Category: Place

#Lore24 – Entry #229 – Helica Month #17 – Water and Earth, Light and Dark

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

I neglected my notes in the following weeks and months, for our journey back to the Highlands and beyond was at once triumphant and somber, for while we had defeated one evil and were hailed as heroes, a greater foe loomed ever-present.  The Transgressor had remained active while we had been diverted, attacking several villages along the coast, never in a predictable fashion, but driving deeper into the mainland each time.  Several summoners had already faced it and lost their lives, not yet strong enough to see the task done.

So it was that we and the Sylvanae party made haste through the Kinarrora Highlands, treading where I was at least mostly familiar, heading first to the temple of the earth Amaranth Kayalik, and upon its successful taming, to the temple of Glacia, the water Amaranth.  I had perhaps wanted to broach the possibility of seeking out Saghirah with Esekia, but by this time, he had been quite taken with Tephysea, enthralled I would daresay.  She seemed to reciprocate his feelings, and there was talk amongst those whom we met along the way that the pair of lovers would certainly overcome the Transgressor and bring the next Tranquility.  I didn’t see the love, personally, only the manipulations of one of the Sylvanae nobility, but my concerns were not headed.  Zubayr was mostly indifferent, more concerned with seeing the Crusade successfully completed, and our Stalker was ever the loyal guardian, hardly willing to oppose its master. 

So, we would not seek Saghirah, but instead would continue to the holy city of Tyraguard, the seat of the Phyresian faith, and to the most powerful of the Amaranths, the final taming before the journey would take us to the ruins of Grad Artanais, the great winged serpent, Nur-Atahk.  After a long vigil in the chambers of the Amaranth, Esekia was ultimately successful in his taming, as was the ever-confident Tephysea.  Thusly armed with the power of the Amaranths, we would make our final journey over the ruin-spotted expanse of the Serene Steppes toward the ruins of Grad Artanais, where the final battle would be held at the place where the Transgressor was first born unto Helica, the only place it could be once again defeated, for that is where the foulness, the sins of the people of Helica are gathered to birth the monster.

When I phrase it like that…I suppose I was rather foolhardy to venture into that place by myself, even during the last Tranquility.  I am also wondering as to why I could not sense the growing vileness of the Transgressor in the city then, for surely there must have been some indication that something so massive was growing nearby. 

I will ponder this as we begin our ascent of the sacred mountain Temismere on the morrow, before our descent into Grad Artanais. 

#Lore24 – Entry #228 – Helica Month #16 – Raiders from the Untamed Lands

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Our return to San Granalle was a somber one.  Though the city had begun to heal, the devastation was still as an open wound.  There was but a single dock that had been rebuilt, much of the remaining populace was living in tents and poorly constructed hovels, and the sense of loss was overwhelming.  Even with the aid of the Church and its Beasts, recovery was slow.  Worse, there was a new threat to the town, one that perhaps sickened me more than that of the Transgressor and its spawn:  bandit raiders from the Untamed Lands, who had smelled blood, and were now emboldened to sweep across the vulnerable lands once held quite secure and guarded by San Granalle.

We did not tarry long in San Granalle, for the sight of the suffering people spurred us forward on our Crusade against the Transgressor.  As we headed north into the Kinarrora Highlands, our group would be a formidable one, as, at the behest of Esekia, we had joined forces with Tephysea and her retinue, and would remain thusly tied through the next long leg of our journey.  We would make a detour before we would reach the next Amaranth’s temple, though, for a fire was burning in Esekia’s heart, and we would see these bandits dealt with quite harshly in the name of Phyresis.  Tephysea seemed more amused by this than sympathetic to the plight of the weakened survivors but decided that she and her people would assist our endeavor.

We joined with the forces mustered by the Church of Phyresis on the far western edge of the Highlands, arriving to the sounds of battle as mounted forces clashed, the shear numbers of the raiders, bolstered by the might of many monstrous tribes, orcs, kobolds, goblins, and gnolls, threatening to overwhelm the defenders rapidly.  Neither side expected the coming of two Amaranths upon the field of battle, the combined might of Cinza and Makani tearing through the horde’s ranks without mercy.  With the aid of Zubayr, myself, and the Sylvanae warriors and mages of Tephysea’s retinue, our summoners were quite safe.  The horde was forced to retreat from the front, giving us time to recover and aid our allies.

