Asullus Anguli I ... aka Asullus’ Corner
Updated: Dec 16, 2022
Well, now, Lads an’ Lasses, ’tis Asullus here takin’ yer questions per the
scrolls ye ha’ sent an’, hopefully, returnin’ yer inquiries in a way satisfyin’ to yerselves.
But afore we goes any further, ’tis mete I gives much deserved credit to me goodly assistant, here, the always trustworthy an’ diligent Spritae, Morphia.
Now, I be fully aware that some o’ ye out there may be wont to disparage the poor creature on account o’ her proclivities toward takin’ a doze, e’ery now an’ again. But, be advised as to refrain from bein’ so hard on me little purple darlin.’ ’Tis her misfortune, no’ her fault, ye see. So, be sparin’ o’ any harsh words ye ha’ fer the well-meanin’ an’ e’er-strivin’ lass, lest ye cause there to be ire raised again’ ye by some o’ the most powerful folks in this kingdom, no’ to mention all o’ muledom, entire.
At this point, ye may be askin’ yerselves why is it old Asullus be in need o’ a scribe so as to reduce his thorny an’ hoary thoughts to scratches and scribbles on some dead animals’ skins?
Well, there be a good an’ valid reason, as all turns out—as, I expects you know, all o’ muledom shares the same circumstance—there be nary an opposable thumb amongst ourselves. So, the sweet, purple lass here ha’ agreed to scribe down me words on the parchment an’ the blessed mistress here in the North Tower—Sorceress Marsia—ha’ agreed to pass on me written-down thoughts to the nearby University o’ Topian fer dispersal so as to provide the widest possible audience fer me rantin’s an’ ravin’s, don’ ye know.
Now, all that said, me first thought here is to address one o’ the more common complaints these old ears hear from one an’ another o’ ye; an’ that is how to pronounce the names o’ all those lads an’ lasses or bold an’ brass we ha’ met on our journey o’er time?
’Tis me suspicion, that many o’ ye may already be knowin’ how to say such names. But I realizes that I ha’ knowledge o’ this material from the beginnin’ so to speak, though I know no’ all those out an’ aboot do ha’ this advantage. So, here I ha’ it put down fer ye who may be findin’ their expertise an’ confidence lackin’ to some degree or the other.
Bein’ humble, yet proud o’ spirit all in the same breath, ’tis me idea to start wi’ meself. An’ why no’, eh? So, here is how ye call me out, proper-like—uh-SULL-us. Now, if ye ha’ some trouble wi’ the word, then just go back an’ read it again, those o’ ye who’re lucky enou’ to be literate from the get-go, that is. Fer those no’ yet so blessed, high yeselves off to places o’ schoolin’, do the work an’ a great prize awaits ye at the end o’ it, as our always troublesome, red-headed, thief ha’ said in me company on many occasions.
Now, I see that darlin’ Morphia is laughin’ so hard as to splot the pen an’ tear the parchment. But, it’s true. I really do get a lot o’ questions aboot me name. So, now ye know, once an’ fer always.
Above, I ha’ mentioned me Mistress so I might as well share wi’ ye the way to say her name right enou’ withou’ embarassin’ yerselves or irritatin’ her Lord—an unwise thing to do in any case as several ha’ come to learn, to their ongoin’ sorrows. So, the tall an’ beautiful Lady, Marsia, do ha’ her name spoken most correctly as—mar-SIGH-uh. Or, fer those who may be more likely to call the Southlands yer home—mar-SIGH-yuh, as I ha’ heard it said.
To tell ye truly, methinks it makes no difference to the Mistress, herself, as to which way ’tis announced. She’s as kind an’ gentle soul as there be in all the lands, she is, an’ would take no offense as to the manner o’ her address. Her gent, on the other hand, who ye may ha’ had word o’, would tend to no’ mind the syllables either, but be more inclined to note the degree o’ respect shown in their soundin’ out. My Lord is tolerant o’ most things, as may be, save only how others treat an’ honor his Missus an’ the Family.
Movin’ on, now, in our speakin’ catalogue, I’ll next be mentionin’ my Lady’s closest friend, Sorceress Nannsi, formerly o’ Graecolia an’ now residin’ all these years to the east, in Fornia, the Imperial capital. It was followin’ the Great War, if memory serves, that she moved there in conjunction wi’ her scholarly consort, Sorcerer Anders—a more thoughtily one ye’re ne’er unlikely to meet. An’ no’ only do that pair reside there, but they ha’, in addition, a prodigious couple that do accompany them faithfully, Sorceress Lillia and Sorcerer Longia, as well. I might mention that these last may, by chance, be more likely to be familiar to some o’ ye faithful readers as the former Collegium Housemistress, Liliput and former hidden hallway hant, Brother Longbone. But how that all worked out is a story long in its tellin’ an’ better saved fer another occasion.
So, back to the Sorceress o’ Fornia. Now as some o’ ye may be aware, ’tis a school an’ orphanage combined that she an’ her bestus did build once they got to where they was goin’ an’ the fame o’ that institution ha’ since been growin’ an’ growin’ — especially in the presence o’ Imperial favor as has so graciously an’ richly been bestowed upon it. An’ no’ only that but…
Excuse me, ye Gentle Readers, me little Spritae ha’ cause to remind me to no’ go off hay-gatherin’ an’ pay attention to the subject at hand. Sorry it is, I be.
Fair enou’. So, Nannsi it is an’ the way to say it, human-like, is—nann-SEE. Do it that way an’ ye’ll ne’er be troubled by embarrassment at public occasions where the name might come up an’ ye be expected to use it all proper-like.
The next o’ me Mistress’ closest friends-o’-the-Heart, is Sorceress Sonnia—her that did high off to Frantilla wi’ that rascally redheaded street thief turned politician (all right, now, who is it ‘mongst yerselves that feels they can easily tell the difference between the two callin’s, eh?), Sorcerer Rolland, now sportin’ the Consul’s robes, to the wonder-ment o’ all.
She, he an’ their darlin’ little auburn-haired—must run in the family—Jadelline, are in the thick o’ it in the Frantillian capital an’ as I always says, to the wee one ‘don’ count yer chickens afore they gathers no moss.’
Anyway, ’tis her Momma I be speakin’ o’ at this time, the Sorcercess Sonnia. An’ fer those o’ ye who hold such knowledge well an’ dear, her name best be said as—sew-NIGH-uh; or, if ye prefers it—so-NYE-uh. Now this ‘un I’d be a little more particular aboot, gi’en her well-known feelin’s concernin’ correctin’ protocols n’ such. Would no’ care to offend this fair Lady wi’ some such gaffe due to a twisted tongue were I standin’ there in yer sandals.
Well, now, here be a start to these things an’ I could share more at this time but I see our little scribe here ha’ fallen asleep once again. Ah, well, she’s a sweet thing, she is, e’en if she be a little flighty.
Well, then, ha’ ye other questions fer me poor brain to ponder, feel free to send yer scrolls on along to the Tower, an’ I’ll try to answer to ‘em as best as can be—howe’er, please do no’ be sendin’ yer fruit o’ the red type, as some o’ ye thoughtful ones ha’ already tried, as by the time o’ the month such treasures arrive here at the Tower, they’ve either already been pilched by some or another hungry student at the University mail office, or they’ve become all spotted an’ brown by whate’er it is as troubles agin’ fruit. But I do appreciates the thought, just no’ the sendin’ o’ the victual itself.
The Great North Tower, Northfast