New Language Options for Your Campaign!

Edit: I'm blown away by the passion, insight, and gold this post engendered! As my thanks to you
lovely linguists, I've updated the list with a few new languages (inspired by your comments).
Tired of languages being little more than a social barrier? Sick of everyone speaking Elvish the same
way they speak Common? Fatigued by never remembering the difference between Abyssal and
Infernal? Look no further! Feel free to steal these handy prompts to make your fantasy languages as
fantastic as the rest of your world.
Please leave your own ideas for how to make linguistics a bit more magical. I need ideas to steal!
Elvish
Spoken: The long lives of elves are reflected in their conversations. When an elf speaks, it's only after
careful deliberation. As such, if you say something to an elf, don't be surprised when they simply walk
away, only to offer their response later that hour. Or day. Or month.
Written: Similarly, all elven writing consists of meticulously crafted poetry. Even their most mundane
texts are artistry. An expert author can be known by their most beautiful, elegant, inspiring trade
contracts.
Dwarvish
Spoken: A dwarf speaks normally enough while underground. Things get interesting on the surface,
without the natural acoustics of dwarves' caves and longhalls. Because their voices don't travel nearly
as far, dwarves feel the need to bellow loudly, just so others can properly hear them.
Written: There's a lot to be said about Dwarven runes. One fun fact: a single written sentence can
actually contain a full page of text. Dwarves are such fine masons that they actually carve
runes into their runes. Dwarves will often carve simple, direct messages on the "exterior" words, while
filling the "interior" words with riddles, obscure references, and innuendos that complicate the
"exterior" phrase.
Gnomish
Spoken: Gnomes are intelligent enough to speak and listen at the same time, so Gnomish
conversations involve all parties speaking and responding simultaneously. Outsiders may assume the
Gnomes are arguing or debating, when in fact, they're simply talking in the most efficient manner
possible.
Written: Gnomish texts are wonderfully compound. A gnome will oftentimes start a sentence, lose
track of it, start a new sentence, finish it, become inspired for a third sentence, get bored, get lunch,
cross out the first sentence, spill some jam on the second sentence, finish the third sentence out of
spite, and only then rewrite the first sentence entirely. One trained in Gnomish can decipher these
ideas easily enough, but to an outsider, it can seem like the ramblings of a madman.
Orcish
Spoken: You know how inuits have 100 words for snow? That's how the Orcish vocabulary treats
battles. After all, no two battles are alike. Did you ever hear the story of Many-Fists-One-Sword-
Then-Not-So-Many-Fists? Or how about Four-Eyes-Enter-One-Eye-Leaves?
Written: Orcs get impatient if they have to read for too long. Luckily, Orcish authors keep their
audience entertained by drawing the action out on the page, accompanied by sparse bits of text. The
works of Shake Spear (the greatest Orc author of all time) resemble newspaper comic strips.
Halfling
Spoken: Halflings finish every sentence with an upwards-inflection, as if they were asking a question?
This has led to the widespread belief that Halflings are curious, riddling creatures? In truth, only some
of them like riddles? It's kind of an annoying stereotype?
Written: Most Halflings are nimble enough to write with their toes, but after centuries of mockery,
they keep this secret hidden from outsiders. Time has made this into a point of solemn pride among
Halflings. Some Halfling feet are so distinctly smelly that they don't even leave a signature, relying
purely on nasal reputation. Meanwhile, scholars wonder why Halfling books all smell like fecund
cheese.
Infernal
Spoken: The language of lawful devils is magical in nature. Being a legalistic sort, devils can speak
with two voices simultaneously, saying different things with each. They use this skill to distract their
prey, making promises with one voice while twisting them with the other. Outsiders who learn this
language can comfortably parse each voice, but they still have difficulty learning the skill of
doublespeak.
Written: Devils write their contracts in spirals, most commonly on metal discs. The outermost words
are large, intelligible, and forthright. As the text swirls, it becomes harder and harder to comprehend.
The size of one's disc is a matter of rank among the devils. Imps have tiny discs the size of coins,
larger devils have plate-sized discs, and some grand discs can be used as shields. Some say that the
sun is Asmodeus' disc, which he wrote in order to gain dominion of the Nine Hells.
Abyssal
Spoken: The language of chaotic demons is magically obtuse. When untrained ears hear this language,
they hear an unintelligible form of their own common tongue. However, if one is trained in this
speech, they know that "Can fruit gargling free damnation alive?" actually means "Where is the
bathroom?"
Written: If demons take the time to write, they usually only do it for their own sake. Abyssal scripts
are written in a challenging cryptic only known to the individual demon. Those who can decipher such
a text find information that the demon very much intended to keep private.
Undercommon
Spoken: Creatures of the Underdark tread lightly, never knowing which shadow may spell their doom.
Their language is shaped by this caution. Undercommon is only ever spoken as a whisper. There is
only one word that breaks this rule: "HELP." Denizens fill the darkness with screeching cries for aid.
But travelers should beware: not all cries for help come from the helpless.
Written: Undercommon is mostly written on stalagmites. When given the time, creatures will write
different messages on each side of a stalagmite. Each message will hold contradictory information.
Only one message tells the truth. This method of writing serves as a hidden signpost for friends and
allies: in case you are lost in the Underdark, just follow the truth to find safety.
