Garaven Emeryar

In a bygone age House Emeryar were the proud guardians of the grand fortress-city of Fornost Erain! Tall where their banners and stature and mighty were their skill at arms! Now, over a thousand years later, there is as much left of the once glorious House Emeryar as there is of the city they were sworn to protect. Yet, even when at its most desolate, tall men, shrouded in clothes and wielding long spears tread the empty pathways of the city, their eyes ever watching for danger as they darted from shadow to shadow. For just as the city remained, even as a ruin, so did House Emeryar!

Lord Garaven, a man with a plain appearance and no outstanding features, commands his House with the experience only a humiliating defeat can teach. He knows that in terms of numbers, they are no match for the black might of Angmar. He knows that in terms of industry, his small band of loyal retainers is no match for the tireless industry that goes on in the Misty Mountains. A thousand years ago, when his ancestors made a final, heroic stand against the overwhelming forces of Evil, House Emeryar paid for this knowledge with their blood.

Gone are the days of glory where House Emeryar stood against their foes in the light of day, proudly marching over road and field to engage the Orcs and their foul ilk in a bloody melee! Now, under Lord Garaven's whispered command, these men charge from the depths of night, out of places unseen, spurring their mighty steeds on to greater speed before delivering a swift, crushing blow to the enemy. Speed is their watchword, for these lightly armoured men know better than to stay in close quarters with their long spears. Countless losses have driven Lord Garaven, a quiet and careful man, to spend what few lives that remain under his command with care. He is not one to be taken by surprise and can listen to the land like no other and he has imparted this knowledge onto his men. Driven by a desperation he buries deep within himself, he watches on in horror as the Angmarim invaders draw ever closer to what is now mockingly called Deadman's Dike.

Now, with Fornost Erain restored, House Emeryar fights all the harder, once again in the possession of a home to protect and oaths to uphold! As such, the warriors of House Emeryar fight unlike most other Dúnedain or men of Arnor. They do not face the enemy, they hunt them down. They do not use arrows, heavy blades or rows of pikes to slaughter their foe, but subterfuge, speed and ambushes. Lord Garaven has travelled far north and seen the numberless armies of the dark forces of Angmar and knows that he cannot win this way. So he lets them come, allows them to draw near, before he and his men charge out of cover, terrifying the enemy with their mighty charge that, when unleashed upon an unsuspecting flank, rivals even that of the fabled Knights of Arthedain. With long spears in hand, light shields in place, they swiftly slaughter anything in their path, be it Orcs, Snaga or even the much hated Wargs. Then, the moment their charge drops in momentum, he and his men turn to disappear in the forest once more.

Hidden and unseen, eyes ever watching as they travel far along the northern border, Lord Garaven leads House Emeryar, fighting ever so fiercely to protect their kingdom restored.