Rossarm had to dodge his arm away and stop his spell, but his next move was not quite as instinctual. He snapped his arm forward and snatched the vines in his hand. They immediately coiled and tightened around his wrist, but by then his next spell was already coursing through the otherworldly plant. In a dull, sinister light, the vines shrivelled and dried as Rossarm clutched them tighter and tighter. By the time the ghost came from its portal behind him, he spun and tore the desiccated vine from the cracks in the ground, having drained it of its life force. His hand dripped with blood from the thorns piercing his skin.

"You failed in life, you will fail here," Rossarm taunted. "Your little wand is no substitute for discipline." He flicked his eyes over to one side briefly, and then made movements for a powerful fire spell. It was a spell that would clearly take too long to cast before the Breton ghost could retaliate. But no sooner had Rossarm began than an arrow flew straight for the Breton ghost from its side.

Fendros drew another arrow before the previous had even hit. He recognised what his father was doing and made sure to keep up the pressure now that the Breton was in position. He loosed arrow after arrow while pacing forward. Each one was sharp ebony launched from a war bow. Sufferable for the Breton's magic, but impossible to ignore when fired as rapidly.

Fendros' pace quickened as he approached. He needed to keep the ghost occupied, and more if Rossarm's next move did not end the ghost outright.