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@rashidakazaan
//Once again, i’ve lost a lot of muse for Rashida, but!!! you guys are welcome to follow me on my two (2) other blogs that I have muse for, and both have Witcher verses!
@cottonbelles is a dumbass succubus (i have yet to actually put it in her verses page, however)
and @huntressthewizard is a wandering dryad from a destroyed forest, working with the Scoiatel and a fierce hatred of humans.
No replies today but I felt maybe I could post a headcanon.
Much like how Zebra and elephants are considered strange, almost mystical animals in the north, there are probably a lot of animals in the Northern Kingdoms that are unique and seen to be just as strange to the Eastern lands. Because some of these animals, and even monsters, are unique to the Northern Kingdoms or the western Continent, some of them do not have direct translations from Ofiri to Common. Here are some of the names Rashida has given those animals.
wild boar = small rhino.
Swan = masked goose
seal = legless weasel / water weasel
Beaver = flat-tailed rat
Squrrel = Fluffy-tail rat
Reindeer = big deer
hedgehog/urchin = spikey mouse
eel = fish snake
snail = rock slug
And some monsters
Bloedzuiger = giant leech
Leshen = Tree skull monster
Bullvore = Dead-flesh chimera
zagubionywilk:
>> ⚔️ << HIS SHARP EYES focused on her and the companion she kept along side her ——— seemingly being a TRANSLATOR for them as well. she spoke of opioids, knowing that he could use the stuff without much issue. the LUCKY side of being a witcher, especially so after going for ANOTHER round of mutations made most poisons difficult to get to him and KILL him.
its lucky up to a point ; as it slides OVER into recreational drugs — leaving him WONDERING how much he’d have to smoke or take of many things to ACTUALLY either get a high.
a soft snort left the WHITE WOLF as he nodded, acknowledging her question. ❝ right. we use it as a pain reliever. among other things. zangvebar IS a place i’m familiar with haven’t been there long term. ❞ he murmurs, fingers TAPPING ‘gainst the cup that was held within his grasp ———– the start of this CONVERSATION was driving him up the wall but after FINDING HIMSELF stuck in it with his sister from another guild he didn’t mind THAT much.
it was rare to see them these days ; especially one from so far off the BEATEN PATH. a low rumble left his chest, slightly CAUTIOUS of accepting anything but . . why not. if he only gets a sort of BUZZ it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world right ??
❝ thought wrong ————– though PASS it over. i want to try. ❞
【 ⚔️ 】— Rashida’s nose scrunched up with a pursed-lipped grin, taking the end of the hookah pipe away from her companion and held it outstretched for the white-haired one.
“((You see? Not all Witchers are stiff, stoic assholes,))” the Witcheress spoke to her companion in their foreign tongue; while the words would not be familiar to Geralt, the ‘I told you so’ tone-in-voice would probably be recognizable. It seemed her friend wasn’t paying much heed to what she said, other than a slight grunt and a wobbly nod of the head as he swatted at her shoulder with a limp wrist.
“Mmn, told him he would not outlast me.” After handing the pipe over, the foreigner nudged the merchant and spoke to him again in their native tongue, to which the merchant let out an annoyed grunt, then slumped down in his seat to lie down on his side amidst the cushions, out like a light, judging from the light snore.
“Name is Rashida. School of Manticore. I am guessing by medallion you are ah... tch-- wild dog-- what it is you call them in North.”
Send me “Can’t sleep?” to have a tired conversation with my muse in the middle of the night.
Attacked [sentence starters]
Monster-themed for the most part, but feel free to change ‘it’ pronouns to something else for a humanoid villain.
