Great Green God's page

How's the plan coming along? I'm assuming you want to split the party and wander off into the wilds alone, each PC to explore their own section of possibly dangerous unexplored land, right? ;)

Ash renews his Fly and Mage Armor spells. ”I don’t like the look of this. Not even a little bit…”

"Right." whispers Abaal to the others. "Here is what we do. We burst through the final door at the end there after we jump the span. I'll throw my mystic falchion pinning the Master of Swords to the far wall, hopefully distracting the others while the rest of you make your way out."

It works every time at the end of every 80's fantasy action film where the hero has a big sword, and the Throw Anything feat. ;)

After "Shaine" falls, Zaigan steps next to "Sorrina" and strikes the imposter.

What makes you think they are imposters? Perhaps the Society has always been run by other-dimensional horrors. ;)

Abaal gives Zartan a puzzled look. "How would a bag of restoration even work?"

Seeing the cleric at work an idea occurs to Kellek. Quickly, he flies across the chamber towards Ziva and Astrid. Still hovering a few feet off the floor he reaches down and touches Astrid on the shoulder. With a word of magic she vanishes from sight in a soft purple puff of smoke.

Kellek casts greater invisibility on Astrid. It was either that or disintegration. ;)

"I am not much for combat but an extra set of eyes is always useful." Zanjkil said as he joined Davor.

"Did you need thome? I might have thome to thpare."

He begins patting his pockets.

Currently.

Guiness and Kellek both find themselves completely paralyzed by despair....

"I ask myself why do these sorts of things always seem to happen to me?"

Excuse me stewardess, I speak Gnoll. Assuming he can hear and that wasn't just meant for someone else.

"If Pharasma wills it, dhamphir, then awaken," whispers Razisus as he channels negative energy to heal his fallen ally.

"Wait. All it takes to revive him is 'negative energy?' I could have channeled negative energy into him." says Madcap. "Watch. Ahem. Egavreis! Yeah you! You shiftless, good-for-nothing, half-undead slacker! Selfishly, lying there in a pool of your own blood on the floor in the middle of huge fight! Why don't you get up and do something useful with your miserable half-life, instead of sitting there looking like so much dumbfounded, rancid liver!? ...There! Feel better now?"

Fort v gaze: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29

For a moment Abaal thinks he feels the petrifying stare of the basilisk begin to take hold, something seems to hold him back and won't allow him to advance. There's a moment where he comes to think that this might be his last, and he thinks that perhaps he should strike the most dramatic pose possible so as to live on as an inspiring stone monument to valor in a place of honor, so that others might look upon him centuries from now and know the meaning of courage and duty.

Then he realizes someone has pinned his robes to the wall with a pair of arrows.

Fighting through it, Abaal strikes out with two quick sweeps of his curved black blade.

**SWISH! SWOOSH!**

+2 adamantine falchion v basilisk (backswing): 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (8) + 14 = 22 damage: 2d4 + 9 ⇒ (2, 1) + 9 = 12

+2 adamantine falchion v basilisk (backswing): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20 damage: 2d4 + 11 ⇒ (4, 2) + 11 = 17

Madcap! saunters up behind the new Charvion and trips them. I certainly hope none of the rest of you were planning to make ranged attacks.

And don't forget the penalties for firing into a melee without the Precise Shot feat, or the probable soft cover provided by some of those those other 24+ combatants (the ones not felled by Razisus's channelling), or--well you get the idea.

♪♫ Spider-Cap, Spider-Cap
Friendly neighborhood Spider-Cap
Wealth and fame
She's ignored
Cooperation is her reward.

To her, the nobility is a great big sham
Wherever folks are fighting the man
You'll find the Spider-Cap! ♪♫

All Evagreis really knows is what he saw extracted from the last House GM announcement, empasis added

I beleive the basic idea is that there are about a dozen other Pathfinders agents in here battling against a like number of Charvions, all at various APLs and CRs, but that's a bit too much to model even in a face-to-face game. Just don't mind those other three low-level Pathfinder agents who grew ill and fell over when Razisus hit them with that wave of negative energy, and we won't mind all of the fireballs being thrown. ;)

The be-spider-capped Mad, does a quick pantomime sneak on her tip-toes behind a third (distracted by force missiles) Charvion with her flail draped over her shoulder like super-sneaky, early-morning, softly-singing fisherman with a giant, plush, carnival spider on her head might, if--and only if!--such a thing actually existed.

