As Bilbo opened the door, and finding a dwarf standing there, "Dwalin", he bowed. "At your service". He seemed to tower over the Hobbit, rendering the latter to become very nervous. Flustered, he readjusted his robe and did his best to stand tall (not an easy feat) while keeping eye contact. Bilbo wasn't expecting company nor did he know who this was. The clothing was not of Hobbit descent, it was of the dwarven brethren. "Uh…Bilbo…Baggins…at yours", the Hobbit awkwardly introduced himself back to him, just before Dwalin stepped inside. "Do we know each other?", he asked the tall dwarf. "No. Which way, laddie? Is it down here?", Dwalin asked all of a sudden. "Is…Is what down where?" "Supper. He said there’d be food, and lots of it" "He…he said? Who said?" Dwalin was entering the kitchen now. This was not expected for the Hobbit. Having Balin to enter into the fray, the two dwarves continue to ignore Bilbo by raiding the pantry. The doorbell rings once again, and this time, there were two dwarves. Possibly younger than the previous two. "Fili", one of them says. He was blond, braided in some places of his hair, along with matching facial hair: beard and mustache.