“Settle down, you’re safe now.” “Who hurt you? WHAT hurt you?” “I don’t know what it was that attacked me.” “Did you see what they looked like?” “Please, help me. I’m hurt.” “All I remember are teeth and a whole lot of pain.” “I was sure I was going to die.” “I would be dead if you hadn’t found me.” “What the hell was that thing?!” “Oh god, please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.” “I don’t want to think what would have happened if you didn’t show up.” “Do you have any idea what did this to you?” “Was it an animal? A person?” “It all happened so fast.” “Stop screaming, I’m not the one who hurt you!” “You’ll be alright, just calm down and tell me what happened.” “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” “I’m not sure it was even human.” “That looks like it hurt.” “Help is coming. Just stay calm.” “Don’t just stand there, help me!” “You’re lucky I came by when I did, or else you’d be dead.” “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” “Wh-where am I? What happened to me?” “You never know what might be prowling around out here.” “Why would anyone want to attack you?” “Hey, can you hear me? Are you alright?” “A-am I going to die?” “We have to go before it comes back!” “I don’t even know why it left me alive.” “I-I need a doctor. Please.” “Damn, it looks like you pissed off a grizzly bear.” “It was you. You did this to me!” “Do you think it’ll come back?” “I-I didn’t get a good look at it.” “It’s okay, I’ll help you. Just don’t try to move.” “How do you know so much about monsters?” “You need to learn how to protect yourself.” “Honestly, it’s a miracle you weren’t torn to shreds.” “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.” “You’re not going to die. I’ll make sure of it.” “Whatever happens to me, make sure the one who did this pays the price.”
⚔ the princess bride sentence starters ⚔
“ you mock my pain! ” “ life is pain. ” “ he’s only mostly dead. ” “ i’m on the brute squad. ” “ you are the brute squad. ” “ prepare to die. ” “ we’ll never survive. ” “ nonsense. you’re only saying that because no one ever has. ” “ who are you? ” “ get used to disappointment. ” “ you keep using that word. i do not think it means what you think it means. ” “ i’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon. ” “ that may be the first time in my life a man dared insult me. ” “ drop. your. sword. ” “ shut up!! ” “ you’ve made your decision then? ” “ i bet my life on it! ” “ truly, you have dizzying intellect. ” “ you’re just stalling now. ” “ you guessed wrong. ” “ enough of that. ” “ surrender. ” “ you mean you wish to surrender to me? very well, i accept. ” “ i hate waiting. ” “ morons. ” “ you are wonderful. ” “ you seem a decent fellow, i hate to kill you. ” “ why are you smiling? ” “ because i know something you don’t know. ” “ goodnight. good work. i’ll most likely kill you in the morning. ” “ oh, there’s something i ought to tell you. ” “ think it’ll work? ” “ it would take miracle. ” “ hear this now — i will always come for you. ” “ this is true love, you think this happens every day? ” “ death cannot stop true love. ” “ i died that day. ” “ we may as well die here. ” “ he’s dead. he can’t talk. ” “ as you wish. ” “ why didn’t you wait for me? ” “ you can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces. ” “ you killed my love. ” “ it’s possible. i kill a lot of people. ” “ yes, you’re very smart. shut up. ” “ you’ve been mostly-dead all day. ” “ inconceivable!! ” “ let me explain. ” “ your vote of confidence is overwhelming. ” “ what hideous sin have you committed lately? ” “ will you ever forgive me? ” “ there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours. ”
“stupid. definitely stupid,” was the white haired witcher’s immediate reply. “dunno what it is with people thinking it’s a smart idea to attack a witcher, but it’s quite common in these parts, regardless if you’re taveling on your own or guarding a caravan.” geralt had seen his share of stupidity while traveling across the continent and the skellige isles, witnessed his share of stupidity people were prone to, but nothing topped the bandits. they seemed to be a whole category for themselves, be it just one or in a group, but they always attacked witchers. no doubt there would be bandits on the way to novigrad, even more when they’d approach the city itself. many nobles had their residences around the city, which seemed to be what attracted bandits to the area.
rashida’s comment, while holding truth to it, had geralt snort a little, a small smile visible on pale features. “baths are a luxury, but i’ll try my best to not show up as dirty as i am now.” though even a luxury, he wasn’t one to say no to a tub of warm water. “as for how we fight.. you might end up disappointed. most say we fight like barbarians, without any sense of grace. suppose you’ll find out soon enough though.”
【 ⚔️ 】— “Suppose I shall,” she said with a nod. “Until then, I should see to the others.”
