"Push! Push! Don't let them surround us!" Alastor's encouraging shouts echoed through the air as the group battled the writhing, grasping tendrils of tree roots. The roots snaked and coiled, attempting to ensnare them in a suffocating embrace.
"Help! I can't hold them back any longer!" Marcus's desperate cry suddenly pierced the din of battle.
"Hold on, Marcus! I'm coming!" Alastor yelled, sprinting towards his struggling comrade. He slashed with his twin daggers, hacking at the encroaching roots that threatened to swallow Marcus whole. Marcus's situation looked dire. His once-pristine armor was now battered and torn, cracked and pierced in multiple places, riddled with dents. His face was pale with exhaustion.
"Thanks, Alastor," Marcus gasped as Alastor's attack relieved the pressure, pushing back the grasping roots.
"Anytime," Alastor replied. But before he could even take a breath, another cry for help rang out, this time from Arthur.
