole month has gone by without me figuring out monosyllabic words. After the first two weeks, this was very frustrating, and I felt defeated. Eventually, I cried it out, shrugged my shoulders, and changed my focus so I didn’t burn myself out. It’s okay to have not figured them out! As of today, I’m dipping my toes back in, and it feels so good to go back into it with a fresh mindset. That’s the trick—I just have to remind myself of that. Sometimes, a tactical withdrawal is the best move, even if it feels like a loss—because it’s not a loss. Throwing myself at the same topic again and again as I become more frustrated and burnt out, leading to such a big loss of time is just that: a loss.

There are times to push through, of course. It’s just about finding that balance, and there’s also meta-balance, finding the balance of finding balance. Maybe pushing through will lead to frustration and a week’s worth of setback compared to dropping it to work on something else. I might have some setback on the dropped topic because I lose my place, but I get to move forward with something else. Plus, losing my place, as I said, can be refreshing. Then, the meta-balance is figuring out how much of a setback I’m taking by spending time to find a balance. Sometimes, if it’s complex or I find myself teetering back and forth a ton, it’s just best to take the safe option to let myself breathe.

If I keep going, I’ll have written more about my working philosophy than I have about my actual conlang. I hope to post again soon!

Thoughts on decapitation in GURPS

To make execution and decapitation fit the rules better, there are a couple of worthy suggestions:

Kromm says:

If “triple damage” is possible on a lucky shot, then in a set-up situation where luck doesn’t come into it, it ought to be possible as well. So a strong man (but not a musclebound thug) with ST 11 starts at swing 1d+1, adds +1 for a sword, adds +1 for a fine blade, and adds +2 more for All-Out Attack (Strong). His damage roll is 1d+5, or 6-11. To the neck, that’s 12-22. Triple it for ideal circumstances with all the time in the world, nobody fighting back, and endless practice — let’s say that a Professional Skill (Executioner) roll allows this — for 36-66. Average is 51. That’s -4xHP for most people, -3xHP for some really big ones. Three or four HT rolls are needed to survive. If the guy doesn’t die (low damage, high HT), the rare second blow will mean an average of 102, which is automatically lethal even at 17 HP.

Those who want to postulate monstrous guys with 20 HP and HT 18 will be introduced to my bigger executioner with ST 13 and a very fine blade, who will do 2d+4 and average 66 points a chop.

PK says:

My suggestion: Steal from the Forced Entry skill as well.

Professional Skill (Execution): IQ/A

This is the knowledge of how to kill another person quickly and cleanly in a controlled situation. It is of no use if you do not have complete control of your target and access to appropriate equipment (i.e., an executioner’s sword as opposed to a normal combat-oriented sword, a chopping block, etc.) Add +1 per die to the damage done to the subject if you know this skill at IQ+1, or +2 per die if you know it at IQ+2 or better. Decapitation takes at least five minutes to set up (use standard rules for reducing or taking more time) and requires a roll against this skill as well as an attack roll against the subject’s neck (almost always an All-Out Attack after Evaluating, net modifier +2). If both rolls are successful, the damage is tripled (for a net x6)!

That’s fairly generous, but frankly, for executions that don’t involve supernatural targets, I’d usually just call it death by fiat anyways. Brings the range of damage from 36-66 up to 48-78 for a skilled executioner, the average of which is enough to easily auto-kill a HT 10 man. A poor damage roll or higher HT target allows for survival rolls, which might necessitate another chop.

Another suggestion is to add decapitation to the to the dismemberment rules. A limb requires HP injury, so it follows that the neck might require HP×4 injury (or HP×2 penetrating damage), which would require 20 damage for the average human. Then, I thought about the spine hit location in GURPS Martial Arts. Of course, this has been asked before, and Kromm said:

Cervical Vertebrae (-11): Crushing, cutting, impaling, piercing, and tight-beam burning attacks from behind can target the spine in the neck. The vertebrae provide an additional DR 3. Use the wounding modifiers for the neck, but any hit for enough injury to inflict a shock penalty requires a knockdown roll, at -5 if a major wound. Injury in excess of HP cripples the spine. This causes automatic knockdown and stunning, plus all the effects of Quadriplegic (p. B150). Roll after the fight to avoid gaining this disadvantage on a lasting or permanent basis! A miss by 1 hits the neck.

So, this is getting crazy! I’ll say that decapitation can only come from targeting the cervical vertebrae (which only makes me think of my fun time with cervical radiculopathy). That -11 penalty will be hard to soak along with that DR 3. I’d be willing to say then, at that point, HP×2 injury is enough to decapitate, which is going to require 13 damage.

A true longsword (i.e., the GURPS bastard sword—they’re essentially flipped in name) wielded in one hand by a ST 10 individual can do a maximum of 7 damage, or, wielded in two hands, can do a maximum of 8 damage. A greatsword wielded by a ST 12 individual can do a maximum of 11 damage or 12 damage if it’s a falchion (rule from GURPS Low-Tech Companion 2: Weapons and Warriors). An All-Out Attack (Strong) can gives +2 damage to each of these examples, which lets the greatsword do it regularly, and, honestly, that doesn’t feel right.

By the time I had finished writing that paragraph, I started considering HP×3 injury, which would require 18 damage, and that number is much closer to the original 20 damage. It’s -2 to damage but also -6 to skill. So, I think the 20 damage to the neck (-5) works cinematically and that 18 damage to the cervical vertebrae (-11) is probably a bit more realistic. One would need ST 16 and a falchion greatsword doing an All-Out Attack (Strong) to even have a change of doing this in combat—that’s 2d+6 damage for maximum of 18 damage. Maybe Hafþór can try. Of course, if the ST 16 individual has Weapon Master and the falchion greatsword is very fine, that raises it to 2d+10 damage for an average of 17 damage, which is just shy of the 18 damage required.

Where does Professional Skill (Execution) fit into all of this? Well, let’s say that the more realistic executioner is that ST 12 individual wielding a falchion greatsword for a minimum of 7 damage, an average of 9.5 damage, and a maximum of 12 damage. Being able to triple minimum damage to 21 ensures a clean cut every time. I’d probably base it off of Power Blow a bit more, so one can either get ×2 damage or ×3 damage, depending on skill and time, which may allow for some combat use.

Anyway, thinking about damage/wounding multipliers got me in a tizzy! Multipliers don’t make much sense for logarithmic damage (which might be important if I’m using Knowing Your Own Strength, though I’m still not sure if KYOS damage is “logarithmic” or not). But changing cutting to +2 injury and impaling to +3 injury doesn’t scale either—because HP are still quadratic. Well, scaling back HP actually makes it worse in some cases unless I used some kind of system for logarithmic injury—e.g., 7 injury plus 7 injury isn’t 14 injury, it’s 10 injury (because doubling the value is a +3 under logarithmic ST). But do you have to do 10 more injury to get to 13 injury or is another 7 injury wound enough? How far down does the rabbit hole go?

And I never figured it out for sure. Of course, this will work with standard damage. It gets messy with Knowing Your Own Strength. And throw Conditional Injury in there? Then, it’s back to the drawing board.

But, if you want it to work with CI or both KYOS and CI, then I’d say that decapitation requires a Severity 3 wound, which feels like a nice little bonus for a huge -11 to hit. Normally, it takes Severity 4 for an instantly fatal wound, but Severity 3 can do it if you’re cutting at the cervical vertebrae. Sounds fair enough to me! If you can do 6 more damage to the neck, though, you’re better off not trying to soak up an additional -6 to hit.