Oh ... my .... gimps! So the spell caster must speak clearly, loudly, and with subtitles that float in the air in flaming letters so that everyone knows *precisely* what revenge she is wrecking. She will combat the murmuring in the hallways, rip away masks covering people's mouths and destroy loudspeakers with "mute-ant" abilities to crush sound into chewy mush. But she hides behind the chair warrior leader and helps the tiny "rolling gnomes" lay planking across the "flat, even grass" that protects the castle sides. Her hidden knee braces are spring loaded with ..... something terribly cool.

Plot idea: one dungeon of torture should be a too small opening to a changing room where clothes magically change sizes to pinch, bind and make you frumpy.