The Bree-folk called him Rover, for he went and came often, and rarely stayed long, save for Yule-tide. A hunter, a Ranger, a Spy, and a Criminal he was called, but only one hit near the mark. Still, those in the Bree-lands learned long ago that he is not to be feared. Suspected, maybe, but what would you have to fear of a harmless stranger whom you've seen come and go for over Fifty years without so much as a bar brawl?