I trust you are a friend?
We do not know you well, #.
Orcs may raid these woods, but they do not escape alive.
We do not want a part of the quarrels of the Noldor.
The struggles of the First House are not our struggles.
We may not issue forth hosts, but do not underestimate our valour.
Morgoth sends his orcs from Tor-in-Gaurhoth. They do not return.
The arm of Morgoth grows longer, but Brethil will remain a haven against it.
Minas Tirith has fallen, Dorthonion is overun. Yet of all the orcs that marched through Brethil, not one escaped.
The Haladin have guarded these lands for nigh on 100 years.
What brings you to Brethil, #?
What business have you in these lands, #?
Are you friend or foe?
I am uneasy about you, #.
Are you a friend of Brethil, or its enemy?
Are you a friend of the Haladin, #?
These forests are old and strong.
The silver-birches are yet to be tainted by the Orcs.
Though we may be solitary, we do not lack for company.
The Lady Haleth led us here. We shall not move again.
This wood stretches south to the Teiglin and north to the Sirion.
Do not bring me news of the outside world, #. I do not wish to hear it.
Morgoth's power grows. Orcs march ever closer.
If the Girdle of Melian will hold, so too shall Brethil.
This is a safe haven for scattered peoples.
Women and children of the First House flee here. Are we to deny them safety?
Nargothrond should face all the power of Morgoth, were we not standing in his way.
Doubt  not the strength of the Haladin, #. We have heroes with us yet.
The sun is not setting on the Haladin, #.
From where do you hail, #?