With a twitch of the leg and the push of a button; Houston’s boots emitted a massive amount of steam and he was sent headlong into the air.
Why is all the rum gone?
That crazy fellow over there just poured it all into his boots!
Now with Bonus Item!
"Hell hath no fury like MY RIGHT FOOT!" Shardath yelled as he stomped upon the holy ground.
Ruan was the first of Tarak’s troops to disappear. When it was time for him to take a turn at watch, his bedroll was empty, and tracks led away from the campsite.
The leather has held out nicely over the years, of course, it’s magical. And their surefootedness is quite remarkable. Pity everyone thinks you’re daft for wearing them.
A local sculptor of note has chosen to honor the adventurers by crafting lifelike statues of them. While he hopes to surprise them by setting the statues up in their home while they are off adventuring, he may have underestimated the paranoia of the typical adventurer. Provided that he can get in, is he likely to survive whatever precautions they have against intruders? Assuming he lives, what will they make of finding statues in their house?