“A fairly numerous but barbarous fisher-folk dwelt between the mouths of the Gwathló and the Angren… tribes of ‘Wild Men’, fishers and fowlers, on the coasts of Enedwaith, who were akin in race and speech to Drúedain of Anórien.” - Little known background of the clans
Campaign Features
The Great Clanmoot
Early into the campaign, the Clans of Enedwaith will call a Great Clanmoot and decide the fate of their people. Shall they side with the Free Peoples and the Dunedain or heed the words of the White Wizard and rally to his side?
When one considers the horrors that exist on land in this Middle-earth, it is impossible to imagine what must lay in the blackness of its oceans. Yet it's in these waters that these spearmen hunt to provide for their clan. Migrating along the banks of the Angren, these barbarians have quietly become some of the fastest, hardest throwing spearmen on Middle-earth. As warriors, these men organize into stealthy raiding parties, often camouflaging themselves with dark mud or ash and utilizing the cover of night to steal away whatever they can carry. In combat they prove very lethal skirmishers, but will likely find themselves cut to pieces in most melee engagements. The men from the Angren have consistently proved to be stronger and more capable warriors than their Greyflood cousins and they will survive in the maelstrom of melee far longer than the men of the northern river.
Life in the wilds is second nature to the men of Enedwaith. Given that most of the plains of Enedwaith, no matter how fertile they were, could not support a large population the wildmen were forced to find other ways of providing food for their people. Initially this was the purpose of the Hunters Guild, providing extra food and leather to the tribe. But a peaceful life was never an option for the wildmen, especially considering the foes surrounding them. During their clashes with their adversaries, the marksmen of the guild were called to arms by their Chieftain, and they gladly accepted. Years of living off the land have made these men masters of stealth and experts in tracking down wild animals; being able to lay traps anywhere on the vast plains be they forested or nay. Their experience in the use of the long bow is well known among friend and foe alike and they form groups of men, protected with plain furs or chain mail and a sharpened axe for melee protection. Additionally they also wear the regalia of the guild and many men choose to wear their ceremonial 'wooden crown' into battle. These soldiers despite not being the equivalent of other elite archers, should not be underestimated and their bows have shown those who mistook them for another bunch of untrained wild men the error of their ways.
Now that the clans have united, they have gathered their finest warriors into battalions of men known as the Guardians of Enedwaith. Stealing armour techniques from their spies in Gondor the Lugiu clan brings their excellent smithing forward for the Guardians and this gives them unmatched defences from any other warrior in Enedwaith. Armed with the staple weapon of the wildmen, the javelin, they can tear through enemy units with one volley of their body and armour piercing weapons; the Guardians train rigorously and as such they are the best javelin warriors in all of Middle-earth. When melee is joined they wield wicked spears brought forth from the finest warriors of the River Elders and with their sturdy armour, solid spears and precise javelins, they will spread the warlike message of Enedwaith far and wide from the Guild Houses they call home.
Enedwaith has, for the most part, been a relatively peaceful land. The winters are mild, the summers are comfortable, the land is fertile and teaming with wildlife. In short, the fishermen and hunters of the middle land have had a simple and fruitful life. The same cannot be said for those north of the Gwathló.
Minhiriath’s story is one of war and suffering. Where the lands once played host to vast forest and sizeable population, it is now a devastated wasteland. The Númenóreans deforested much of the land and many people fled, Sauron then invaded and burnt down many of the trees that remained. In time, Minhiriath formed part of Arnor and Cardolan but was not spared from the Witch-king’s long reaching arm of destruction. Thousands were killed or displaced and the land was given fresh scars. Finally, the great plague and the floods of the fell winter finished off those few who remained.
Now, in the dwindling days of the Third Age, only a few hardy tribesmen remain and they bear the scars of their land for all to see on their bare chests. The long years have burned a deep hatred into their hearts for all outsiders and they will unleash unto their foes the hurt that was dealt to their land tenfold!
The Redcrests are the pride of Tiarhlach, and the envy of many a warlord of other clans. To be found worthy by the council to wear the red crest is to ascend from mere youth to a full member of the tribe, entrusted with its defense and governance. Redcrests hold the right to vote in tribal assemblies, their collective voice shaping decisions that affect the entire clan. Those who distinguish themselves further in war and politics may rise to the honored rank of emissary, serving as envoys and ambassadors, the only Tiarhlach permitted to ride in chariots—a symbol of prestige and authority.
The strength of the Redcrests lies in their brotherhood. Most warbands are composed of men who have known each other since childhood, warriors that endured the trials of the Tattercloak years together, surviving harsh wilderness, raids, and battles with foes and hunger. This shared history forges a bond that transcends mere camaraderie; it is a brotherhood of blood and toil, where each man trusts the others with his life.
Unlike other tribes, whose warriors fight with individual bravery but little cohesion, the Redcrests drill constantly, honing their formations and tactics until they can move as a single, unified force. From the moment a Tiarhlach earns his red crest, he joins his brothers in regular exercises, practicing their maneuvers, perfecting their strikes, and rehearsing battlefield strategies. Whether advancing, retreating, or holding ground, the Redcrests do so with precision born of countless hours spent drilling together.
