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"That night, the forest came to us on gnarled and twisted legs. The trees gathered in the village square outside Maynard’s house, and we knew what had to be done. We gave him to the trees and they dragged him into the centre of their group, away from our eyes. But we heard him scream. When his screams stopped the trees were still. They have not moved since. And that is why, in the middle of our village square, there is a thicket of trees no woodcutter will touch."
—Gervase, Bretonnian Rapscallion[2a]
Treekin

A mighty Tree Kin roused to the defence

A Tree Kin is a mighty brute, an animated hulk of deadwood formed into a twisted and monstrous parody of an Elf. It does not fight with finesse, but with gnarled fists that batter armour apart and pummel flesh to bloody ruin. The Tree Kin is implacable, fearing neither pain nor death, for its body no longer has the ability to feel sensation and the spirit that drives it is already long dead.[1a]

At the heart of every Tree Kin resides the soul of a dead Wood Elf, though this is not the fate of all. Only the strongest and most driven souls retain enough individuality to become such a creature. Most, eager to renounce the identity and struggles that shaped their mortal lives, pass into the Weave of the forest. Though their families and friends might occasionally fancy that they can hear their loved one’s voice upon the wind, it is but an echo of a life long abandoned. However, those souls that become Tree Kin are unable to completely abandon their grip on their former lives, and they forge themselves a new body out of dead timber so that they might continue to defend in death that which they loved in life.[1a]

Tree Kin seldom recognize those they knew in their former lives. So much of memory is based in their physical senses, and thus lost alongside the physical form. As a result, those few flashes and fragments that remain to a Tree Kin are more confusing than informative. For most Tree Kin, however, the world is a strange place, hidden beneath a shroud of forgotten memory. Though the creatures might be drawn to guard particular glades or safeguard certain Elves, they are seldom aware of the importance that those places and people held to the mortal being they once were. In point of fact, one such creature stood sentinel over its family halls for a thousand years, never once aware that the same catastrophe that had slain its mortal form had killed every member of its blood-kin also.[1a]

Yet if a Tree Kin’s garbled memory causes the creature sadness, it never speaks of it. Indeed, it is rare to hear one speak at all. When roused to communicate, the creatures do so in slow, hollow tones, as if the thought driving the words comes from somewhere far distant. However, they understand instructions well enough and are even willing to abandon their self-imposed vigil when asked, should their strength be needed elsewhere. At no time is this more clearly seen than when the Wild Hunt begins and hundreds of Tree Kin emerge from the deepwoods to answer its call. Buried deep though it is, the Tree Kin’s soul resonates to the strident tones of Orion’s horn and stirs eagerly to meet the challenge. Thus can the Wild Hunt often seem to be nothing less than a forest come to life, seething with rage and determined to reclaim the lands stolen from it in centuries past. There are few sights more glorious, or more terrifying.[1a]


Miniatures

  • 6th Edition. (Citadel Finecast)
  • 6th Edition.
  • 6th Edition.
  • 6th Edition.
  • 6th Edition.
  • 6th Edition.

Source

  • 1: Warhammer Armies: Wood Elves (8th Edition)
    • 1a: pg. 50
  • 2: Warhammer Fantasy RPG 2nd Edition: Companion
    • 2a: pg. 119

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