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The dwarves had walked for most of the day, and dusk was creeping upon their path. Thankfully, the city of Laketown was spreading out before them, it was not long before they arrived at its sturdy northern gates. Most of the young dwarves had never been far outside of Erebor, and they gaped as the huge doors creaked open. Bali spoke with the guards, and the iron-clad men nodded and waved them forward. Owing to the ease of their entrance was the fact that security had loosened slightly after the fall of Sauron; and travellers were frequent during the fall.
The town was far from glamorous; sturdy, wooden and straw houses were built around the great Lake Esgaroth. The townsfolk were primarily fishermen and farmers, also some were fortunate and had more important professions.
Bali and his companions soon arrived at a comfortable-looking inn, The Silver Stable, and entered. The dwarves situated themselves at a large table while Dwalin and his brother saw to the reservations. "Three rooms for two nights; large, if you can manage." Drinks were soon served, and the party was in far higher spirits than it had been during the day's long march.
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