Seeing our intervention as a sign from the One True God, the bloodied forces of Phyresis had their morale bolstered, and so, after a few days to recover and refortify the borderland, we drove into the Untamed Lands like a dagger into the heart of the raiders.  Though our journey was filled with dangers:  from the sheer numbers of monstrous foes to powerful tribal shamans and even former members of the Order of the Tamers, and not the least of which were several attempts to assassinate our summoners, requiring us guardians to be ever vigilant, we would prove victorious in the end. 

Along the way, we would see signs of the devastation of the Transgressor, either from past battles, or more recently destroyed settlements.  I believe I may have been the only one amongst the Phyresian forces that held any sympathy for our enemies, for they were driven by desperation, the need to flee the devastation of the Wicked One just as much as any other peoples.  Did that give them the right to invade a broken land and ravage its people?  No, certainly not, for they could have attempted to ally with us.  Perhaps they had tried; I am not privy to the details of prior negotiations, if there were any, but Phyresis has long held that the monstrous races were inferior to humanity and Sylvanae. 

Once we finally claimed the head of the leader who had spurned the raiders ever forward, our task was mostly done.  Our ranks had continued to be bolstered by the Church as we drove deeper into the Untamed Lands, and though occupation was not on the table, the Church would take much in its wake.  All monstrous races who were found were killed outright, and the humans who were captured or surrendered would be reeducated as Beasts to serve the One True God.  Many treasures would be taken, and though I took little for myself beyond books and scrolls that I had found intact, I did claim a runic blade from one of the commanders we had faced.

It had been a long and bloody affair, taking several months, but with it done, we could at last return to the Crusade we had originally set out upon, to attain the remaining Amaranths and ultimately to face the Transgressor.  It will be some time before I can come to terms with the horrors of this campaign, and what its long-term implications may be.  I will have many sleepless nights to come, I am certain.

#Lore24 – Entry #226 – Helica Month #14 – Separating the Strong from the Weak

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

When it comes to summoners and their Crusades, I was told by Esekia upon our arrival on the island of Vallalava that Cinza had a way of separating the weak from the strong.  Like the element of fire with which he is associated, the Amaranth is very temperamental and hard to tame.  Sometimes his displeasure with a summoner’s attempts to tame him even translates to the volcano the island is known for, which will belch smoke and send tremors through the surrounding jungle and village.  Those summoners who are not secure in their mastery of the art will often find their Crusades ending upon the slopes of Mount Vallalava within the Amaranth’s temple.  Though there are officially no limits to the number of attempts a summoner may make to tame the Amaranth, those who must try twice are looked down upon as weak in faith, and those who must try a third time are regarded as failures even if they succeed, finding their journeys ahead much more difficult as word spreads of their weakness of spirit.

Thus far, there are no records of any summoners of note surpassing the challenge on four or more attempts.

Even the journey to Cinza’s temple is often fraught with danger, for while there is an established path through the jungle, there are wild beasts that can suddenly attack an unwary party, and there are several river crossings that can be flooded or have their bridges washed out, resulting in significant delays.  Very much the contrast to the temple at Ukejama, though certainly fitting given the Amaranth’s temperament.

With these worries firmly in mind, Esekia would nonetheless await his turn, watching as many summoners would struggle and fail to tame Cinza on their first try, losing face amongst their peers as they sequestered themselves within the private chambers of the temple to reaffirm their faith in Phyresis and bolster their will for a second attempt. 

I would spend time practicing my own magic with Zubayr in the jungle near to the temple (there were so many summoners and Stalkers about that there was little need for us to be by Esekia constantly, and it would be several days before he would make his attempt).  During the course of this latest training, I would make use of a staff obtained from a trader in the village, as I would likely not find a runic blade outside of the mainland, perhaps in San Granalle, though since its destruction, that was unlikely.  Still, I hard progressed far enough along that I could successfully hit my targets with focused magic, qualifying as having mastered the basic rank of elemental attack spells.  Zubayr was satisfied with my progress, though he remarked that the strength he sensed within me had increased at a faster pace than normal.  Again, I wondered if this was due to the blessing I had been bestowed. 

