Fandom Horizon Zero Dawn: Forgotten World [Ambiguity & Aether]

[Ambiguity]

Horizon Zero Dawn: Forgotten World

Spoiler: Vetra

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The ache for home came and went. Like a wave caught in the violence of tempest.

Vetra missed the snow-like wonderland where her tribe roamed. Though those from the west called her people savages while the Nora were guarded against them, her people were true children of the land. Baptized by winter's cruel frost and hunting machines that others trembled at, the people of Banuk were pragmatic. Whatever one ate, one hunted. Whatever machine killed in a hunt, its spirit was venerated. It wasn't difficult how these rumors could come to be.

Though she missed the lands of the moon, she was different from the majority of her people. The lands that the Banuk people rarely ventured and stayed long called to her. A spark of discovery left her wanting as she traveled in her hunting parties or aided those at camp. There was much about the machines she wanted to know. Particularly the origin of the machine spirit. Answers from the shaman not satisfying her curiosity, she embarked on her own journey hoping to return after her questions were answered.

As much as she was different from her people, her disposition gave away her origin to strangers. Particularly those at Hunter's Gathering. While she didn't particular enjoy the company of those that eschewed their tribes, it was a good way to make shards as a hired caravan escort. Unlike the wilds back home, metal shards went a long way to survival westward. She silently thanked the machine spirits as she fell them and took what she could salvage.

Sitting near the central fire, Vetra played with her bows string. Oiling it with great care, she believed in maintained equipment paying off in a hunt. It wouldn't do for one's weapons to break during times of action.

"What's wrong, Vee? You've been doin' the same spot for a while." Marric, an outcast from the Nora tribe who was a fellow escort, took a spot next to her. He appraised her work. "Never thought you savages were good at anything but hunting and killing."

Vetra frowned. She continued to oil the string but shifting higher. "Vetra. Not Vee," she said. "An underestimated enemy leads to easy prey."

Marric held up his hands. "Easy there. No harm meant," he said. "We're gearing up for another job. Says the boss. Heading towards Carja land. Little village off Meridian."

"Indeed."

"We haven't traveled this route yet. You get the map?" He fished in his pocket and handed it over. "No scouts feeling out the path either."

Gently putting her bow on her lap, Vetra took the map and looked at it. "Observe and adapt," she said before handing back the map. She continued her work on her bow. "How soon are we leaving?"

"Midday. Right when it's nice and toasty."

Vetra nodded. "I'll see you then."

Getting to his feet, Marric yawned. "Get some last minute drink," he said before walking off.

Left again in beautiful peace, Vetra continued to work on her bow. She'd need to make some arrows before midday too. Her current stock was running low.

 

[Aether1]

Spoiler: Deliah

Orange beams stretched across the distant horizon, the sun's endless glory bathing the land in an peacefully guiding warmth; no matter where Deliah travelled, the passionate orb of divinity followed her like a silent guardian, bestowing upon her the blessing of the Sun, such was the way of the Carja. Her people, great artisans and hunters alike, an Empire in everything but name only--tribe was a mere formality--wooden huts and metal shacks could not hope to compare to the brilliant wonder that was her home. Meridian. A shining beacon of strength, an architectural marvel that inspired awe and loyalty in all its subjects.​

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Yet no beasts of flesh or metal dared near the Carja's crown, a hunter must hunt, whilst Meridian was a fine mess of stuck-up aristocrats, pampered royalty, and haggling merchants, it was no place for a hunter lest they join the Lodge--something Deliah had failed to achieve--though not for a lack of trying. With no other choice, she'd been forced from the city in search of work elsewhere, mostly as a caravan escort, sometimes as a mercenary, one time even a personal bodyguard--a Carja woman!--he must have been desperate.​

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"Del!" a voice called out beside her, jumping slightly with a turn, her eyes rested on a frown at Derron's interruption of her thoughts. "What is it, Oseram?" She questioned with an audible annoyance. "What, make you jump did I?" he questioned amusedly, recognizing her failed attempt at playing it off. "I was... thinking." She huffed, bending down to poke the kindling some more.​

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Hunter's Gathering is where she found herself, burdened no less by the Oseram mercenary Derron, the duo had fallen into several jobs together, this one was to be no different--he'd try to get friendly and she'd shut him down--they were there to kill machines and bandits, not make friends.