This discipline extends to every aspect of their warfare. In battle, a Redcrest warband moves as one, adapting to the chaos of combat. Their formations are tight, their attacks coordinated, and their retreats orderly—an anomaly among the Hirwaith tribes, where most warriors favor reckless charges and disorganized melee; and sometimes heedless flight. This cohesion, combined with their deep trust in one another, makes the Redcrests a potent force on the battlefield.
Their equipment is well made and sturdy, most wear leather and padded armor, with some wealthier or more experienced warriors clad in chainmail. All bear vicious, iron-headed axes, weapons capable of crushing shields and splitting helms, and wear stout iron helmets for protection. The torcs adorning their necks, bestowed by the council, mark their honor and achievements.
Enedwaith has many little rivers and is bordered by two large ones, as such many of its people live on the banks of these numerous waterways. These men have a distinct battle raiment of their own, along with their own warrior society. However they do still pledge loyalty to the chieftains of Enedwaith. Drawn from the ranks of these farming river folk, their archers are able to afford some light protection and a sword for close combat, for which they have far more appetite than other light archers. On the other hand, their bows are weak and of a simple construction compared to the foresters of the region.
Enedwaith has many little rivers and is bordered by two large ones, as such many of its people live on the banks of these numerous waterways. These men have a distinct battle raiment of their own, along with their own warrior society. However they do still pledge loyalty to the chieftains of Enedwaith. Leading these common folk into battle are the more experienced warrior class known as the Elders. These men make up the leading class of the lowly folk of the rivers, answerable only to the Chieftain, they will lead their brothers to war with a grim determination. They stand apart from their brethren as they wear long cloaks, paint their faces in the colours of war and wield smaller, more ornate, shields.
Cavalry is a rare find in the wooded lands of Enedwaith and the only real contact the wildmen have with cavalry is when the scouts of Rohan charge through the region delivering messages and updates to various outposts. After seeing the speed of these messengers, the simple folk of the river lands took to raising horses of their own and eventually began using them in times of war. Trade with Rohan gave them rudimentary horse armour and after studying the scouts, they adopted much the same fighting style; becoming one of Enedwaith's only cavalry units.
Enedwaith has many little rivers and is bordered by two large ones, as such many of its people live on the banks of these numerous waterways. These men have a distinct battle raiment of their own, along with their own warrior society. However they do still pledge loyalty to the chieftains of Enedwaith. Drawn from the ranks of these farming river folk, these men are commoners and peasants who have been levied into local militias to defend towns, roads and river crossings. Given some training and equipped with a short sword and shield, though little armour, these units are useful in defence, but cannot be expected to endure for long on an open battlefield.
Enedwaith has many little rivers and is bordered by two large ones, as such many of its people live on the banks of these numerous waterways. These men have a distinct battle raiment of their own, along with their own warrior society. However they do still pledge loyalty to the chieftains of Enedwaith. Drawn from the ranks of these farming river folk, these men are commoners and peasants who have been levied into local militias to defend towns, roads and river crossings. Given some training and equipped with a short sword and shield, though little armour, these units are useful in defence, but cannot be expected to endure for long on an open battlefield.
Enedwaith is a poor land and the peoples that call it home are farmers, fishermen and hunters. They have no great weapons of war or tools of destruction and when battle is joined, they are hard pressed to counter the dedicated war bands of their neighbours. They are, however, resourceful and have earned something of a reputation of being a canny folk who are able to bring bigger opponents down to size with cunning ideas. The War Wagon is no exception. Through simple adaptation, the warriors of Enedwaith have taken the simple hay cart and turned into a fast moving flatbed. With two horses puling together, the war wagon can do as much damage as 6 or 7 horses in a dedicated cavalry unit. There is enough room on the back for 2 javelin throwers and one driver. Despite its simple appearance, this ramshackle machine may well turn Enedwaith's fortunes in the wars to come.
The Tribes of Enedwaith, from the Hîrwaith along the coasts and rivers to the Daen peoples in the hills, all share customs to some extent. One such practice is that of the veneration of the Seeresses, women able to commune with the ancestors, and rumoured to be able to see the future. To even be considered for such a position, a maiden must walk a dangerous path. For one year, she must trade her peaceful life with that of the fighter, walk as the warrior does, with shield and spear, treading the bloody ground of battle. These females band together in groups, surrounding a Seeress. Each carries a shield daubed in white, to signify purity, emblazoned with the symbol of whatever ancestor or spirit she dedicates her year of war to. They chant, and so embolden the men by singing about their warriors good fortune and terrifying the foe by screeching for ill spirits to befall them. Javelins with bronze tips, engraved with curses, are chucked at their opponents. After a year, those that survive and are deemed worthy may go on to become Seeresses.
Even those that do not, will have no problem finding the eye of even noble suitors - for if this woman was able to thrive in the thick of battle, what terrifying warrior-sons will a union with her yield?
However, any chieftain does well to remember - These are not true warriors. They are motivated and will stay in the fight to the last, for to flee is to forever be shunned by spirits and the clan. But they should be held back to bolster the men's prowess with their chanting, rather than be charged headlong into the grinding jaws of melee.
