The Prideful One
"Gotcha," the Dryad said as she clasped Marcus firmly within her dragon-like vines' jaws. The worry in the face of the other assessors is indescribable. They witnessed the moment their most-dependable leader (the best they can describe him, to be honest) was quickly overpowered by the mere sight of the dryad.
This is hopeless. We can't barge in carelessly in her domain.
They struggled to decide whether to perform a reckless charge toward the opponent in hopes of saving Marcus, retreat and seek help from the other assessors, or come up with a plan to get them out of this predicament.
Suddenly, a lit torch arced through the air. One of their companions threw his torch in the direction of the dryad. It darted through the air but fell short by about a couple of meters from its opponent. The others watched as he fetched another piece of torch from his belongings.