Djurle led Charm squad down the torch lit corridor, each step an attempt to put distance between them and himself, and each stride matched evenly by the half-haggard team. Clumps of roots littered the path. Some of them wriggled in the walls like gnarly worms. He could almost see them when he closed his eyes and focused, to him the darkness was more appealing than the torchlight when he could keep his feet on the ground. Eyes lied. The ground never did.

Which is why it didn't surprise him when one of them tripped.

Shoots sent themselves towards the guardsman only to be instantly cut by a wall of stone, and before anyone else could react Djurle willed small chunks to yank the terrified man out of the way before more could strike from below.

He put his hand over the mouth of the guard he'd saved as he waited for the plants to settle back into place. A younger Djurle would have chewed him out there and then, but he figured the shock of near-death would be a good enough teacher this time around.

He glared at Ezkutu when he released her charge, hoping she'd understand how close they were to losing their lives and order them to go back.

Unfortunately, they still followed him further.

Ahead of them the cave turned, Djurle could feel the shifting weight of something growing even further beyond. A cavalcade of scenarios played in his mind, each ending with at least two of the guards dead by the poacher’s hands.

No... not today.

Djurle focused on a spot in the wall that he knew was out of the guardsmen's view. Remembering all the caves in the mountains he'd explored off duty, he imagined one of the chambers that came to mind and willed the ground to match the memory. It wasn't a perfect recreation, but even with the writhing roots trying to attack at the void, it was close enough. 

Ezkutu whispered, "What's going on up there?"

"Messing with their heads a bit," Djurle lied, "If they know where we are, we're *&@^#%."

When he was satisfied with the shape he severed the plants from their connection points. The group turned the corner as he buried the spasming remains deep in the bedrock. 

Charm leader stopped at where the path now split and at Djurle inquisitively.

"What," Djurle whispered, "I don't know what every room is for. We'll have to clear it. Take point, I'll watch the rear."

Lowguard Ezkutu nodded and went into the artificial chamber. Two of her squad followed, one torch between them. The last guardsman, whom Djurle had saved, hesitated. 

He asked, "Is... is it safe?"

"They seem to think so."

He looked at the receding torchlight and grit his teeth nervously. 

Come on... don't chicken out now!

"Kabzeel," hissed the lowguard holding the torch, "stay in formation!"

Djurle heard a Gulp before the guardsman moved forward leaving Djurle alone, right where he wanted to be. He slowly backstepped out of view before slamming the hallway shut.

Through the floor, he felt the squad run up to the wall.

This is my fight. I understand, you want to get even, but you'll only get in the way. I have to do this alone.

He could feel them beating against the wall, but Djurle made sure it was so thick and compact that even if he didn't survive, any poachers who did would starve or suffocate long before they could break through, even with a pick. 

Now alone and in complete darkness, his bare feet pittered through the cavern at a snails pace until he came to a door, firelight faintly glowing through the cracks in the frame. On the other side of that door was Fusil, pegged legs pacing back and forth next to some furniture, likely a wooden table based on it's weight. A mass of roots shifted unnaturally against the far wall and roof inside.

How do I want to play this, Djurle thought to himself, he might have some of the refugees in there with him, and I don't know how many more poachers there are... 

He elected to go cautiously until he understood the situation. 

That didn't mean he was going to let them have it easy.

Djurle took a deep, silent breath.

With one mental command, he tore the door out of the wall by it's hinges, simultaneously surrounding Fusil with a dozen stone spears.

"It was pretty stupid of you to hide in a cave Fusil," he shouted into the room, hidden in the darkness of the hall.

The voice of Fusil replied, "Next time, I'll be sure to make a tree house!"

"Bold to assume you'll survive getting squewered! Tell your dogs to surrender, you're the only one here I want!"

"Aw, look at you thinking you hold the power here!"

Without warning, the weight of Fusil vanished from where he was trapped. On instinct he retaliated, only to hear the sound of wood splintering to peices.

*&!^ Klovenite poachers!

"C'mon pebble head, you really think I would be that stupid? Now... be a good little boy and qslowly step where I can see you before I carve a new airway into this man's throat!"

Djurle gnashed his teeth. He'd been played. Reluctantly, he did as he was told.

Stepping into the room, Djurle saw to his left the table he'd felt, on which was four closed casks. Next to it was a pair of thick roots that were completely annihilated by his attack, splinters littered the floor around it. Above him, were dozens more that shrank down to peg sized points hanging from the ceiling at regular intervals, among them on a wooden platform was the real Fusil, Son of Thunderfist, beads of sweat glistening at his white hairline in sharp contrast to the evil smirk on his face. He held a bronze knife against the neck of a frightened looking gurnian man with sand-colored scales. Next to him was a klovenite with pine-bark skin holding another blue-scaled gurnian hostage. 

