Announcement, and the Song of My People

So I got my first SF novel copyrighted recently—don't have the certificate yet, but the Copyright Office says once I have the confirmation email, I can go right ahead.

That being done, I feel brave enough to say: my felinoid species are called zledo, singular zled. I specifically wanted a word I couldn't find in any other language, and I searched both "zled" and "злэд" and came up with nothing. Other, that is, than that it's roughly the same as the Old Church Slavonic word for "give, hand over" (which shares an Indo-European root with "yield"), an entirely appropriate association given they conceptualize government as feudal obligations.

From henceforth I'll be calling them zledo. The evangelical Heideggerians are the thoikh, and the dromaeosaurs with the gift-economy are the khàngaì.

***

Point two: if any of you reading this have the opportunity to get/play Skyrim, and haven't, here's something that oughtta convince you. If you already want to, but can't, well, this is awesome anyway.

Let me play you the song of my people.

Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin
naal ok zin los vahriin
wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan
fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!

Huzrah nu, kul do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod
Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!
Wo lost fron wah ney dov
ahrk fin reyliik do jul
voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein

Ahrk fin kel lost prodah,
Do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!
Alduin, feyn do jun,
kruziik vokun staadnau,
voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!

Nuz aan sul, fent alok,
fod fin vul dovah nok,
fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!
Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot!

Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin
naal ok zin los vahriin
wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan
fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!

Dragonborn, Dragonborn
by his honor is sworn
To keep evil forever at bay!
And the fiercest foes rout
when they hear triumph's shout,
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!

Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago
and the tale, boldly told, of the one!
Who was kin to both wyrm
and the races of man
with a power to rival the sun

And the Scrolls have foretold
of black wings in the cold,
that when brothers wage war come unfurled!
Alduin, Bane of Kings,
ancient shadow unbound,
with a hunger to swallow the world!

But a day, shall arise,
when the dark dragon's lies,
will be silenced forever and then!
Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw!

Dragonborn, Dragonborn
by his honor is sworn
To keep evil forever at bay!
And the fiercest foes rout
when they hear triumph's shout,
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!