#Lore24 – Entry #222 – Helica Month #10 – Upon Ukejama Island

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Though I have never been to Ukejama Island previously, I was aware through my research that there were ruins from the same age as the holy city of Grad Artanais dotting the jungles of the island, though there was little information on what they may have once contained, to the point that I seriously doubted they had ever been seriously explored. 

We arrived mostly intact from our journey through the demon-infested seas, the frequency of attacks lessening as we got further from San Granalle where the Transgressor first appeared.  So, when we arrived at Ukejama, we found the locals on alert, their fishing fleets staying closer to the island itself, but for the most part, life hadn’t changed in this distant place.  The villagers were hungry for news of what had happened, and their were plenty of others aboard, seeking to have their chance to become full-fledged summoners, who were eager to tell them all of what had occurred. 

Ascending the holy mountain to the temple of the Amaranth Makani was a challenge for Esekia and Zubayr, the first having lived an easy life in the temples of the capitol city Tyraguard, and the second having not been on a serious adventure for some time.  For the Stalker and myself the ascent was enough to get the blood flowing, and paled in comparison to my journeys across the sacred peaks of Temismere. 

As it would turn out, we had little to worry about in terms of guarding our charge during this time, for the many would-be summoners who sought to tame the Amaranth meant that we would have to wait our turn, which gave me a chance to explore the ruins for myself.  Though of the same vintage as the city of Grad Artanais, the ruins hidden within the jungles were of a different civilization, one that was not immediately recognizable, and likely lost, the stone structures mostly overgrown or buried by what I could assume were massive upheavals of the land itself, perhaps during the first coming of the Transgressor when the world had first fallen under its terrible influence.  Unfortunately, I would be unable to immediately find signs of a shrine to Saghirah, for I could find no access beyond perhaps a hundred feet into the structures, so bad was the collapse.

I was about to call my explorations finished when I found a hidden pathway amongst the last of the ruins I could find, the place partially flooded due to its proximity to the sea.  The passage was treacherous to say the least, for I feared a collapse at any moment, but I could not leave it unexplored.  My perseverance was worth it, though, for I came to a mostly intact chamber which contained signs that it had once been related to the Amaranths, perhaps once maintained by the priests and priestesses who once served them.  Here, I would learn much.

#Lore24 – Entry #215 – Helica Month #3 –Within the Shrine of Saghirah

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

Though many would call me mad for daring to stay in Grad Artanais for as long as I did, especially alone, in the end, my faith in the knowledge I had uncovered to that point would prove to be well placed.  It took some time to work my way through the shrine complex, for it was in a sorry state by this time, though I was confident that I would not be molested by the roaming demons in this place.  The ethereal calmness that permeates the temples to the Amaranths still lingered here, and without the Transgressor’s presence, the demons would not dare to approach these divinely protected places.

At last, I found Saghirah’s shrine, still mostly well preserved, ancient streamers covered in prayers to the Amaranth still hanging from the ceiling and blowing in the cool breeze that permeated the structure.  Her stone visage loomed large above me, the image of a large, winged feline, sitting imperiously with head held high, wings spread wide and angled back, regaled in armor that, in spite of the ravages of time, still held some semblance of their golden sheen.  Though I doubt there has been anyone to visit this place in centuries, I still felt the gaze of the Amaranth upon me the moment I came before her image, and I knew then that she was there, watching me.

I immediately dropped into the reverence position, offering my praise to Saghirah, explaining why I had ventured into this place, begging her aid.  I could feel her gaze weighing heavily upon me, the sense that I was but a mouse before a great predator that could strike me down at any moment.  There is little else that I could do then, for I was suddenly stricken by the fear that perhaps what I sought had been hidden by the Amaranth herself, not the Church, and that to court her for this forbidden knowledge was to invite death itself.

There was a shift in the ambiance of the shrine then, for the cool, damp air, like that of a tomb, that I had experienced since my arrival suddenly vanished, replaced in what sounded like a deep, sighing breath from the visage of the Amaranth herself by heat and dryness, not unlike the heat of a desert.  As I dared to look up, I swore I saw a gleam in the eye of Saghirah’s statue, and then the warm blast of air shifted, stirring the ancient streamers, drawing my eye beyond the visage to a doorway partially hidden by rubble. 

