Although the Month of the Setting Sun was approaching, the summer heat still clung stubbornly to its last breath. Not a trace of breeze entered the study through its open windows, and a thin plume of smoke rose and dispersed beneath the ceiling.
Smoking his pipe, Allen quietly watched Thar, who sat opposite him. He neither hurried him nor grew impatient, and even had the leisure to sip his chilled mead from time to time.
The weather was still rather hot. Although Allen's body had little to fear from scorching summers or freezing winters now, drinking something cool and sweet in this season always lifted his spirits.
Thar, meanwhile, held the letter with sweat covering his face. Fully understanding its contents was still something of a challenge for him.
Few of the Dwarves living in the East were fluent in the Western Language. They rarely dealt with outsiders and more often used their native tongue, Khuzdul, which could also be called Dwarvish.
This was the language Aulë the craftsman had created and taught the Dwarves when he made them. They treasured it dearly and rarely taught it to outsiders, while beginning their own lessons at a very young age.
As a true Dwarf through and through, Thar was no exception. What set him apart was that he knew some of the Western Language, thanks to his father, who had fought in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs.
After arriving at the Lonely Mountain, Thar had spent a long time studying so that he could communicate smoothly with humans. By now, he had a rudimentary grasp of the Western Language.
The parchment Thorin had written on was not large, nor did it contain much text. A human scholar would probably have needed only a few minutes to finish reading it