The Smithy

Before him stood a solid-looking, two-story stone-building, from which the sounds of metal being worked could be heard.
Above the sturdy oak door that constituted the entrance to the smithy hung a sign that stated:
“Dolin Lindisfarne. Master Blacksmith”
Smiling to himself, Hauk entered the building.
Inside the smithy was a dark and warm atmosphere, and the sounds of weapons and armour being shaped was even more distinct, originating from a back-room.
“Dolin!” Hauk shouted out loud.
The sound of hammering ceased, and soon thereafter a particularly muscular dwarf entered the room.
“Aye, what is it?” The dwarf’s surly look changed into a much more hearty one as he spotted Hauk.
“Hauk! What are you doing here my boy!?” The black-haired dwarf was obviously delighted over seeing his old friend.
“I’m here on a mission, old friend. I’ve been sent out to find a member of the clan that has gone missing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, lad. Why don’t you follow me into the back and we’ll have some fine dwarven ale. Moira!” Dolin shouted as he led Hauk into the back of the locale.
“Yes Dolin?” A female voice replied.
“Fetch me two pints of our best ale would you dearie?” Dolin shouted out as the two sat down by a sturdy-looking wooden table.
“Alright then husband.” The same voice said.
A few minutes later, while Hauk and Dolin were busy retelling old times, a dwarven woman, obviously Dolin’s wife, appeared and offered the two a pint of ale each, before returning back to her chores.
“So Dolin, how are things in Gordor then?” Hauk asked a few minutes later, after Dolin had finished the retelling of the battle at Scythe Valley.
“Oh, I guess some people would things are just fine in Gordor. But then I guess that the same people would be lying their fat arses off as they said that too.”
“Things are not that wondrous then?”
“No, in fact they are in some ways terrible. But I’ve got someone coming round here soon that can tell you all about it.”
“And would that someone be me, Dolin?” A voice was heard from the doorway.