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THE WOOD ELVES

 

LINKS TO THE ARMY:

 

HAR'KATHOR, TREEMAN OF RAGE - 325 points

 

Lords: 100% Heroes: 0% Core: 0% Special: 0% Rare: 100%

 

TOTAL = 325 points

 

The Current Army:

 

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The Wood Elves, the Asrai, or the Fay Folk of Athel Loren, depending on where you have heard the stories, are a reclusive, secretive and highly isolationist race of Elves that have long ago voluntarily split off from the rest of their kin, preferring instead to live out their lives in Nature's embrace beneath the enchanted forested canopy of Athel Loren. From these mystical realms, the Wood Elves have learnt to dwell in concord with the seasons and the weave of life and death that binds all living things together. They are the defenders of the forest, guardians of all things natural and pure. For millennia, the Wood Elves have lived in this state of harmony with nature and the great forest, lying in wait and hidden from the prying eyes of the wider World.

 

Yet times have changed since that ancient age.  The lands of the humans have grown vast, and every year that goes by it seems more and more humans encroach upon the ancients forests.  The Wood Elves realize that the fate of Athel Loren is now tied to that of other lands, and the constant encroachment of peasants, orcs, and the foul beasts further the need for the forest to awaken once again. Though they do not seek to act as the world’s protectors as do the High Elves, nor enthrone themselves as its rulers as do the Dark Elves, there are those times when the will of Orion and Ariel, the King and Queen in the Woods, must shape the fortunes of those that live beyond the boundary of their homelands.

 

As such, the Wood Elves have spent their entire existence bent solely on the preservation of their forested realms, establishing themselves as grove keepers to the ancient spirits of the forest and to the demi-gods Orion and Ariel.  Never has this been truer than in these dark days, where every broken bough or withered leaf carries an omen of darker times to come, scented by the deep corruption of chaos.  It is this cause in which they fight, for no land endures long if it cannot take up arms against those that wish it harm, and the waking woodland of Athel Loren have endured for many thousands of years, so long as the watchful eyes of her protectors continue their loyal vigilance.

 

 

WIP LINKS:

Cavalry

COMMISSIONS

DRAGONS

HEROES AND CHAMPIONS

MONSTROUS UNITS

TROOP UNITS

War Machines

 

ARMY LINKS:

 

BEASTHERD

BRETONNIA

Cathay

Chaos Dwarves

DAEMONS OF CHAOS

DWARVES

EMPIRE

HALFLINGS

HIGH ELVES

Kislev

Lizardmen

MORTALS OF CHAOS

OGRE KINGDOMS

ORCS AND GOBLINS

Pirates

SKAVEN

TOMB KINGS

WOOD ELVES

VAMPIRE COUNTS

Edited by mousekiller
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HAR'KATHOR, TREEMAN OF RAGE

 

Manufacturer: Ultraforge Miniatures

Sculptor: Jeremy Glen

 

AT CMON: HAR'KATHOR, TREEMAN OF RAGE

 

Sleep.  Rest.  It had seemed an eternity since Har'kathor had walked the world.  His memory was still as sharp as ever, and he recalled the hosts of Nagaroth who had invaded the sacred glade.  When Har'Kathor walked the world, death and destruction came with him, and that is what he brought to those dark forces who attempted to corrupt all that he cared for.  But, why now.  Why was his mind beginning to stir, why did he once again sense the world.  When he slept, it was like becoming one with the land around him.  Pain.  He felt it, all around.  The glade was drowning in it.  The biting of metal into wood flesh.  The flesh of his own saplings, and of others around him.  He slowly opened the dark caverns that housed his awareness in the form of glowing red eyes, began to stretch his great branches.  Instantly he knew, a horde of the men folk were attacking him and his kin, bearing large axes.  They had already cut down many. 


Har'kathor exploded in a great rage as he realized that the man things were busy even now cutting at his very own massive branches.  His trunk was so wide that they would never have been able to cut through it, so they had apparently settled with just the lower hanging branches.  Soon, the branches left were covered with red blood, with human corpses hanging from many branches and men fleeing from the glade.  As his senses came completely back to him Har'Kathor realized that this horde of men was a logging party.  Never had the kingdom of man ventured this far into the glades of Athel Loren.  Where were the glade guard, the sworn tree kin.  It was the pact that the tree folk had with the nature spirits of the woods, those elven kin who long ago had melded their existence with that of the forest.  With each step forward, the movements became easier.  Har'Kathor would find vengeance for this act.

 

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