Taking this as a blessing from the mighty Saghirah, I rose and ventured forth, finding signs that this doorway was once hidden.  Beyond were stairs leading downward, and soon I was within an even more ancient place, still heavy with the presence of Saghirah, this chamber filled with fine sand and circled by half a dozen stone plinths, each bearing smaller images of Saghirah, half similar to those of the larger image above, the other half that of an unearthly humanoid woman, adorned in armor similar to what her bestial form wore, her head hidden behind a great feline mask.  In the center of this chamber was an altar, and upon this altar, still appearing pristine, was a scroll case.

#Lore24 – Entry #214 – Helica Month #2 – The Angel of Grad Artanais

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

The tales of an angel, seen and heard across the broken expanse of the once great city of Grad Artanais are true!  I have witnessed her with my own eyes, heard her voice singing the Eversong with my own ears! 

As I dared venture down from the overlook in which I camped last night, a thick fog rolled in from the poisonous sea that borders the ruined city.  On the one hand, it would be useful in concealing my presence from the roaming demons that fill this place, but on the other, so too would they be concealed from me.  It didn’t take long for me to hear them, their claws scraping over the broken skyscrapers that lay about in piles, rending the ancient metal remains of machines that were somehow frozen in time, still there and not rusted away by time and seasons.  I tread carefully, using every sense I had to navigate in the direction I had chosen, careful to avoid notice. 

It was perhaps two hours into my dangerous trek that I began to hear the Eversong, the reverent and soothing tones echoing eerily through the dead city’s remains.  Then I heard her voice, the voice of the angel herself, clear and distinct, chilling me to my very core.  Her voice sounded otherworldly, a starkly beautiful, yet hauntingly melodic sound amongst the fog-shrouded decay and littered remnants of demon-infested civilization past.  I saw her guiding light then, piercing through the fog, and in the direction I had intended to go, a ball of light in the dim fog, like a beacon.  And so, I followed the light and the song, sensing not the demons as I went to her light.  As I neared, the light faded out, only to be replaced by another further along, her voice moving with it, leading me, guiding me.

I followed the angel for perhaps an hour, my tension eased by her voice and her holy light, finally coming to understand what it was that those summoners and their protectors who had survived this place to tell the tale had experienced, for truly she is a being of the divine.  And she led me exactly where I had deigned to go!  It was nearing midday, the fog finally starting to thin, when I finally came upon the ancient shrine complex, broken and decayed, but still recognizable to me as the place I had discovered in the lost records where many of the Amaranths were once worshipped. 

There the angel left me, and I ventured forth into the ruin, seeking the shrine of Saghirah, and hopefully, one of her ancient, forbidden scrolls.

#Lore24 – Entry #213 – Helica Month #1 – The Forbidden Scrolls of Saghirah

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica

Long have I journeyed across Helica’s blasted and broken landscapes, the ruins of a world long dead that lays infested with monstrous demons thirsty for mortal flesh and malkikai, ancient machines that no longer recognize their masters and seek to slay them just the same.  Seldom in these days do I see the civilized parts of the world, those cities and towns that remain in the wake of the Transgressor’s destruction, for what I seek, should any remain, lays far beyond the reach of man and the Church of Phyresis and their closed-minded, dogmatic faith in their god.

What is it that drives me to brave these blasted lands and ruins of ancient cities, you may ask?  Nothing less than forbidden knowledge, of course!  The knowledge denied to the people of this world by the Church of Phyresis, the knowledge once bequeathed to the people of Helica by the Amaranths themselves!  But not just any Amaranth, no, the lost Amaranth Saghirah! 

There are reasons the Church of Phyresis has tried to hide knowledge of Saghirah, and these scrolls are those reasons!  She can see the very essence of time and space themselves, has seen beyond the very creation and destruction of Helica to the great beyond, has seen the stars that lay in the far beyond!  She sees the past, the present, and the future, and in her knowledge lies the key to the true destruction of the Transgressor! 