"Now," said Fusil, "What was that you were saying about, surrendering?"

Djurle scowled. He raised his hands with an angry grunt. Four of the roots whipped around his limbs with a fifth wrapping around his eyes before yanking him off the ground. 

When he came to a stop, he heard Fusil say, "Hang them with him."

"Fusil?"

"Do it Kalam! We don't want him exploding his skin off again. Make sure they're not touching him, the less he can figure out, the better."

The sound of creaking wood and rustling bodies surrounded him as his mind raced to make an escape plan, then the pressure of plant growth surrounded him, once again leaving him cocooned. Only his face and his fingers were exposed.

"Hello again. We've been here before haven't we?"

"*&@^ you!"

"Tsk tsk tsk, always with the cursing. Someone your age should really be more mature. Then again you have spent all your life with mountain folk haven't you? I shouldn't be surprised. How you managed to get a priest's servant as your wife I'll never understand."

"You keep my wife out of this you *@&#^#!"

"QUIET!"

Thunder ripped through him as Fusil grabbed him by the mouth. He heard both the gurnians shriek with pain.

After the three had a moment to recover, Fusil said, "From now on Djurle, you answer to me."

His hand was rough. 

"You speak when I say you speak."

Almost gritty.

"You eat, when I say you eat."

Gritty...

"You breath, when I say you breath."

Sandy...

"Are we clear?"

Fusil let him go.

And Djurle had an idea.

Next to him on either side, he heard the gurnians breathing heavily. One of them whispered something to himself that he didn't quite hear. Djurle assumed it was a prayer and focused his mind towards the stones on his skin, hidden out of sight by the wooden cage.

"Kalam, go find Eira. We'll need her to freeze this to keep him contained."

"I told you already, she's on her way back. She's almost at the mouth of the cave."

"Then go get her."

Djurle began to feel the fabric on his thighs shift as he slowly turned his stony armor into dust.

"I'm not leaving you alone, not after what happened to Calix and Nufot."

"Like you can't feel everything that's happening around us already. If he tries anything you'll notice."

Care to bet on that Fusil?

Djurle directed his powdered stone armor to weave through the cracks in his skin, up his arms, out a through a tiny space near his knuckle, and up the roots that held him in place. It felt like ants crawling up his spine. He resisted the urge to shiver. Barely.

Fusil irritatedly said, "Now, go before you upset me any more than you already have."

There was a brief pause before Djurle heard the wood creaking, and the sound of footsteps walking away. At least he knew for sure which way was down.

"So, tell me oh great and glorious ancestor," Fusil's voice came uncomfortably close to his ear, "What is it like being brought down so low, after all the death and destruction you've caused?"

Djurle replied through gnashed teeth, "You say that like you didn't start it." He hardened the powder into a little tunnel to hide it's  movement and fed it from inside.

"We we're simply following orders. If you hadn't meddled with our conscripts, or if you had accepted our offer the first time... all of this could have been avoided."

Djurle would have rolled his eyes if his eyes weren't bound so tightly.

"Kidnapping my family and murdering my brother isn't an offer-"

"Oh, it was your brother. I'd always wondered about that."

"My brother isn't an it you-"

"What did I say about speaking?"

Energy ripped through his body, his tendons threatening to rip themselves off his muscles as they flexed involuntarily against his restraints. Powder pooled inside his stone conduit. Djurle hoped the conduit blended in with the plant's color, he couldn't afford any mistakes.

He heard the hostages next to him gasping for air when the pain stopped. The one he'd heard earlier muttered, "For.... for... for the..." in between each breath. 

"Something else I've been wondering, if you'll indulge me some more... Why Thruf? You're one who fights, fleeing the war is out of character for you."

"The same reason... that I always found your little spy networks."

"So your just pitbent on destroying every last one of our holdouts? There's got to be at least a dozen more still close to the front, that doesn't explain why you'd come here of all places. Did you come just for me?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I thought you were dead."

"Then why? Why!?"

"You really want to know that badly, huh? Did my wife not tell you when you were torturing her?"

"Don't play games with me spirit of earth! Why are you here instead of fighting in Stogh!?"

Djurle couldn't help but laugh. It was a laugh of celebration. Of pity for what he was about to do to Fusil's world. A deep, hearty laugh that he'd not been able to make in four years, since he'd made his family stay in Zindro.

"STOP LAUGHING AND ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!"

"Hehehe... Fine... But first you need to answer mine. Have you ever heard of The Spirit of Fire?"

"I have. A fabrication by the mountain men so that the cult of gizaki hutsa could blame us for the destruction of some village of theirs."

"I lived in that village. Erith was it's name. I can tell you with certainty that he's no story."