"Look, I get you don't like me--but I'm a good sport--and I got us a job--" Deliah opened her mouth to furiously protest, but was quickly cut off as he continued speaking hastily "--It's better than patrolling the roads for stalkers, better pay, better scenery, better everything. And it takes us to Meridian." He finished with a grin. ​

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Deliah closed her moth abruptly, lips pursing into a fine line. "...Go on." Standing a little straighter at her agreement, Derron continued. "A caravan, from here to Meridian Village. We'll be the escorts." He answered dutifully, earning a suspicious glare from the Carja woman. ​

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Narrowing her eyes, Deliah stood up from her rest to face the mercenary. "And what would I owe you for this 'kindness'?" She interrogated with a rigid stance.​

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"Look," Derron started with a tired sigh, "I didn't get you this job out of my goodwill--I don't expect you to owe me anything, but it's always good to take steps to becoming..." He wracked his brain for the appropriate words, "Business allies. Without the lodge, independent hunters need to stick together. We're not strangers, would it really hurt so much to have each others back?"​

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Deliah's features softened, and she let out a resigned--if not skeptical--sigh. "Alright Derron, business allies." She mimicked with a nod, causing the man's grin to brighten a little more genuinely. "Good to hear it! But you might want to prepare, the caravan sets off soon, midday to be precise, we'll be joining the two current escorts, a Banuk woman and a Nora outcast." ​

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Casting her eyes up in surprise, Deliah scoffed at the information. "You mean we're being accompanied by a rejected Nora savage and a savager-than-savage Banuk?" ​

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Derron shrugged, "Well... you have a way with words, but they look capable. I know you're Carja and all, but it wouldn't hurt to be a little more optimistic about our travelling companions."​

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Though she was inclined to defend herself against his words, Deliah could hardly fault his response, besides an argument wasn't what was needed right now. He had a point. She tried to keep an open-mind, truly. But it was difficult when it came to the Nora and even more the Banuk. "...Advice taken, now don't you have somewhere to be?" She dismissed casually, taking her seat on the oaken log.​

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Holding his hands up in jest, Derron turned on his feet. "Hey, I know a dismissal when I hear one--I'll catch you at midday--so don't run off on me." The Oseram teased, wondering off to make preparations of his own. Deliah's hands now strafed the side of her spear. Midday wasn't long, but she had a well-sized quiver, all she needed was more rope for the Caster. A small light sparked in her eyes, face turning upwards to the sun. She was excited to see meridian once more.​

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[Ambiguity]

Even while she concentrated on her work, Vetra remained vigilant of the world around her. Machines, animals, humans. All presented a sliver of danger. She recalled in near vivid detail of the fate of one of her own.

Moraan and she rested at the fire in the middle of their camp. They were returning from a long hunt for meat sorely needed by her tribe. Those that stood watch never sounded the alarm when bandits came from the darkness. The battle was one the shaman would sing about for days to come. However, what blood the Banuk spilled that day, their own was taken. Moraan was one of them. The hot-headed fool always wanted to boast of his abilities. The first to rush into battle and the last to leave. The fever of the hunt was his downfall. Still, it hurt to see him die by a coward's blade.

Pleased with her work, Vetra shouldered her bow and took out her Banuk hunting blade. It was a crude deadly thing. Crafted from the hardest of metals found from the ice caverns, it was shaped like the great hallowed moon when it showed its crescent edge instead of its round splendor. As always, Vetra took out her sharpening tools to ensure its sharpness. It could never be too sharp. It pleased her when it could cut through her foes like butter.

"I'm not sneaking this time." Marric reappeared as he settled on a log seat next to her. He appraised the blade. "Never enough sharp for you is there?"

Vetra smirked. "Effortless strokes. I like it that way."

Marric clicked his tongue. "Right. Creepy - even for a Banuk," he said. "Listen, we're not working alone this escort."

"I don't like strangers."

"Isn't everyone here a stranger?"

"Some more than others."

"Right," Marric said. "The merchant hired an Oseram and a Carja."

"One of the stone. One of the sun," she mused. "One dense. The other squishy."

"Right. Dense and squishy," he said. "Try not to be too savage. Sometimes it pays to be easy with the words."

Vetra shook her head. Putting away her things, Vetra shouldered her packs and stood up. She pointed up. "It's near midday. Soon the blessed moon shall be upon us," she said. "Let's go."

Marric sighed as he fell in behind her. "Crazy Banuk savage."

"Sacrilegious outcast."

Marric laughed. "Too true. Too true."

The rest of the journey to the merchant was silent and didn't take the two hunters long. The caravan was already packed up while the merchant and his workers were tending to last minute things. Never did it cease to amaze the huntress on how soft the merchant looked. Indeed, his skill with words far surpassed hers, but what would become of the obtuse man if he were alone. Wandering the wilds as what dangers lurked out there came for him.

Letting Marric do the talking, Vetra stood nearby. Her green eyes switched between the workers and what the world around them. Being on the road again excited her. Whenever she journeyed, it was always a chance for her to discover more about the machine and the machine spirit.