Finishing her ale and excusing herself from the table, she went to meet back with the Ofiri merchants at the table behind him to speak of tomorrow morning’s plan, a few of the foreigners started amusingly nudging her and motioning towards a plate of steamed snails they had ordered, some of the younger ones having never seen such strange cuisine before.
***
The next morning was bright as the sun was just finished rising above the horizon, the hustle of the merchants rearing the beasts of burden awake and hitching the wagons to them. They were strange creatures, obviously not native to the North. Cream or light brown fur, with droopy faces and long effeminate eyelashes; long, knob-kneed legs attached to large, heavy split hooves to match an equally long, U-shaped neck. The most distinguishable feature of them aside from their height, however, were the single humps on their back
“The Ofiri did not use horses or mules to pull their wagons or plows, as they consider this work beneath them-- Horses are sacred to Ofiri, you know.” Rashida explained, oiling and sharpening her steel scimitar for the road ahead, sitting upon a felled tree stump next to the inn. It also went without saying that an animal that was half-horse like a zorse or mule was just as revered, and a donkey or oxen would be too short to be strapped to the specifically-made wagons these beasts were being attached to.
“Instead, they use camel, usually desert animal-- useful crossing deserts and seas because they can go for many days without food or water if need be.” She explained further. “They are ah... angry bastards, though.” She used the word like she had just discovered it and its meaning. “Would recommend using sign if you wish to approach. They do not like anyone except handler-- even that is questionable.”
//this whole recent events thing got me workin 12 hour overnight shifts until it cools down so might not get to regular up-beat activity at least until the end of june?
//Manticore witchers prob cant get drunk unless they drinkin rubbing alcohol or some shit
zagubionywilk:
>> ⚔️ << ❝ WE WEREN’T made for it. yet the attempt was made. wasn’t a bad one . . makes ENOUGH sense to make sense and the point be put across in the proper manner. ❞ he murmurs, giving GLANCE to the merchant that stood beside her, PROCESSING the language that had been spoken ; not sure what it was but what he’d said did hold a mix of AMUSEMENT and truth.
he near decides that he ENJOYS being alone for the moment but he relents, moving forth to sit with his ale in the CUSHIONED booth with the witcheress and her companion. he drinks from the mug, SHRUGGING his shoulder.
❝ all DEPENDS on what we’re smoking. i don’t partake often ———– social. even THEN not all that much. ❞
【 ⚔️ 】— “Opium, traded from ah...” She glanced over at the merchant and spoke to him in Ofiri, who in turn, snapped his fingers a few times to attempt to remember, then shook his finger, and said, “Zangvebar.”
“Zangvebar, yes. This is place you are familiar with, yes?” Rashida asked, pausing in her smoking to speak. “I would be surprised if not-- Zangvebar is trade-country... most of Nordling’s spices come from there. I believe your people make pain reliever from this, ‘Milk of poppy’ is called?”
Despite claiming it was such a strong drug, the Manticore witcher did not seem all too phased by it, at least, compared to her companion, who seemed almost completely out of it after speaking. Witchers were known to have high tolerances to substances and poisons, but for the Zerrikanian it didn’t even seem to be a mild buzz for her, just enough to make her bold enough to point out a stranger’s obvious depression-drinking. Possible that the particular school she went to focused on resistance and tolerances of poisons and potions.
“It is simple invitation; consider it apology for rude introduction. You are free to go back to your drink if you wish-- you simply looked like one who could use companionship.”
gerudofury:
If it weren’t for the head dangling at the woman’s hip, Urbosa would most likely have paid her no mind. She obviously weren’t from Hyrule, yes, but she wasn’t breaking any law by being in Gerudo Town nor was she causing any commotion other than the whispers from the women around her upon seeing the disembodied head. However, Urbosa was curious by nature so there was no way she wasn’t at least going to attempt to strike up a conversation with the strange woman.
“That’s, uh…impressive.” Right to the point. “You know, it’s usually not a custom around here to wear the heads of your enemies as some sort of accessory. Though it does make quite the statement.”
【 ⚔️ 】— The smaller woman’s golden gaze shifted towards the red-haired warrior, and she knew right away that she was far away from anywhere familiar. The language was understandable, but the accent was not of anything she could recognize. Certainly not of the Aen Qadim, like she had initially thought.