She raises her voice just as she lowers the boom at the back of his knees.

♪♫ In the chill of night
At the scene of a crime
Like a streak of light
She arrives just in time!!" ♪♫

improved trip v Charvion III (drops flail if he tries to return the favor): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Igor of Caliphas wrote:

"Would Mathter care for a beverage, or an in-voyage thnack?"

"No."

"How about thome in-voyage entertainment. I have a thome puppetth, and Thrapth here knowth thome folk dantheth. We could-"

Looking at their fallen and goopy foe Madcap reflects "Wow. Gluing someone to the floor was pretty effective. Makes me feel like a spider tossing a web.... Just glad I didn't have to pull it out of my butt"

But then she notes from the heart of the struggle that the fight it still ongoing. "Whoa! There's another one! Oh well,"

She launches at the next nearest Charvion poorly but energetically singing a catchy little tune:

♪♫ "Spider-Cap, Spider-Cap,
Nothing a spider can do that she can't
Spins a web, any size,
Catches bad guys just like flies
Look Out!
Here comes the Spider-Cap." ♪♫

Anyone knowing her for at least the last two minutes would swear that she had been wearing a jester's cap before, and not a hat that looked like big, googly-eyed spider as it does now with furry arachnid legs instead of curling tails ending in bells....

Oh well, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She grabs a number of Charvion's long hair braids and ties them into a sort of complicated cat's cradle looped through the various creases in his armor, continuing her song she does so.

♪♫ "Is she strong?
Listen friend,
You'll just want to stay up-wind.
Eats her mates after sex?
Never has to cope with an ex.
Hey there,
There goes the Spider-Cap." ♪♫

dirty trick (to entangle*) v Charvion Jr. (flanking): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23

* I really try not to repeat the same old dirty tricks. ;)

"Let's take a rest shall we." says Raistli--err, I mean Kellek. *koff, koff*

As the waves of beetles draw near Madcap looks up to see Wither. "It's the 'Not-The-Sort-Of-Druid' druid! I'm saved! I'm sure that she will be able to rub her legs together and communicate with the insects..."

The beetles advance.

"Or shoot webs out of her abdomen like a spider..."

The beetles advance some more.

"Or summon a powerful windstorm to blow the bugs away...."

Wither decides to stay out of the greasy floor. She releases a Ray of Sickening....

"WHAT THE--?!"

The beetles swarm all over Madcap.

Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Fort: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19

"EAGH!!!" Madcap bursts from the pile of beetles spitting.

She climbs a nearby table to get off of the slimy floor and hops from tabletop to tabletop landing upon the table the two archers are using for cover, idly twirling her flail. Biting beetles hang off of her long ears by their pincers like jewelry. Double move.

climb v table: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
acrobatics (move across narrow uneven terrain): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

"Hello boys."

From behind her cover, Madcap turns to her companions and suddenly realizes none of them followed her in.

She turns to the fourth wall again. "Typical." she says flatly to whomever might be out there.

Madcap watches as a huge horde of Pathfinders swarms over and through the gates like some sort of big, angry, cartoon cloud full of flailing limbs holding weapons, completely nonplussed.

"You know we could have done that too." she yells at the rest of the party indicating the horde that just advanced past them.

Then she turns to the fourth wall and looks the animator straight in the eyes and sarcastically states "At least that simplifies OUR PLAN to get in." She turns her nose up at them. "Hmph!"

Igor is obviously having fun. It is rare for him to be part of the torch-wielding mob chasing someone else. Moving in a lurching skip he rushes through the maze tongue lolling like a bloodhound.

"We have a saying in the desert. GERONIMO!!" **SPLOOSH!!** and in the daring swordsman bounds. He takes 10 to swim to the bottom and then kicks off of it to come back to the surface. (After defeating the hidden kraken of course.)

Being a magnanimous hero, Abaal slaps Zaigan on the back and says encouragingly "After you, friend!"

Abaal was in the previous room when he said:

"Let it never be said that the Daring Sword of Katapesh was ever daunted by mere light." Abaal heroically dives in... probably jouncing Ashwell and/or Elby.

