Paylen and Freemonte both opened their mouths to protest, but were cut off by Ger-Val before they had a chance. “Usin' these.” He reached inside his giant tunic and produced four tiny leather pouches and a slim glass phial. “Blast 20, its dwarven 'plosives. Margog gave 'em to me.” He looked at Paylen and Freemonte, who were both trying to appear comfortable with the plan so far.
“You sneak in to da compound, through da fence or somefing. Wait for da signal, you'll hear it loud an' clear. Den, you mix da Blast 20 and throw it. Den you run across da yard screamin' fire fire, den you throw some more, den Paylen does da wavy wavy mumbo jumbo and we'll see you at da bottom.” The plan was starting to make a little more sense, although it was still clearly insane. “Be careful wiv da 'plozives th
