Mind search (Calleigh and Tryll)

[Yuthirin]

"Uhhhhmmmmm...Misalea and Rosa and Calleigh and Tryll from the Aurora?" A beat. She looks at Rosa and Misalea. "Are we official yet?"

[Anastasia]

"Yes," Rosa says, then knocks herself and says, "We need a few moments of Debonah's time, please. We apologize for the intrusion."

There's a few moments of pause before a voice calls, "Come in."

[Yuthirin]

"Yay official!" It's nice to know we won't get kicked out at random." Calleigh nods, giving the closed door a very tiny mighty shove in an attempt to open it.

[Anastasia]

To your surprise, it works. The door opens smoothly. The air here smells sweet, like vanilla and sugar. It brings to mind cookies, the scent coming from an incense burner in one corner. The room's rather large. There's an inset tub in another corner, steam lightly rising from it. It's big enough to sit a half dozen, the entire thing shod in rosy and smooth stone. Several couches sit against the left side wall, along with a rack with several robes hanging from it. A bookshelf near it provides reading material.

On the other wall are several long, raised benches. Massage tables, you realize. A smiling firre eladrin, eyes fire and expression easy, is massaging an angel on the table. The firre has red hair matching its stereotypical temperament, wearing sleeveless robes that leave her arms bare. The angel lying on the bed has six wings that are flared straight up, her supine form at least seven or eight feet tall. She has long hair with a silver-white streak in the back. She lies on her stomach, watching the party enter with casual interest. She has presence, but not the feel solars you have met before have. More...relaxed, somehow. Calm. She doesn't seem concerned about her lack of dress, though her wings and the fact she's laying on her stomach keep her more or less decent.

"Well, what do you want?" she asks, "You've come a ways out here to find me, not two days after I make it back to Brightwater."

[Yuthirin]

Reminder that she can probably see Tryll. Also, if she's a resident of Brightwater, she has probably at the very least heard of him. He's hard to miss and the pair did live on the streets of Brightwater for like 200 years.

"Hi! I'm Calleigh!" Calleigh courres. "This is Tryll!" A friendly mostly-invisible tentacle wave. "And Rosa!" Calleigh gestures grandly at Rosa. "And Misalea!" Another gesture. "We're from the Aurora and we need your help to punch devils in the FACE!" Calleigh looks triumphant.

[Anastasia]

Oh yes, this is certainly true. She may or may not be slow playing this.

"Hello," Misalea waves as well, smiling nicely.

Rosa goes for a robe and takes it on over, "Ah, would you like this?" she offers.

Debonah seems unconcerned, "Not yet." Her gaze fixes onto Tryll, "Enough with the courre. This smacks of your work, so speak directly."

[Yuthirin]

Because it's polite, Tryll will broadcast to the room! "Yes! Hello! You are Debonah! Celestial! Solar? And not swinging a giant scythe! Capital! We were referred to you. We're seeking someone skilled in psionics for the crusade! Archmage Tepen referred us. Delightful fellow. Can't see me, though. Was concerned that I had tentacles. Hm. Probably should rectify that at some point." He trails off in thought before snapping back into focus at a noise from Calleigh. "Yes! Psionics! Can you craft crystals?"

[Anastasia]

Debonah listens to all of this with calm composure, her masseuse still working on her back. "Be more specific. Psionics in general or crafting crystals?" Debonah says. "Both are rare and one is rarer than the other."

[Yuthirin]

"Ah, yes of course. Apologies! I am referring to the crafting of crystals and related items with the express purpose and indeed the creation of items designed to aid in the use of psionics."

[Anastasia]

"I've never had the talent," Debonah admits, "For a long time, I made do without. Fortunately, skilled creators do exist."

[Yuthirin]

"Ah. Alas, as have I. By and large, at least. I was hoping to find someone who can craft dorjes or cognizance crystals. Or even power stones. Or really anything. I am lacking the skill myself, and my unique disposition makes it rather challenging to learn now. Do you know anyone in specific who would be skilled in this?"

Calleigh looks bored, and has managed to edge away in order to examine the massage oils.

[Anastasia]

Lots of oils. All sorts of scents and types for Calleigh to study.

As Misalea and Rosa watch, "I do," Debonah relaxes, massaged all the while. "I know one who can do everything you could imagine. He's decided himself to it and excels. He also values his privacy." The solar looks at Tryll, "I do not give out his information on a whim. Tell me why I should."

[Yuthirin]

"Well, to be quite honest, we're not just looking to contract him. We're hoping to recruit. In a word, we are currently facing Lixer, one of Asmodeus' get. We recently freed a solar by the name of Cresiel from his thrall in Gehenna, and it came to my attention that I needed to expand my capabilities in order to better acquit myself to aid my companions. I choose to go with what I know, psionics."

A crash.

"The mess in the Astral with the rift just confirmed that I am frustratingly hamstrung at inopportune times. As to why you should, our cause is righteous and just. The Aurora fights to free the enslaved Prime of Lifasa. Not much more you can do to go beyond that, at least as any kind of mortal."

[Anastasia]

Something in all of that seems to get Debonah's attention. Her gaze becomes intent, studying Tryll. "Very well," she says, "A question first. What does freeing that solar have to do with increasing your capabilities?"

[Yuthirin]

"Ah. When we came across Cresiel, he had been...something. Hm. The yugoloths or the devils or the liches had done something to him that was causing his blood to turn black and his skull to strain against his skin as though trying to escape. A series of imps were using his blood to craft strange angular runes. I was forced to make direct and forceful changes to reality in order to release him from his torment. The act of doing so causes a certain stress which causes manifestations to fail with alarming regularity."

Calleigh is covered head to toe in an oil smelling of rolled oats and honey, a small jar broken on a shelf.

"For you, I would suppose it is less troublesome as even without your psionics, you are still a solar and thus mighty. I am incorporeal. At best, I can cause minor disruption and hope for my manifestation to work. With dorjes, I can at least remain able during combat via telekinesis."