Because of course there was a mysterious light to dive into, and why would Abaal ever 'step', 'walk' or 'carefully trod' anywhere when 'leaping', 'diving' or 'barging in' are all viable modes of locomotion?

Now there is a mysterious dark pool of water and he might be reasonably expected to say "Let it never be said that the Daring Sword of Katapesh was ever daunted by mere darkness and water."

If no one else has a plan of action, involving some alternate exit, waterbreathing or other magical hijinks, Abaal will dive into the pool knowing that they are expected to push onward. Like any other self-respecting action hero, he can swim.

From behind the corner of the bar there scuttles a small aberration of some sort. It seems to be a crudely sewn-together pastiche of every creature ever put in a bestiary, a sort of collected crib note of fauna-kind. If ever you needed a remembrance of some mammal, insect, crustacean, reptile, or cephalopod you need only look at this thing for a hint.

The animate amalgam comes to rest then sags a bit making a long, wet squelching noise as it slowly subsides.

Employees and customers alike steer well clear of Igor, and there's a noticeable bubble of empty chairs and stools around him.

"That'th thtrange. generally I can make friendth quickly. For inthtanth, I made Thcrapth here."

A hideous, hunched man in a black cassock falls out of the sarcophagus-sized box feet first in an avalanche of packing material.

He gets to his feet uncurling himself though not as much as one might have hoped or expected.

The hunched stranger turns to the man and asks "Did you thtow thith?"

The stranger's pronounced lisp moistens the stevedore like sea spray. "Thee thith? He indicates a downward-pointed white arrow painted on the side of his crate with the words 'this end up' stenciled upside down above it. He glares at the longshoreman, a very disconcerting glare when one takes into account all the scars, and the relative sizes and spacing of the stranger's eyes.

After a long moment he brushes himself clean of packing wood ships, snatches the crowbar and carefully opens the other box. After inspecting the contents for damage he asks "Where ith the Mathter?" and arranges to join him.

I AM THE TERROR THAT FLAPS IN THE NIGHT!

I am the best vigilante character that I could actually use the rules to build.

I AM MADCAP!!

Just as the party reaches the edge of the bramble barrier, though, a high-pitched voice cackles from behind the hut. "Too late, too late for Hemzel! Gire, finish them!" In response, a fallen log on the other side of the barrier bursts, releasing a torrent of rats.

Gwendolyn half turns to Keynala, and says in an almost bored tone "So, which one do you suppose 'Gire' is?" while nodding toward the swarms of oncoming vermin.

"And Miriel, she's got this, right? I mean she just ran at them. You don't just run at a horde of hundreds of ravenous rats without a plan, right? She's a pala--Oh, no." Gwendolyn remembers her roommate, Apollyanna, the only other paladin of Shelyn that she knews. They can't all be like that? "...Oh, no."

While the crowd is distracted and she has some cover Solemnia says the command word that affects her transformation from a mild-mannered scholar, at a great metropolitan research university and into the Lady of Laughter, that Costumed Queen of Chaos, the Clown Princess of Anarchy, the Mirthful Maiden of Mayhem--

The decemvirate, Abaal. The statues are of two of the decemvirate.

"Ha. Little wonder then that I did not trust them."

**House GM Announcement**

"Welcome to Absalom!" The MC's voice, magically enhanced, booms throughout the arena. "On this glorious eve we gather again in celebration of our wonderful city and its freedom from tyranny."

"Right! Instead we have an un-elected council of twelve oligarchs, led by a 'Primarch' who's held the title for over half a century! YAY! Freedom!" cheers Solemnia waving her greasy turkey leg without a shed of irony.

"We present to you all—the Passion of the First Siege of Absalom! A performance great and terrible, reenacting Absalom’s victorious slaughter of Warlord Voradni Voon’s troops upon the city’s rocky shores. As the highlight of this year's performance, directly following the Passion, the Pathfinder Society has generously agreed to a public unveiling of its latest acquisition, a terrifying device dredged from ancient ruins in the Mwangi Expanse. And now, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The performance is about to begin."