Why would the Church of Phyresis not seek this knowledge, you ask?  Quite simply, they fear it.  They fear the loss of control over the people of Helica, their place of power.  It is the same story told many times, of the desire of those who wield great power to maintain their control over that power.  But…but I have a theory that there is more to this tale than what I know now.  If I am able to locate one of these lost scrolls, then perhaps I can corroborate this theory with the words of the great Amaranth. 

On the morrow I venture into the ruins of Grad Artanais.  Though it is a sacred site to the Church of Phyresis, they have not scoured the entire ruin; even they do not have the power to survive there long enough to do that.  I am convinced I have located the ancient temple complex that once housed the Shrine to Saghirah, and perhaps one of the lost scrolls I seek.  Given what I had to dig through to find this information, and comparing it with the records of the archives, they have not found what remains there yet. 

May the Angel of Grad Artanais watch over me during this excursion; I will need all the help I can get.

#Lore24 – Entry #193 – Supers Month II #12 – The Order of Hecate

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

And so it was I got inducted into the Order of Hecate that day.  I was right surprised at seein’ just how many mages there were.  Less than a hundred in all, and many of them a couple hundred years old, many not lookin’ more than thirty, but knowin’ there were that many was just a shock.  Then the Sanctum itself was somethin’ else.  I weren’t exactly well versed on the “interdimensionality” stuff, and still don’t rightly think I’m where I should be on understandin’ all that, so I was gawkin’ like a child as we traversed the halls and libraries and alchemy labs and all the other places in the Sanctum before I was showed what would become my room. 

They’re a right friendly lot, and apparently, I was the first new member to join up in over fifty years, so it was somethin’ of a special occasion.  I kinda felt bad leavin’ Assane and Richard behind back at the Tower, but I didn’t know how the Sanctum behaved then, wouldn’t know it till later on when I finally returned to the “real” world, in fact.  After I’d got settled in and had some vague idea of where I was goin’ in the Sanctum, I started learnin’ more about what the Order did and how they did it.  More or less, they were doin’ the kinda thing I’d already been doin’ all on my own, protectin’ the world from them supernatural and magical things that wanted to see people hurt, killed, or somethin’ worse. 

They used to be more of a widespread group back in the ancient times, were spread all over the world back then, little chapter houses here and there, but over time, as magic began to fade and be replaced with technology, the Order shrank and began to recede from the material world.  Now they mostly exist to handle the worst of the threats to our world from the realms beyond, though our world don’t usually rank too high in terms of bein’ targeted by outer-planar threats these days. 

Chrona is the head of the Order, has been for longer than anyone can rightly remember, and is the only one who has mastered the intricacies of chronomancy.  I still ain’t got much of a knack for it myself, and probably never will; takes a special kind of talent, I reckon, and it’s just not somethin’ I got the head for.

I spent what felt like a few weeks learnin’ more about my own magic and gettin’ to know the place and the people, but my soul weren’t quite ready to settle down just yet.  I still had more places to see back home, and more work to do.  I’d learnt a few more tricks and methods to enhance my own abilities while I was there, though, and had worked on fine-tunin’ my gun magic in whole new ways that I’m not ashamed to admit I’m right proud of.  I daresay I can put any spell into a bullet and get it on target, even healin’ magic, though that one always gets me some weird looks and nasty stares when they ain’t expectin’ it.  Not that I blame’em; getting’ shot is a right startlin’ thing.

Anyway, once I was ready to pick back up and head out, Chrona showed me how the portal chamber worked, and taught me how to return once I was ready to come back home, and told me how time flowed differently in the Sanctum.  I went right back to the Tower, and by the time I’d come back to Assane and Richard, found that only a few hours had passed for them.  They knew right then what I’d been up to, sensin’ how my magic had grown.  We camped out there that night, then set off on more monster huntin’ and adventurin’ for the next few years.  I’d upgrade my gear, finally getting’ my hands on some proper revolvers (I’m particular to the Schofield designs myself) and repeaters, even a Sharps.

I could go on for hours ‘bout all the shenanigans we got into, but that’d take too long.  I can jaw about them stories for hours if’n you want to know more.  Suffice to say, I’d come back to the Sanctum sooner or later, havin’ experienced more than my fair share, and learnin’ why it is that most mages eventually decide to pack it in and depart from the material realm.

