You are welcome in the Riddermark, #.
Welcome, #. What brings you to the land of Rohan?
Welcome to Rohan, #.
The horses need feeding, #!
What is your business here, traveller?
The kingdoms of Men are not as glorious as they once were.
Have you heard from our friends in Stoningland, #? Have they forsaken us?
Have you ever seen the Golden Hall, #? The light of Meduseld shines far over the land!
These lands are troubled, #. Orcs often break through our borders.
The days grow dark, and the nights grow cold.
The horses of Rohan are the finest in all Middle-earth.
I'm afraid we won't have enough food for the winter, #.
If those Orcs of the White Hand ever come 'round here, I'm ready to fight. 
New life grows ever where the forefathers of Rohan sleep.
We are the herdsmen and farmers of the Mark.
We Eorlingas are a proud and wilful race.
Be sure that you feed those horses, #.
In these grim times our lands are often besieged by the servants of evil.
Have you heard the songs of Helm Hammerhand? They say he slew Dunlendings even to his last day on earth.
Have you heard the songs of Helm Hammerhand? They say he was found dead in the snow, with the blood of Dunlendings still frozen on his hands.
Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet recently they have been doing so. I fear for our people.
Orcs bearing the White Hand have been seen crossing our borders and raiding our villages.
How tall and fair was Eorl the Young, who rode down out of the North!
I wish I could join the King's Riders, and fight for my family.
Horses always need feeding, you know.
You're not some wizard's spy, are you, #?
The White Wizard has many spies in his service. You're not one of them, are you?
The White Wizard has taken Orcs into his service, and Wolf-riders, and wicked Men. War is coming.
Seldom do we have travellers in this land. What is your purpose here?
The King is ill, some say. He is not how he once was.
Be sure that you feed those horses well.
We are not yet at open war with the Power of the Black Land far away; but if you are fleeing from him, then you had best leave this land.
Beware the White Wizard, #. He walks about like an old man, hooded and cloaked, they say.
Are you in league with the Sorceress of the Golden Wood? Webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.
There are old tales of talking trees in the Entwood. I'd like to know the truth, but none are brave enough to enter.
Beware the trees of the Entwood, #!
Would you like to see my horses?
Don't forget to feed the horses!
Orcs are multiplying in the mountains. I fear for my family, #.
The tales of Orc-raids in the Westfold grow year by year.
Where is the King when we need him, #? Where are his riders?
I am afraid for our people.
The Dunlending wildmen name us Strawheads. Well, #, I would rather have straw for hair than live every day among dirt and pig-filth.
I hope you didn't forget to feed those horses.
There's talk of raiders from the Black Land sneaking in by night and stealing our horses. I can't bear to think of it, to tell truth.
We Rohirrim value our horses above all else. They are the best in all Middle-earth!
Have you ridden today, #, or did you journey on foot?
Have you fed your horses well?
The days have come down in the West. Behind the hills, and into shadow.
Where is the horse and the rider? We are in need of them more than ever, #.
To think we used to be good friends with the Men of Stoningland! Long have they forsaken us.
Our crops wither, our horses are stolen, and they say the King's illness worsens by the day.
The people of Dunland are vicious, and cruel. Be wary of them.
The hillmen are growing ever more hostile. I have heard many tales of burned villages and slain horses.
Horses love a good carrot every now and again.
I hope you've been doing a good job of feeding those horses.
Men say the cruel folk of Sutherstreams are gathering for an assault on Stoningland.
We have an old quarrel with the Corsairs of Sutherland.