The Dwarves looked at Jocasta with blank and grim looks, the very names of the monsters bringing disbelief or destroying levity. The Dwarves were ancient enemies of everything mentioned save humans in that list, though Beren imagined it did pique their interest if nothing else. The dwarves looked at one another in confusion, except the white bearded elder and one of the black bearded dwarves who stood in the back. They watched Beren and Jocasta with judging gazes. 

"Why were we called from the bellows?" One of them asked. 

"They spoke the tongue!" Buri cried. 

"No, he did." Jocasta said, pointing at Beren. 

"Well, she can speak a lot of languages." Beren said with a smile. "It's actually really impres-" But he was cut off by the looks of the dwarves, and he scratched his head. The Eru'Dai gave a bow in apology, and then unstrapped his drumengr axe and presented it before them, hilt first. The stout folk blinked and a few marveled in surprise, the eldest of them reaching forward and taking the axr by the haft, examining the runes with a sure eye. 

"Baljiskur Runes..." He grumbled solemnly. He gazed up at Beren with a newfound respect, and gave the axe back to him. Beren took it gingerly, and the dwarves, once seemingly at odds with them, immediately turned congenial and even boisterous. They spoke in their archaic tongue in what was likely greetings and approached, surrounding Beren and patting him on the back. Beren looked overjoyed, much like how Jocasta might act were she introduced to a guild of arcane excavators who welcomed her with open arms. It was such a quick transition, it was like Beren had known these dwarves for years. They each introduced themselves with a bow, before they began discussing all manner of things.

"What do you got back there, a finery forge?" The warrior asked. 

"If we could, but no." The one named Gurin complained. "Just a bloomery and a few workbenches to smooth out the impurities. We can barely make steel here. Cast Iron is what we can usually churn out. Men can barely tell the difference, anyway." 

"We're looking to make a living while we comb the libraries." The youngest dwarf pipped in, his blonde beard shorter than the rest (though still nearly three feet). 

"For what?" Beren asked, kneeling down conspiratorially with the dwarves. Every eye save his turned to Jocasta, and then Beren followed their gazes and laughed. "You can trust her. She's with me." 

"We don't just trust anyone a dwarf-friend is sweet on." Radsvir said as if to remind him. A few of them bobbed their heads in unison. Beren blanched, his face flushing. It was true he and Jo flirted a lot, but nothing had been established. He wasn't sure if he should deny it or not, and eventually he decided to go with the truth: 

"We're just traveling together, but I give my word you can speak in front of her." He told them. 

"A great honor. She must be someone special." Otar reasoned, but they didn't linger on it. He turned back to Beren, speaking with a grave visage. "We're here because we are trying to find a lost hold. Thundrim Guldi of the Old Kingdom, in the Age of Reckoning. We heard there were books in the library that spoke of its whereabouts, but it might be in a language of men. Even if we found the book, we might not be able to read it."