#Lore24 – Entry #178 – Wild West Month #27 – The Land of Deadly Water that Shoots to the Sky

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

A land that is both sacred and deadly, not to be traveled by the unwary, though perhaps if the Many Spirits are willing, one who is not familiar with the region may survive their journey through it.  The Land of Deadly Water that Shoots to the Sky can be found many days to the west of the Hills of Coal, within the northeastern reaches of the Peaks Reaching to the Sky.  The land is both good and bad here, for there can be found many places where animals and plants for food are plentiful, especially around the many lakes spread around this region, but also many places that will kill without thought or mercy, for the Many Spirits are often in conflict here.

It is the spirits of the earth and water which are most often in battle within this area, and perhaps it is the spirits of fire that stoke the feuds between them.  There are parts of this land where you can find Pools of Smoking Water that Smell Foul, and though colored in beautiful ways, the water is deadly.  Not only will it boil flesh while you still live, perhaps before you even realize it, but it will also poison if cooled and drank.  Even the earth around these pools of water is not safe, for it can be thin and misleading, breaking off to dump you into the very boiling water that is hidden beneath it.  In other regions, the Many Spirts of Earth and Water make pleas to the spirits of the Air and Sky to aid against the Spirits of Fire, shooting huge streams of boiling water into the sky.  One would be wise to tread carefully when you begin to smell foul air and feel rumbles beneath your feet, and watch for the bones of animals, for they too fall prey to the battle of the Many Spirits here.

Even with the dangers here, the good parts of this land are very good, and it is shared amongst the Kerra-Kerra and the Horse People throughout the year as we roam from place to place.  In recent times the Many Peoples from Beyond the Great Walls have begun to venture into The Land of Deadly Water that Shoots to the Sky, ever seeking their shiny treasures and the dark blood of the earth.  I have seen for myself their folly in venturing unwarily through this land, and you will likely see their bones scattered amongst the Pools of Dangerous Water and in the Places Where Water Shoots to the Sky. 

#Lore24 – Entry #177 – Wild West Month #26 – The Great Valley of Stone Towers Reaching to the Sky

As told by Kumiko Stalks-Amongst-the-Stars, shaman of the Midnight Panther tribe of Kerra-Kerra

South of the Peaks Reaching to the Sky, west of the Plains Which Stretch Forever, several days before you would reach the harsher deserts of the Great Scorpion Flats and the Vast Dry Sea of Salt lies the Great Valley of Stone Towers Reaching to the Sky.  Surrounded by higher mesas, the valley drops sharply from these heights.  Below lies a land that is more hospitable than the other desert areas I have spoken of, with plants and animals and water that are more easily found.  Most striking of this wide, long valley are the Stone Towers Reaching to the Sky, standing as high as the mesas surrounding the valley, but dotted all throughout the valley floor.  It is almost as if they were pushed through the earth by the spirits of earth and accepted by the spirits of the sky.

We sometimes journey to the Great Valley of Stone Towers Reaching to the Sky, for it is one of the sacred meeting places of the Kerra-Kerra, a place where we commune with the Many Spirits of the Broken Cage that Still Imprisons, for days, sometimes weeks.  It is one of the places that we come closer to our Great Mother Saressh, and a place where we lay our venerated dead to rest, hidden amongst the many Stone Towers, where the spirits welcome them into the Great Beyond and home to the Great Mother so that they may be born again.

There are many pathways hidden amongst the Stone Towers Reaching to the Sky that lead to the flat tops, for that is where we perform our communion with the Many Spirits.  These paths may be found by those not of the Kerra-Kerra, but only the brave would venture to such places, for the spirits often do not allow those who do not commune with them to come into these places.  There are other dangers for those who do not venerate the Many Spirits, for the Valley itself is guarded by the mighty Thunderbirds that make their nests atop the Towers, and they do not recognize outsiders as welcome, and they wield the power of thunder and lighting as easily as we wield our bows and spears and guns.  Not even one of the Howling Steel Chariots could survive the attack of a Thunderbird.