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 shape-shifter of some sort has taken up a post at the War College of an enemy realm, where he secretly picks off only the most promising officer cadets, arranging bizarre accidents that gradually debase the leadership of the hostile army. In the long run, this will improve his nation's chances when the inevitable conflict comes.
As a shape-shifter he can impersonate superiors and peers alike and send the target candidate to the cleverly-prepared site of his (or her?) execution. As long as he is successful, no-one will ever know about the deception--even necromancy will only implicate the one impersonated...