Welcome, #!
Good day, #.
Welcome, my lord #. Is there anything I can do for you?
This country is my home, #.
Ah, sweet galenas! Such a beautiful, fragrant herb. One often finds it growing in these lands, #.
If you should chance upon a wild growth of westmansweed, you'd be wise to pick it and take it home.
Are you from around these parts, #?
I'd rather be down at the tavern right now.
There's some troubling news going around. I can tell you that much.
How do you fare?
Do you have anything to drink?
Which village do you come from, #?
There is little quite so beautiful as the sight of the Sun's first rays cast upon the white mountain-peaks.
When I was younger, I dreamed of becoming a Man-at-Arms of Númenor. Those times seem far away now.
Good day, #! But do I mean to say that the day is good, or that it is a day to be good on?
I hope that my family shall not be conscripted into the levies of Númenor.
We are truth-speakers, we Men of Númenor.
The heroes of Númenor shall rise to protect us, #.
Welcome, #. What business do you brings?
You come on a fine day, #.
Fine day for it.
Hello there, #!
What news, #?
What tidings do you carry?
Tell me, #. What news of lands afar?
I am your true friend, #, as long as you stand true for the Dúnedain.
Our crops have been failing, #. I hope for better fortune next year.
The westmansweed of these fields is a wonderful and fragrant herb.
The hearts of Men may grow false, #, but our lands are still as fair as ever.
Come, #, tell me a tale to cheer my heart.
I must return to work, #. Those fields won't till themselves.
Ah, #! I believe we have met before. Or am I mistaken?
Well met, #!
Well met.
I shall not bore you with old tales of the village.