“Apologies,” Rashida spoke, “I was meant to meet a taxidermist who was to pay well for the monster’s head, but it seems I have lost my way.” Or lost her mind, with how strange everything seemed to her. “You would not have happened to have seen a sorcerer in these parts, have you?”
characterdevelopmentasks:
Hi!
Some of you have already been in the first round–but to make it brief: this account is a semi-automated question generator that asks random blogs random questions about their muses!
The point is: reblog this post to get yourself added onto the list, to show me that you’re ok with receiving questions, and to get even more people aware of the process. I’ll still seek out blogs on my own, but you can do this to expedite the process!
Multimuses, in the tags, you can list the muses you want questions directed to in the following format: (muse1-muse2-muse3) and so on and so forth. If not, it just won’t be directed to anyone!
Thanks and happy developing!
(In which I realize you can’t put commas in tags.)
conjunction-of-spheres:
“Got it.” Ciri nodded, not used to taking orders but unwilling to push Rashida’s boundaries just yet. She brushed her stray hairs back from her face before settling her hand on the grip of her sword, ready to draw it should the necessity arise. “Thank you. My name is Ciri. I’ve heard legends of your feats back home.” She admitted, hoping to help put the older woman at ease. A creature that could perform illusions wasn’t unheard of back in the West but Ciri had certainly never encountered anything she could remember being called a Gauth. She would have to be at her sharpest if she was not to embarrass herself. And embarrassing herself in front of a female witcher? Ciri could barely tolerate feeling humiliated in front of men. If she was to make a good impression, she would need to be sure not to get in the other’s way. “I’m not accustomed to taking the back seat but I trust your judgement and will follow your lead.” If nothing else, Ciri owed her that sign of respect. “This Gauth.. are there many in these parts?” She had encountered many strange creatures since teleporting here but had kept her distance, using her speed to her advantage until she could be sure what she was up against. A foe that could wreck havoc with her senses was certainly not one Ciri looked forward to facing. There were many memories in her life, many traumas that such a thing could potentially exploit. Eredin had made sure of that. But perhaps that would serve in her favor; Ciri had already faced her biggest demons nearly a year back and she had emerged stronger than she had thought, no longer a broken girl running to survive. No, she had flourished. Whatever lay inside that pyramid should be afraid of her.
【 ⚔️ 】— “You have... heard of Rashida?” There was a very slight, very subtle hint of bashfulness when Ciri mentioned she had heard of her, a characteristic that would known to be unusual in a Witcher. Rashida would far from considering herself ‘famous’, unlike the fabled White Wolf of the West, but her exploits had been mentioned in passing travellers every now and then. The only major accomplishment being her gaining the upper hand of a Zahak-- a ‘Mind Flayer’, thanks to the help of a very clever Sultan’s daughter. It was a shame that other exploits of hers had died off or simply rewritten for the hero of the tale to be a male witcher.
“Taking ‘back seat’ maybe best if you are unfamiliar of what you come up against, overconfidence does nothing to help lifespan.” said Rashida, “Take this advice from me-- I lived long enough by doing that.”
She spoke again, addressing her question. “It is unknown. Most times they live underground, out of sight from sun and people, it likes to avoid bright light-- one big eye makes it ah... sensitive.” It took her a moment to remember the translated word. “It is said that silver circlet or crown can prevent attacks, but this is untrue. Best bet is to set traps ahead of time, and lure it there.”
And she began to do just that. The witcher slung the backpack off and unfastened it to retrieve an object that looked like a mass of mirror shards and tightly-packed gunpowder rigged to a rope. Once they were at the bottom of the stairwell and at the mouth of the long, but narrow tunnel of the dry, abandoned sewers, the witcher reached up to stick the rope to the ceiling and allow the trap to dangle.
“You will please help me set this up, yes.” It wasn’t a question, but still a request. “Take half of traps, set them up but do not say where-- Gauth is mind reader, would be best we not know everything.”