"This is going to be GREAT! It almost reminds me of the time the Grand Lodge built that decorative, time-traveling, flower garden. Remember? It hasn't happened yet, but I remember it like it was tomorrow."

Throughout the opening festivities the timid scholar lets her freak flag fly joiing in the cheers for someone named "MAX-I-MUS! MAX-I-MUS! MAX-I-MUS!" doing the wave, and generally getting greasy turkey fat all over the place.

Following the performance, a large stage is wheeled in to the west side of the Irorium. The stage is covered with a large curtain. Beneath is a scaled set of a ruin and in the center stands a bizarre, cage-like structure of weathered metal covered with strange runes and other ornate etchings. A man who fits the description of the Pathfinder known as Charvion Eater-of-Bones stands next to the cage.

"Good evening, friends! On this auspicious night I present to you an incredible spectacle, the type of which you have never seen before. From the darkest jungles of Mwangi, I have procured an ancient device, an artifact capable of ripping through the very cloth of our reality!"

Charvion touches something on the cage, and it falls open, slowly unfolding like a blossoming flower. He steps inside, and the cage begins to close around him, crackling with swirling tendrils of mystic, silvery ether. In an ominous and unearthly voice he bellows, "I am now fused to the ethereal plane—the realm of ghosts! Ask-"

"Excuse me. Pardon. Excuse me." Solemnia stands up in the middle of Charvion's pitch and makes her way to privy. "Excuse me. Coming through. Pardon me. Excuse me. Pardon."

She makes her way to somewhere she can have a little bit of cover, but can still see the stage from.

As far as questions since we're limited to yes/no answers

I'm thinking along the lines of:

'Do you control everything that happens in there?'
'Is there a floor, Monty?'
'Have you stopped beating your wife?'
'Are those 'two, man-sized statues of sumptuously armored figures in elaborate masks [that] flank the golden door, the glass lenses of their helmets glimmering in the lantern-light as they stand silent vigil' meant to come alive and attack us when we return through said golden door? (Abaal's asking this or a version of it regardless of anything else.)
'Does teleportation magic work in there?'
'Are each of you who you appear to be?'
'Is there any reward in this exercise beyond your and the Decemvirate's approval?'
'Will our reception in there be a hot one?' (or a 'cold one?')
'Give us a gender-neutral name alternative to Noah, that means "rest" or "repose," derived from the Earthly Hebrew root word noach.'
'Will there be math involved?'
'Can we just please get started, I have monsters to slay?'

I think that any test the Society would come up with will involve climbing, flying (at this level) or swimming. There are bound to be constructs or other recoverable 'assets' like summoned monsters and outsiders, ghosts that could reform after a few days, unintelligent swarms and undead, etc.... There will be a number of perception checks and a riddle that involves some linguistic skill, or some other scholarly ability. There will be traps. We should be prepared for these at least.

"Before you proceed, you may each ask each of your old instructors a single yes-or-no question about the dangers to come, which we are obliged to answer as honestly as possible."[/b]

Abaal leans over whispers sideways to Ashwell "I thought one of them was meant to tell us nothing but the truth, and another nothing but lies."

It's a big sword.

In awe of the vast amounts of knowledge that might lay within Kellek floats in and lands. His eyes grow wide, and his mouth gapes as he looks about like a religious fanatic entering the holiest of his sect's holy temples.

"Hmm, this place is called the Therassic Monastery. If we want more than that it demands we ask in "the greater tongue". I wonder how long that language has been dead in the wider world."

"Long. Very, very long." Kellek says not looking at Ziva.

[The librarian repeats it's initial greeting] "Welcome, seeker of knowledge, disciple of greed." before they slowly swing themselves open.

Kellek translates for the party and then whispers something to himself, as an aside.

The massive circular room beyond is brightly lit by dozens of glowing crystal lanterns hanging on fine chains from the domed ceiling sixty feet above. The walls of the room are carved with more runes and sigils, while overstuffed wood-and-leather chairs and polished oak tables surround a thirty-foot wide shaft in the floor. Inside the shaft are thousands of tiny openings, each one wide enough only for the book, scroll or tablet that it holds.

