What brings you to this wilderness, #?
May your journey be swift and your cloak warm, #.
By nightfall this land will be crawling with Orcs.
Be on your guard, #. There are many enemies in these parts.
Good day, #. From which land do you hail?
Keep a safe camp at night, and stay out of the shadows.
My kin has long guarded these lands from the dangers that lie to the North.
Be wary, #. Many new dangers have arisen in these dark days.
Do not forget us, #.
Once, the northern kingdoms of Men were glorious and magnificent. But now we are all that remain.
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither; deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken.
Renewed shall be blade that was broken; the crownless again shall be king.
Evil is at work in these lands.
We are the people of Westernesse, as such who remain.
Orcs in their numbers are coming down from the mountains, #. We must remain wary.
We have crossed many mountains and many rivers. Hopefully we can live here in peace, for a time.
Our homes, such as we have, are here in the North.
Here the heirs of Valandil have ever dwelt in long line unbroken from father unto son for many generations.
Our days have darkened, and we have dwindled; but always the Sword has passed to a new keeper.
Lonely folk are we, Rangers of the wild, hunters - but hunters ever of the servants of the Enemy.
The servants of the Enemy are found in many places, not in Mordor only.
Beware of the ancient wights and shades that roam this land, #. It is said they can take over your body.
In time of need, we will ride to the aid of Isildur's heir.
Winter is coming soon. But we are ever the watchers in the North.
How did you come to our secret lands?
I pray that you are a friend to the Dúnedain.
Our lands are kept secret from the outside world. I can only trust that the Rangers allowed you to pass.
We are a scattered folk, #, and our dwellings are hidden.
None but friends of the Dúnedain and the Eldar may pass into these lands.
Our dwellings here are known to none outside our kin, save the Elves.
We are a secret people. It is how we have survived.
We are the folk of the West, of Númenor of old and the lost realm of Arnor.
There are few in the outside world who remember our names, #. The memory of Arnor is all but forgotten.
My forefathers were the Kings of Westernesse, in its glory! Of Númenor! But now the world is darkened, and we struggle here in this wilderness.
Westernesse is drowned beneath the sundering seas, but while we remain, #, the memory of our people endures.
We Dúnedain of the North are a wary people. Be sure you do not cause any trouble.
Were it not for my people, these lone-lands would be crawling with Orcs, or worse.
If you would travel East, beware the mountains, #. Dark and evil things lurk within.
Hereabouts lie the last refuges of our people.