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The spines that cover the large tree-like object begin to twitch, straining towards the Balroth. Down the sides of the tree and along the lengths of the spines a thick green moss of sorts blossomed from nearly every surface. At the core the tree began a rapid expansion, nutrients drawing up from the ground and light pouring through the grass and the moss. The air began to run dry as the massive number of plants began to steal water from the air as opposed to transpiring it in a natural way. The whole grew into an ecosystem in its own right, the massive tree feeding the moss while the mosses drew in light and water. At the center of it all Qwy was the catalyst, forcing his will out through the plants around him to instigate rampant growth. Overhead the streaks continued with increasing intensity and frequency, turning the sky a delightful shade of contrasting blues with a few whites tossed in the mix above and beyond the clouds.

The effect was not quite unlike throwing a gingerbread man at a brick wall. The delicious miniature man might turn out a little bit squishy, depending on how he hits, but generally should be ok. The brick wall just doesn't give a damn and goes back to doing what its best at, being a friggin brick wall. Splitting away the forest of spines would be much more difficult than simply batting them away, and would slow the Balroth until it struck the bark of the tree at the center. Approximately one foot beyond impact the rampant growth of the tree would tell the Balroth to ******** itself and force it out. The growth patterns continued to spiral out of control, the massive bulk of the tree taking up larger and larger portions of the arena, with the whole now bristling with spines. The tips of the spines were straining against the walls of force, the ends grinding off as their shafts grew thicker.

The idea of something becoming irrevocably stuck in an object that can bend and twist, contort and grow such that it can expell portions of itself is simply preposterous. The object would not even wholy become lodged, ejected but a moment after contact and grabbed by vines to be taken ever skyward. All the while the rampant growth patterns continued, making this here tree one huge ********. By now the girth of the tree was surpassing thirty feet in radius, where it had began roughly half that size. More than half of the arena as a whole was taken up by a tree of epic proportions, with the rest bristling with spikes.

Pfft, ambiance is for people who care. ******** ambiance with a lead pipe. The tree continued growing, along with all the fun stuff around it. Grass and vines and s**t tried to grab the Balroth.

((I'm fatigued and have little to say, so...))

The rampant growth patterns continued, more vines and s**t moving to attach to the Balroth. Between roots and spikes and whateverthehell else the plantlife would begin pushing it towards the nearest wall. Seventy-five foot diameter with the top growing shorter at an incredible rate.

The brilliance of such a large chunk of living wood infused with the will of that of a martial druid is that growth does not simply occur at the outtermost rings of a giant tree. While it is true that the growth patterns may slow at the point where decomposition began, it would not slow the whole. With an incredible rush and splintering of wood the top dropped down and wood slumped down as if it were fluid. The entire legal area would be filled in but a few short moments, the Balroth ejected to parts unknown while the figure that left it would simply be carried away. Furthermore, continual rot would seem to do little to the tree as a whole, decomposition giving way to new forms of life. Where there was rot there came earth, and where there was earth came protrusions of rock. This was no longer just druidic magic flooding natural components, but a force of the entire life cycle of the planet itself manifest. Even death and and nothingness held a place in the life cycle, a new form of change, a change which propegated new existence.

And the ground would simply drop out from under him, the gravity in the area spiralling out of control as rock and earth above crammed in to shove him deep down below the ground. Under the tree the ground seemed to not exist, the whole of the earth dropping away -though it remained whole- to return at a later time. Even flight seemed impossible, forces of magic, natural or not, dying away in what was rapidly becoming a vacuum. Something seemed to be in the works, some force of creation that skirted along the underside of the grand growth. It was almost as if the whole of the world, the whole of creations was offended by Ebby's mere presense.