"Hey." The worker passing by stopped. His eyes widened like a frightened rabbit's. "When are we leaving."

"S-soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon. Maybe now, maybe later."

Vetra sighed and waved him off. For now, she'd wait. Perhaps she'd be able to look on the other two escorts that would be joining this caravan. See if she was right in them being dense and squishy.

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[Aether1]

Deliah's fingers brushed along the shaft of her glistening silver spear, the shaft vibrant under the Sun's beam. Crafted expertly from the parts of fallen machines, obvious from the curved spearhead, a sawtooth's tooth, as sharp as it was sturdy. Both legs planted, she threw the weapon out in a well-practiced thrust, back arched and lurching forward with precision. It was a fearsome weapon, but as much sentimental as it was deadly. The sawtooth--who now aided her in many hunts--was her first machine kill, not counting watchers and grazers. The looming beast of twisted metal fought with more fury than she could feasibly have prepared for.

Whilst triumphant, she was not left unscarred. Enormous scars stretched across her abdomen, shaped in the mark of the machine's elongated claws. Most Carja huntresses preferred to flaunt their stomachs. Yet Deliah was far too self-conscious of her wounds to try, it may have been ugly; but who would take a huntress, who could barely best a sawtooth, seriously?

"Hey, you're still here. I'm thrilled!" Derron's voice resounded from behind. Deliah turned in a swift motion, arms crossed with a pointed glare to the Oseram warrior.

"Before you plant your spear inside me, it's midday. I saw you practicing, maybe you'd lost track of time--I don't know, but duty calls, right?" Derron said reassuringly, Deliah raised an eyebrow slightly; bouncing her eyes from her spear to Derron.

"Before I plant my spear inside you?" She questioned with humour, lips quirking up into an amused smirk causing the Oseram male to shift uncomfortably.

"That's... not what I meant." The Oseram ushered meekly with a light shrug, which only caused the Carja huntress's eyes to brighten even more.

"Of course not." She replied with a triumphantly insincere smirk.

"Can we... go? The merchant is gathering the workers, if we're not there when they depart we lose the job." Derron informed with a tactful subject change, his position arching to the assortment of people fawning over a large wagon at the other side of Hunter's gathering.

"Lead the way." She answered with a shrug, heaving a duffel bag of useful gear over her shoulder, hanging in tandem with her well-fashioned quiver, home to a assortment of barbed arrows, which accompanied the mastercrafted bow. A heirloom handed down from generations of her family, how so many of her ancestors remained alive long enough to pass the bow down was astonishing. She hoped not to disappoint.

"Joking aside, you handle that spear well, better than most I've seen. How'd you get it?" Derron questioned casually as they made pace towards the merchant.

"I made it myself, from watchers mostly--and a sawtooth." Deliah replied in earnest, her shoulders raising into a non-committed shrug.

"You made it?" Derron asked in brief shock, "I thought you were a Carja huntress, but you'd fit in well with my tribe. The Oseram pride ourselves on tinkering and invention."

Deliah shrugged, her eyes scanning the swamp of people the duo had entered, echoes of quick barking orders and the collapse of boxes were abundant. Deliah--alongside her business partner--moved to approach the merchant, until her eyes glowered momentarily at a distant pair one talking with the rounded trader, the other standing just off to the side. With a hand outstretched she clasped the Oseram's arm, nodding suspiciously to where her eyes roamed.

"That's them, the savages." Deliah grumbled disapprovingly, she intended to be optimistic but it was nigh impossible when their travelling companions were decorated in glorified rags.

"What happened to keeping an open mind?" The Oseram questioned with part amusement, part irritation.

Deliah shook her head furiously, "Look at them, how trustworthy can they be? A Banuk who'd rather dance under the moon with ravager than make merry with us, and a Nora Outcast. He isn't even trusted by his own people, yet you'd trust him on this expedition? Who knows what he did--and they're together." She whispered urgently, hand still clasped around the man's arm to disallow movement away.

Derron sighed, but the way he gazed at the two meant he was at least partially seeing her point. "What exactly are you saying then?"

"Are they here to escort the caravan, or to rob it?" Deliah fired back immediately, releasing his arm and dipping her stance to a single side, eyes narrowed onto the hunter and huntress.

Derron straightened slightly, his own gaze doing a quick scan of the environment before he settled on a deep influx of air. "We'll keep our eyes on them, closely. But for all we know, they're honest escorts doing their job..." Derron hesitated briefly, his next words clearly a conflict. "...But it's better to be safe than sorry, I'll watch your back, if you watch mine. If it comes to it, we want to be the ones to make the first move."

