If she shares the steps they need they'll get to it immediately. They can send messages to other dwarf clanholds too.
...
What they're interested in really is how the dwarves of old got so much of the stuff. Possibly all the dwarves this side of the mountain wouldn't be able to make the legendary Helm of Giants, a great arena made of Dvalinn's stone and known now to lie under twenty miles of granite, even if they used iron or copper instead.
...
All right, they really do not do this very often at all. But they have their honour. They can share some of their ancestors' secrets too, which they cannot claim to have found themselves but can claim to have inherited from ancient times.
If she doesn't know what mithril is...
It's a metal the colour of moonlight, and things of magic are made from it. It's far stronger and lighter than steel, and if it's worked just right it can have impossible properties - in one of the halls of their home, a stone chandelier weighing countless tonnes hangs from a mithril chain subtle as a spider's web. In old times mithril armour could be made almost undefeatable, and even today a good mithril blade can be made to cut steel plate clean. There are wilder stories - that it's solid magic, that it is the mother of all metals and would not bow to the tyranny of natural law, that it's the hair of the moon goddess, and that's why they say in some parts chains of it hang down from the sky itself - but whatever is true, it's the kind of thing you might like to know about, if you're in the business of performing miracles like she is.
It's not beyond them to follow her blueprints, even mid-conversation. None of them have ever seen or imagined such a machine before, and the tolerances are a little bit of a puzzle, but they have a master smith to supervise, and dwarf steel might not be what it used to be but it's adequate for this.
They can have an example ready before the day is out.