Many years ago a game called Ugg-tect went out of print. It is my favourite game I never played, and has entered mythical status in my personal canon. In it, you are cavemen who can only provide directions for building a building by making “ugh” sounds and hitting your friends with an inflatable club.

The problem with languages in elfgames like D&D is that they are binary. So much of the fun in elfgames comes from plans failing. In reality, I can be bad at French, but in elfgames, I can’t be bad at Elvish, so it’s not a vector for fun, or memorable success. How can I be bad at Elvish in my game? Here’s an untested system.

Everyone speaks human, called common because humans always insist on centring themselves. You can immediately tell where someone is from by their accent in common. But, if you attempt to speak in someone’s native tongue, you gain a bonus to your reaction roll (usually +1). If you’re not human, you get your native language too, in a dialect (“wood elf”, say). You get language slots equal to 4 plus your Intelligence and Charisma bonuses.

Every language has four levels of fluency: Simple, daily, confident and fluent. If you speak fluently, you suffer no penalty. But for the others, you must instead mime half, one third and one quarter of the words (respectively) you attempt to say to someone in that language. For each language slot you spend on a language (including common and your native language if you have one), you move up one level: Nothing to Simple, to Daily, to Confident, to Fluent.

If your intelligence and charisma are 13, and you’re elvish, you might only speak daily Common. It then pays to seek out elvish speakers for complex communication. Or you could choose to be confident in both elvish and common and mime every fourth word in your sentences; everything has a little risk. But if you’re talking to elves, they’re inclined to react well to you.

Bonus: Related languages. Goblin and orc are like the Spanish and Portuguese: Similar enough to be understood, different enough to be dangerous. You can speak a related language at a level lower than the language you know, but they’re probably pretty strongly opinionated about the similarities between your languages: You take a penalty to reaction rolls if you’re using a related language.

Anyway, this is the kind of silly language system I want in my games. It feels a bit more like being in a cosmopolitan country where you’re the fool who can’t speak the local tongue, but you’re doing your best. I’d be generous with earning new slots, I think, to compensate for the tomfoolery getting old. But it is present enough that it makes considering language fun.

Let me know if you try it, or a variation.

Addendum: One alternative to replacing words with mime (raised by Josh McRowell as being from alternative caveman game, Poetry for Neanderthals, which is in print) involve: providing each level of language with a syllable count. At simple, you can speak only in one syllable words, and daily you can use one or two syllable words, and confident you can use up to three syllable words, and at fluent you can use any number of syllables you wish. However, if you use a word that doesn’t fit your syllable limit, make a reaction roll: You may have made a terrible mistake! This may be more practical in play, than my original idea, but retains the meat of it.

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