With a shared nod with Deliah, Derron's footfall patted gently against the thin snow covered ground, since he got her the job, it fell on him to interact with the cheery-looking merchant who was engaged in light conversation with the Nora Outcast. Deliah yawned, forcing out a much-needed stretch before she moved to the side with gentle but casual stealth, nonchalantly leaning against a block of stone near the Banuk, pretending she hadn't noticed the other woman.​

 

[Ambiguity]

Vetra saw two others approach. Her body readied itself, but she kept her mannerisms tame. In theory, Hunter's Gathering was neutral ground. Hunters coming in knew that to incite violence was to incite violence of others onto them. It was an implicit understanding. There weren't peacekeepers to make sure nonviolence was adhered to. That certainly didn't stop exploitation and theft though. Vetra learned early on the necessary common sense to spot a thief or a charlatan.

The woman took up post on a nearby rock. Though she didn't acknowledge Vetra, the woman was loud. Lots of the other hunters were loud. Given that the woman's partner joined Marric in talking to the merchant, she assumed this was either the Carja or Oseram. Though she'd bet more so on Carja from the clothes and skin.

Torn between whether or not she should be pleasant, Vetra was about to indulge the silence between the two. She had no obligation to make friendly with those around here. When it was necessary, she was polite, but never on a whim. Marric did say it paid to be nice with words though. Unlike a common interaction between two strangers, the man and woman were very much strangers to her. She'd seen them around Hunter's Gathering a handful of times but never did she interact with them. But these were the souls that'd be watching her back on this mission.

She turned to the woman leaning on the rocks. "Sun marked but clothed. You may be Carja, but you don't dress like Carja," she said. Vetra tried to think of something nice to say. But what would the children of the Sun consider nice? Vetra smiled. "But you don't seem squishy like your people. Maybe a little squishy, but not too squishy."

Quickly doing away with the smile, her eyes never left the woman. "I've been told being civil pays off. More so here than in the lands of the Moon," she said with some amusement. "Marric," she pointed over his way where the woman's partner was, "Said we have two more joining our escort. It's not common for the merchant to ask for escorts other than us. Perhaps there's more danger this time. Many dangers abound on the trails. Will you be one?"

 

[Aether1]

Deliah's ears perked up as the Banuk spoke, it took more effort than she'd expected to force her feaures to remain neutrally straight, even now she could feel the pulling weight of a scowl, whether the mountain dweller meant to offend or not, was irrelivent. but Deliah her faith on common savage ignorance rather than any direct ill-meaning. The notion that the Carja were even remotely less-able than the Banuk was sacrilegious of the highest calibre.

"The Carja prefer to kill machines, not kneeling to them." Deliah shot back with a little more force than inteded. Her body now angling off the rock to face her travelling companion. Her eyes settled down onto an irritated frown, shifting with heated-blood, the Carja shook her head with an audible scoff, leaning back against the rockface. "Ironic, coming from a savage." the huntress judged harshly.

"We make way for Meridian Village, Oseram are a-plenty in the land of the Sun," She noted factually, eyes lingering on Derron--who seemed to be studiously analysing the outcast Marric--which was good. A small fire lit in Deliah's eyes, turning to the woman with a burning gaze. Aggression spurred on by ingrown Carja racism. "But a Nora outcast and a Banuk barbarian?" She asked rhetorically with a devilish smirk. "Any Carja citizen would agree, ideal bandits and robbers. Curious thing that, you're a long way from home, savage."​

 

[Ambiguity]

Hostility dripped like honey from the Carja's words. Vetra wasn't surprised. She'd grown a thick skin for scathing comments about how she was a savage or how some people spoke with an arrogant tone for the very same reason. Normally it would matter little, but this scenario was different. She would be working with this Carja. If they couldn't get along, then when the dogs of war were let loose, she'd be fighting a two front war. One where an ally was an enemy while she fought the obvious foe.

Vetra didn't dignify the Carja with acts of aggression. "It seems civility is limited in these lands, for I have seen none from the children of the Sun," she said. Vetra pointed towards the sky. "While I may be far from my tribe, the loving lands of white snow and Moon's grace, the Sun and the Moon share the same sky. We see the Sun in our lands as you see the Moon when darkness falls. No Carja. I've never left home."

Used to the snide remarks of her being a robber or a bandit, Vetra knew she was a hunter through honest means. No less honest than those that scoured the lands for their livelihood. "I've nothing to prove, daughter of the Sun," Vetra finally said. She felt her blood boil, but she'd promised to stay pleasant. Vetra didn't like going back on her word. "I've but ask that we find mutual ground for the job we share. Acquaintances until we part ways."