Rangers

The Ranger Baradír pulled out a stack of maps from a dusty shelf and smoothed them out on the table before him. “This is one of our best, drawn only a decade ago. It completely renders all the lands and roads of Rhovanion, in proper scale, and includes both major and minor settlements, all clearly labeled." Parnard gave it a cursory glance, munching on a cheese wheel stuck on the end of his eating-knife.

Today's the day! 

My father's people, the Rangers of Esteldin, have been more welcoming than perhaps I had any right to expect. But their purposes do not seem to be for my benefit... well, at least, not in a way I would like. Perhaps my father, who Captain Halbarad speaks of with great affection, did intend for me to become a ranger's wife and helpmeet. Certainly, the other women I've spoken to here believe that. But I cannot!  Not yet! 

It seems to me the exiles of the Riddermark might feel it in themselves to take up the burden of defending lands that are not their own.
If you have men whose sword you will trust in, meet me at dusk at the large boulder in the dried-out riverbed. We shall talk there and then.