As you take this in, a bronze, metallic humanoid figure stirs in one of the chairs. It squeaks and creaks as it hops to its feet and scuttles over to the doorway. (See handouts for a pic!) Small puffs of black smoke emit from a pipe on its side. In a tinny voice it exclaims in Thassilonian "Distinguished guests! Please enter, enter. Which volume of lore would you like to peruse today? There are currently 24491 volumes, scrolls, pamphlets and unbound manuscripts available. Indicate your wish by author, title, subject, or date of acquisition by the Therassic Monastery."

Kellek attempts to guess how this ancient Dewey decimal system might work. "It might be best to begin at the beginning." then in Thassilonian he says to the librarian "Show us your earliest acquired work."

While the librarian is presumably at its work, Kellek thinks back to any Thassilonian-sounding names the party might have come upon during the course of their adventures.

To all the Multiverse: Happy Crystalhue, Hanukkah, Christmas, Festivus and whatever else you might have been celebrating this week.

Kellek floats back a bit before pulling a scroll from his pack casting it upon himself.

Haste targeting: himself, Guiness, Colvyn, and Astrid; CL 5; 5 rd. duration.

My schedule is a little wrecked today because of "democracy" and stuff.
I know, I know, 'priorities', right? Well hopefully everyone who has the chance to vote today already did, or is still going to, and I'll see everyone back here tomorrow.

You will all be missed, whoever you are--I mean were.

Durgan is more than happy to let Serena take the lead.

Noted and adjusted.

"I have no idea what you are but ugly. You look like a taxidermist animated his leftovers.", Alia responds, drawing her Estoc again, Frost dancing on the blade as she infuses it with magic.

Not sure if I do get to take an action or if there is init, but I figure if it's busy licking chops and telling me about how tasty elf can be, I may have a shot at it.
If so, casting Frigid Touch and holding the charge, and using Arcane Pool to enhance my Blade (+1 Keen, for +3 Keen total).

Alia has the time to do that.

Astrid takes the lead in navigation away from Kellek, trusting her skills and compass over the wizard's intuition.

It's called having a completed a minor in geology and having spelunked once or twice before. This isn't Kellek's first dungeon you know. ;)

Kellek watches in amused fascination as the other's attempts at--well, one can hardly call it diplomacy, but for the sake of argument that will have to suffice. When no one asks the most pertinent questions (or even engages in common courtesy) he puts them forward, after Ziva gives him the opening by asking the kobold for her name.

How large is the hammock?

"Forgive my rude--well, one can hardly call them friends, but here they are. I am Kellek. Why are you here alone and not at the festivities?"

He would have spoken in the kobold's native tongue (given what he knows about kobolds) but if there are more of the little rascals around it might not do to advertise the fact he can speak their language.

Sorry guys, I was waiting for someone to say whether they thought summoning that was a good idea. Didn't mean to hold us up.

No worries. Kellek just has the mind of an efficiency expert.

Brainy wizard guy takes 10 on the same calculation.

Ah yes, the Murder Hobo Society needs new, even more murderous cultist allies to use against their less murderous rivals in the Consortium. Bullwhip thinks. He keeps it to himself though. Best to let all the youngsters keep their innocent dreams... and what ever horrors Red dreams of.

"FRIENDS!"

"NOT FOES!"

"Um, no." Lauranna says, now a bit confused by the words, and the man's tone. She looks up and says "Don't you remember? We clobbered them all."

"PREPARE SOME HEALING! QUICK!"

"WHAT!? Well why didn't you say so. "Really why do you gotta make it sound so mysterious and say stuff like 'Get ready to attend them.' Geez."

Before they reach the ground because Chaldira knows Zs will probably drop them, Lauranna produces a wave of good vibes a couple of times with everyone in range.

channel whimsical healing vibes: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4

Bullwhip, I assumed that you ran from where you were to the anteroom (since you can move up to 3x your movement in a straight line when running). Then, on this round you'd run straight north.

If he could, then absolutely, but by the map, and assuming he had just finished working on the pipes and wasn't using a drain snake with 10-foot reach, it looks like he would have to move northward first to clear the wall from where he was working, and hence not be able to take the full-round action needed to run.

You can run as a full-round action. If you do, you do not also get a 5-foot step.

And as previously mentioned, he would need to be traveling in a straight line.

