8. About a Ranger
The barkeeper looked up at the tall man standing in front of the counter. Unkempt, greasy, shoulder length hair and a chin full of untended stubble.
Looking further down, he took in the ragged, muddy clothes. There was some blackish-red stain in the material whose origin Butterbur didn't even want to think about. And worst was that he stank!
He shook his head at the man. Rangers were definitively not civilized folks. How they would find a wife and sire some children looking like they did was beyond the Bree-man.
"How can I help you Mr…?"
"Strider," came the reply. Butterbur would have groaned had he been alone. He did not even have a proper name!