[Now that Ronin isn't likely to be set on fire from a stray spark, he comes closer in a series of athletic leaps, and he chooses to perch on one of the nearby tools that it doesn't look like Thorin will immediately need. He raises his voice so that he'll be heard and is careful to speak a little slowly--there have been less troubles here with being understood by the larger folk, but he suspects the size difference still distorts his voice higher and faster than it should be.]

I'm not an expert, but that looks to be excellent work.

[A pause, and a slightly self-deprecating smile] I came here looking for assistance, but I'm starting to suspect the fairies were playing a joke at my expense.

[Because he doesn't see anything tiny enough to manufacture or repair tools the size a two-inch-tall person would need, which is a little disappointing, because his sword hasn't seen a proper sharpening since he arrived.]