"If he were real, he would have been on the front lines fighting with us, like you should be."

"Oh he's very, very real Fusil. I've spent the last nine winters looking for him, the son of my best friend, the one who killed 83 armed men with flame and fist alone as a mere child."

Djurle wished he could see Fusil's face, the thought of how terrified he must be made him smile.

"He's why I'm here Fusil. He's why I've done all the things I did to your army, he's why I found every single one of your little hideouts. The truth is Fusil, it was never about the war. You were a distraction from my real goal. A goal that I've finally achieved."

"That's impossible. Spirits are conquerors, movers of history-"

"You don't need to believe me, it won't change the fact that I found him."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Look me in the eye and tell me if I am."

"Nice try Djurle, but I won't fall for that."

"He's here. In Thruf. He's been here this whole time. And by The Maker's guiding hand I found him."

"If he's here, then where is he? Care to show me this Spirit of Fire?"

"I don't need to... you've already met."

"No," Fusil's voice cracked.

"Back at the river, he nearly cut off your head."

"STOP WITH YOUR LIES!"

"I already told you I'm not lying Fusil. He's here. As a matter of fact he's in this very cave freeing prisoners with the guardsmen of Thruf."

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP!!!"

"And you want to know something else?"

Djurle heard the Klovenite running down the hallway, his voice echoing off the walls as he shouted for Fusil.

"You'll never get the chance to see him again."

The klovenite shouted as his voice became clearer behind him"Fusil! We're trapped! He's blocked the cave entrance! We're-"

Djurle's senses opened up as the powder finally reached the ceiling. As soon as he felt the world around him, he collapsed the tunnel on top of the Klovenite, completely crushing him with half a ton's worth of earth.

With The Klovenite dead, he commanded the ground beneath him to soften and broke all the roots aver his head 

He shouted, "Hold your breath!" to the screaming gurnians as he let gravity do it's work. His wooded prison came to a sudden stop and quickly sank into the ground.

Now completely submerged with the earth, he poured it into ever bit of space he could find and tore his rooted fetters apart, freeing himself and the gurnians with him. He grabbed both the panicking men and dragged them to the hall, swimming through the liquid stone with practiced effort, making sure to also completely restore his armor. 

While he was under, he could feel a lot of fighting going on in the area where the guardsmen were, he couldn't tell who was who. He also noticed someone sprinting towards the prison from just past their storage room. 

Probably that grixovite.

He pulled the floor of the tunnel they were in out from under their feet to buy his allies time. He didn't block the hallway in case his allies decided to flee or other reinforcements arrived, but he did cover the hole to keep the grix in place, hoping it would hold them until he dealt with Fusil.

As they emerged into air, Djurle said, "Run to the end of the hall, once I've dealt with this bastard I'll get you two back to safety!"

He didn't give them time to respond. Instead he threw the crumbled bits from the collapse into Fusil's room with a single wave of his hand wrecking everything inside, then chased after to make sure he finished the job.

A drop of blue blood from above told him he hadn't.

He whirled around and spotted a scratched and bleeding Fusil preparing to attack. Djurle called the stones and blocked it with ease-

SPLASH

Djurle was sent hurtling across the room by a torrent of water.

From the floor, he saw both gurnians stood at the entrance, grim determination locked in their gaze.

Fusil yelled to the pair beneath him, "New plan boys! Kill him before he kills us! For the mission!"

Both gurnians shouted back, "For the mission!" 

Djurle coughed and sputtered as he reoriented himself, his leather vest stuck to him like warm sap

*&@^ me, I should have known by those kegs!

Djurle rolled behind some debris and out of the puddle he was in. Thunder roared after his fleeing form, reverberating off the cavernous walls with deafening glee. 

Should have just crushed this whole $@&( room but noooo I have to be a *@&#^% SOFTIE!

"Get off the floor you two! He still knows where you are!"

Scold yourself later, move now!

Djurle raised to a crouch. The water around him shifted in an all-too-familiar way before becoming completely stationary, smooth as a mirror. He lashed out with stone pillars, but the weight of both gurnians vanished from his senses. He heard two sets of splattering footsteps.

With a sharp breath, he raised the stony Debris and threw it towards one set, only to be geysered from the side into the open. Lighting arced from Fusil's palms into the water, shocking Djurle with more power than he'd ever felt before, something that made him realize how much Fusil had been holding back in all their previous fights.

He really wanted Djurle dead this time. 

But Djurle wasn't going to go out like this.

He decided he would go on his terms.

Writhing in agony, his skin burning and steaming, his muscles aching and screaming for it all to end, he put all focus on one thing.

The earth shook.

The floor cracked.

The pain ceased.

And he ripped the cavern ceiling down.