Thorin opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.
Drummond was still speaking excitedly:
"And His Majesty has already ordered High Archbishop Kael to negotiate with the people of Great Xia, in the hope of buying more Great Xia weapons."
A blaze flared in Thorin's eyes.
He snatched the battle report off the table, clutched it to his chest, and turned to leave.
"Master Steelbeard? Where are you going?" Drummond called after him.
"Back to my smithy!" Thorin roared without looking back. "I'll buy you a drink another day!"
Thorin Ironbeard rushed back to the smithy like a whirlwind.
Clang!
He kicked open the shop's heavy oak door, sending it crashing against the wall and making the tools hanging there rattle.
The Dwarf apprentices and smiths sweating away before the forge all jumped in fright. They stopped their work and looked toward the doorway.
"Master, what are you..." A young apprentice had barely begun when Thorin cut him off.
"Everyone, come here!"
Thorin's voice was gruff and impatient. He strode over to the largest anvil in the center of the smithy and slapped the crumpled parchment down on it with a smack.
Several Dwarves gathered around, grumbling and swearing.
"What now? Are the humans chasing their orders again? Tell them to wait!"
"Chasing orders? I wish it were orders!" Thorin roared, pointing at the figures on the battle report. "Look for yourselves!"
The Dwarves had no idea what had made Thorin so angry, so they all leaned in to read.
"Casualty ratio... one to ten?"
"Technology Corps, thirty-seven killed in action... enemies eliminated... over ten thousand?"
"Hiss-"
A chorus of sharp intakes of breath filled the smithy.
One Dwarf lost his grip on his tongs, and they clattered to the floor.
"One cannon shot... severely wounded a fifth-order