//A lot of westerners believe Zerrikania to be just desert, but that’s like thinking the whole middle east is just desert. Only the most western part of Zerrikania is desert, since it borders on the Korath desert; central and northern regions are grasslands, and the eastern and southern parts are jungle and forests. The majority of the population live in the grassland areas, as it is the easiest for agriculture.
simplly-lilly:
“You’re absolutely right,” Lily said amiably as she kept the ealdorman pinned under the cold fire of her gaze, deliberately ignoring the true meaning behind Rashida’s words. “Trying to cheat a witcher out of the reward they have rightfully earned by completing their end of a contract is not a good idea. Trying to cheat two witchers out of their reward is pure fucking stupidity, especially in this part of the world.”
Lily grinned suddenly and hopped up to sit unnervingly close to the ealdorman on his desk with one foot tucked under herself and the other swinging over the edge as she turned her attention to the Manticore.
“You might not have heard, but there’s an old wives tale about witchers in this part of the Northern Kingdoms, about how sometimes they’re followed on their hunts by a red-haired devil, about how if that happens one should pay the witcher what they are owed and treat them with the courtesy and respect they deserve, lest the devil become angry and return for vengeance.”
She winked at the human even as she pulled power into herself, forcing her horns to grow and burn ever so slightly. “Of course we all know they’re just silly rumours… that five men in a tiny village east of Oxenfurt who were exceptionally rude to one of the Wolves were later eviscerated by a very angry demon is pure coincidence. One of them was the village elder as well…” she patted the ealdorman’s hand and leaned close to whisper, “he screamed the loudest.”
Sitting upright again she tipped her head to the side as she studied the increasingly pale man curiously, “you didn’t receive a letter from that arrogant blonde lordling did you? Curious, I’m sure one was addressed here… maybe it got lost in the system, bureaucracy can be such a problem…”
(Mun note - referring to this and this.)
【 ⚔️ 】— Rashida’s lips thinned into a line as the red head spoke. The manticore was far from stupid, but Lilly was talking so much and so quickly that the foreigner was having trouble translating to understand what she was saying, and only picked up a few choice words. Mostly, she understood that she was refering to herself when speaking of a red devil that followed witchers.
While the witcher herself didn’t understand everything, she could understand that what Lilly was saying was scaring the man vividly. In response, the man looked behind them, and noticed a guard passing by from out the window. Rashida paled, decided that whatever plan she and the other witcher formulated wasn’t worth getting in trouble with the law with, and began to back away from the door. Her hand just touched the doorknob when the shopkeeper called for the guard, to which got his attention and gave him to hurry in.
“I am gone.” Rashida said, slipping past the armor-cladded man just as he opened the door.
“NO ONE saves us but OURSELVES. No one can and no one MAY. We ourselves MUST walk the PATH.”
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zagubionywilk:
>> ⚔️ << ❝ EVENTUALLY, ❞ he parroted, arms crossing with a quiet knock of armor clinking together and chainmail underneath shifting. still, he didn’t ask for advice or VIEWS of what he perhaps needed. he’d tried, once ——- it failed and he became tired and hard just as they voiced he shouldn’t.
he gives glance to the merchant with her, fingers COMING UP to rub at his beard before he breathes out a rough sigh ; damn. ❝ better be open than CLOSED, while the wound is SHUT to the world it doesn’t always remain for long. what then ?? ❞ his tone held a SEMBLANCE of bitterness to it but remained settled.
【 ⚔️ 】— “Then?” She contemplates the metaphor a moment, mostly reciting what he had said in her mind a bit more slowly so as to translate it, then spoke. “A wound sealed shut does not good if it is infected-- only makes one sick from the inside.”
The merchant next to her exhaled as he spoke, addressing the female in a foreign language, to which the woman chuckled in reply.
“He says witchers are bad at philosophy,” Rashida translated, abruptly receiving a back-handed pap on the arm from the merchant for ratting him out, making her chuckle again.
“Well, I am no doctor, neither of medicine nor of mind,” Rashida said again, then motioned for Geralt to sit with them in the cushioned booth. “But from one brother of Schools to another, company is in love with both misery and merriment. Maybe we make one or the other here, yes? You smoke?”
