Once great Forests and trees of old sat and grow and made home in Eraidor and much of the Hither Lands. Great, giant forests that streatches from Hitheaglir to Belegear, from Ered Mithrin to Ered Luin. But alas, these great and noble Woods were slain and hewn by the Tall-men of the Sea. The Men of Numenor. These most brilliant of Sea-farers, trapsed wave and land to colonize and bring their teachings to the Lands of Middle-Earth. Lond Daer, Long Angren, Tharbad, Argond were such footholds, held and built in the lands of Minhiraith and Enedwaith. The Sea-men grew greedy, we are told. They wished for timber and stone. They wished for stone for craft and the building of house. They wished for timber for their magnificent ships. And so, we are told, began the great Hewing Of Wood. The Numenorean tore tree from their roots, their very foundations that ran deep and long into the earth. They grew hungry for more timber, more wood! Till nought much remained, save for the Black Wood of Minhiriath and the Old Forest of Bree-Land - and other small pockets of anceint Forest. Now nought remains of the great Numenorean Cities and Ports. Nought remains of Arnor, nought remains of old. Arnor fragmented into Kingdoms, these Kings fought against each other and creatures of Evil that dwell thither. Now the Rangers of Arnor, the barers of the Seven Stars hold true to times of old. Halbar is one such Man. Halbar was born deep within Eraidor, in the southern reaches of Cardolan. After the dividing of the North Kingdom, the sons of Eárendur were Kings and Princes of their own Dúnedain realms - Cardolan, Arethain and Rhuadur. Those Dúnedain clans of Cardolan were weakened greatly by the Fell Plague and the Wars of Angmar. They feld mainly to their capital in the Barrow-Downs - where once the Edain of Old and the Kings of Arnor were burried. But alas, no peace was given and Evil spirits were sent from Angmar, along with Orcs and the last Prince of Cardolan was slain. The Dúnedain of Cardolan fled South and East, living amongst the folk of Minhiraith or living in the settlements near Tharbad and Sarn Ford. His name in the tounge of the lesser people means 'Cheiftan' a pretencious name indeed, once he dislikes. His Dúnedain family wished much for him, they wished to call him in a tongue that was of this Realm before they were. Long has he lived, long as he Watched the Southern borders of Arnor, knowing little of it's Northern reaches. Fighting wild-beast and the masterful brigands and theives of Argond and Tharbad, even Orc on occasion. Living amongst tree, hill and ruin. Now he has heeded the call of his kinsmen and ventured Northward, bringing him closer to Bree-land and the fabled realms of Arnor.