Dry Treant without Bark

Once a guardian. Now a husk.The bark is gone. The roots are brittle.The forest it swore to protect is dead.And it doesn’t know how to stop standing.The paladin stepped into the clearing first, boots crunching over dry leaves. Nothing stirred. No wind. No birds. Just silence.Then the warlock pointed to the tree.Not the biggest one. Not the one with moss.The one that looked... wrong.Its limbs bent too far. Its surface wasn’t bark—it was bone-dry, sun-bleached wood. Veined with black rot. And worst of all? It was hollow. Cracks where there should be core. A trunk without life. A husk that moved.This treant doesn’t speak for the forest.It speaks for what’s left behind.A barkless treant isn’t in the Monster Manual—but the lore gives you everything you need to make it real.Treants arise to defend sacred spaces—but what happens when those places die?When the groves are burned, the druids scattered, and the soil turns sour?What’s left... is this.<