PS Anyhow it serves the party right for wandering off on their own like that. ;)

In a panic, he magically slings bacon fat underneath the statue, creating a slick surface on the stone floor. He hopes the grease topples the statue, but, he's also worried that the scent will entice the ever-hungry Bullwhip to move toward the wonderful smell.

Cast grease in the 10' area in front of door. Reflex DC 14.

*sniff* "Dis best not be sum fiendish mother-in-law trick."

How much treasure do you have in your lair?
Where is your lair?

Sorry. Just thinking out loud. ;)

Now, in Sandpoint

teleportation error: 1d100 ⇒ 43

There's a flash of light and cloud of violet smoke, and Kellek appears in the big square before the Sandpoint Cathedral with a magical floating disk overflowing with nearly 800 lbs of gold* on it.

He looks around for the party looking a bit put out. "Typical."

* About 18.75 liters depending upon purity. So like nine two-liter bottles of gold.

Happy Ramadan, Easter and Passover, everyone!

Botting Seebonickk to keep things moving:

The gnome retreats to just behind the Reverend. Seebonickk, I figure the retreat is a given; if you want to move to the other side, feel free.

I don't know. Seebonickk seems like he might be a mean tactical wrestler. I bet you has has a luchador mask that he dons in secret and then reappears as as Tomas the Tiny Tiger™! In his guise as the Tigre Diminuto he pounces upon his prey!

Seeing that no one else is taking charge, Bullwhip does so!

"Oye! bard-boy! Don't jist stan' dare! It's yer mother-in-law! Do somethin' useful--sin', or dance or play wi' wee puppets or whatever 'tiz yer do! An' you, bow-girl, drop dat stupid steck before sum enterprisin' dwarf sticks it up yer back dur sideways! Make yerself useful an' strin' yer bow! You, ill-favored clergyman! Ah've got a magical 'ealin' backscratcher on me belt. De control phrase is 'a wee lower an' ter de left'. Oi also 'av a poshun dat can cure yer moderately well. Seebonickk, put on yer wee wrastlin' mask, an' prepare ta pounce! You, you dense frog--Oi don't nu. You're a dense frog! I guess whatever yer do don't croak!"

Still smiling, the creature follows the party out of the room. It avoids the obvious killing ground for the moment. Red's scythe takes a small piece out of it nonetheless, while the frog can't get a good bite from around the corner. One chain wraps around the corner and hits the Reverend for 8 HP. Red also notices that his scythe doesn't do as much damage as expected, and further that the wound left by Bullwhip's axe continues to heal.

In a desperate attempt to get to a cleric who actually has a chance of healing him with a wand, or a spell, Bullwhip rushes into the gap and smacks Corenthiir's devilish mother-in-law in the face with his axe. Now might be a good time for some healing or an armor buff, even some "aid other" might do. ;) Bullwhip has the best AC and is probably the most consistent damage dealer in the party so he really shouldn't be hanging back.

+1 dwarven waraxe v mother-in-law (power attack, possibly inspired (+1 more) if de bard knows waaat's good fer 'im ;) ): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22 damage (possibly inspired (+1 more) as well): 1d10 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18

"Just give me my money!"

Just going to use my GM reroll to reroll my initial job roll from here as prophesied.

[dice=Profession (sailor, Expanding Trade Network)]1d20+9

Other than that good game everyone.

WTF!?

I had just edited the hell out of this post, submitted it and after the two+ minutes of waiting for the Paizo servers to catch up it still hasn't updated. So this might show up twice-ish after I clear my cache.

{While I can still remember vaguely what I wrote} I noted that I had an amusing problem with the final encounter in that it might have simply read "The party walks in and sees a podiatrist and three skeletons."

Grelthe (who has a medical technician degree from a local community college) recognized the implements of podiatry in the chamber and identities the foot doctor in residence. She yells "Focus on the doctor." and then for some reason the rest of the party begins taking their socks and shoes off, not really knowing if the doctor is a podiatrist, an obstetrician, a psychologist, or has a Ph.D in English literature. ;)

Further they don't really identify anything else about the figure in the room (like gender for example) just that the thing they see is a 'podiatrist' like it is the avatar of all podiatry. When you think podiatry you think of this.

No one did anything wrong here. I just found it personally tremendously amusing.