This decaying mass of fungal flesh is a longstanding warrior of the mushroom folk. Old enough to know only mycelial language, the brute has no means of communicating with anyone of a different race. Poison spores rot off its every cell, making close combat a deadly task as any contact is dangerously intoxicating. The roots of these brutes can hold fast against hurricane level winds, allowing any of these ancient champignals to simply entwine itself to a spot and defend until kingdom come. Only a select few mushroom folk have the composition to hold together this well and the few per colony that do are held in high enough esteem to be legends in their own time. Instinct: Protect colony

• grow roots (immovable)