Sylvan
Spoken: The Sylvan language is always sung. This has many effects, not the least of which is
establishing the pecking order of Fey in any conversation. The Fey with the most beautiful voice is
always the most important creature in the conversation, able to silence others with a hum. Even more
powerful Fey respect the entrancing beauty of a word well-sung. To speak Sylvan without singing it is
a severe crime. After all, murdering words is no better than murdering people.
Written: Writing Sylvan on a piece of paper is a dangerous hazard. That paper will be reminded of its
arboreal roots, causing the page to slowly change with the seasons. It will rot in Autumn and be dust
by Winter. Due to this, Sylvan is necessarily relegated to being written on trees and stones.
Draconic
Spoken: Draconic is a physically taxing language, requiring immense amounts of breath support to
convey each rumbling word. You can tell a native speaker from a book-learned one by how winded
they are at the end of each interaction.
Written: Dragons first developed writing by scratching their claws against stone, ice, and wood. As
such, Draconic is most aptly written with one's fingers and some ink. Smooth-fingered folk can
achieve this effect with a specially-crafted pen. In lieu of tattoos, scaly individuals often scratch
draconic phrases into their flesh. Common etchings include names of ex-lovers, the word "Mom" on
the bicep, or "Love" etched on one fist and "Hate" on the other.
Goblin
Spoken: Goblin utilizes two separate vocabularies: High and Low Goblin. High Goblin is reserved for
the tallest goblin in a conversation; low is for everyone else. Of course, goblins will always find a
reason to consider themselves to be tallest, leading to near-constant arguing. Only the wisest goblins
ever practice their Low.
Written: The few Goblin histories that exist are extremely frustrating to scholars. They are as
impatient and self-centered as their authors. An example, from the notorious Bit: "Rup kicked the snot
out of me, so I put my snot in his ear, one thing led to another, and thus began the 3rd Chaos War with
the elves. Rup died because his ears were full of snot and he couldn't hear THEIR daggers coming.
My dagger is as clean as the day my mom threw it at me."
Giant (inspired by u/fengchu)
Spoken: Giants' voices are so loud and low that they can easily cause deafness in humans by
screaming into their ears. This has become a sport among young giants, who think it's hilarious to
have all of these deaf, bumbling humans running around. Clever trackers know they're closing in on a
giant encampment when the number of deaf victims increases.
Written: Giants dictate the importance of their words by how physically large they are. Gossip could
fit on a boulder, genealogies could fill a cave, and holy scriptures deserve nothing less than a mile-
long stretch of cliff face. This has led to the myth that mountains and seas are part of the All-Father's
final message, and once deciphered, it will herald the golden age of giants. Young giants consider it an
honor to travel the land and map His all-important message.
Celestial (inspired by u/vaqari)
Spoken: Any attempt to tell a lie or half-truth in Celestial is thwarted, as the speaker's voice is
suddenly replaced with a different, godly voice which gives the full, unfiltered truth. It's said that this
is the voice of Honesty, who invented Celestial as a way to communicate with her lover, Doubt. No
romantic gesture is considered greater than that of a partner expressing their feelings in Celestial.
Written: Celestial cannot be written in ink. Rather, books written in Celestial are magically crafted by
the prayers of monks, clerics, or angels. When a group of holy folk pray with intention, the subject of
the book is molded by the simplest, wisest, and most beautiful prose from each person's mind.
Celestial books are prized for their objectivity and pure intent. Destroying a Celestial book will simply
cause the text to return to Ioun's library. Celestial tomes can only truly be destroyed if a single creature
rewrites the entire book 9 times, backwards, in Infernal.
Primordial (inspired by u/Andrenator)
Spoken: The Primordial dialects simply cannot be spoken with a mouth. Ignan is formed around the
sounds of wisping fire, terran around rumbling earth, and so on. Wizards find it easy enough to speak
Primordial (through Minor Illusion and other spells). However, genies and elementals are more
impressed when creatures communicate non-magically. After all, bartering with an efreeti by
delicately blowing on a torch is both challenging and wildly entertaining.
Written: Elementals are capable of leaving messages within the elements. If a breeze suddenly picks
up in a strange manner, or fire flickers against the wind, travelers should suspect that Primordial
beings came this way and left a message. The untrained rightly see such phenomena as magical, but
the studied can find wisdom and warnings in these signs.
Deep Speech (inspired by u/EatMoarWaffles)
Spoken: Native speakers of Deep Speech are born without vocal cords. Instead, they manipulate a sac
of liquid in their gullet to bubble in a specific tonal and rhythmic variance mimicking language.
Speaking this way is incredibly painful, so most just prefer to use telepathy. If someone uses Deep
Speech to communicate with you, they either think you're stupid or dangerous. To those outsiders
hoping to communicate in kind, a bowl of water and some very uncomfortable gargling should suffice.
Written: Denizens of the deep either dream of stars or live amongst them. Such creatures keep a
mock-observatory, on which they inscribe the stars as they remember them. Each star is understood to
represent a different phonetic gurgle. Deep Speakers draw constellations in their books to represent
words. By finding a creature's observatory or consulting an astronomer, outsiders are able to recreate a
book's message.