Grenades

I saw the shielded Fomor abruptly turn, just as an enormous, friendly voice boomed, “Hello!”
And the haze of battle vanished, burned away by an aurora of silver-white light around a curved, gleaming Sword. Sanya, Knight of the Cross, six and a half feet of muscle, dark-skinned and graceful, whipped the shining form of Esperacchius through an arc, and it was as if the Sword itself cleared and cleaned the air before it as it moved. It struck through the Fomor’s arcane shields as if they had not existed, and before the foe could shriek, its head had jumped from its shoulders.
The big man’s teeth shone white against his dark skin as he lobbed something calmly down among the octokongs and darted smoothly to one side in a sweep of white cloak.
“Grenade!” I screamed, and sent more power into the shield.
A second later, there was a sound you could chew, it was so thick, and a wash of power smashed against my shield, overloading what the bracelet could handle and scorching my wrist.
Octokongs tumbled from the walls, wounded, stunned, some of them dying.

Battle Ground Chapter 16, Page 152