[center][h2][color=007236]Mathigyle[/color][/h2][/center]

[color=007236]"How refined, psychic enhancement. Tapping into the neural networks of the mind. One.."[/color] There he went again, likely citing the intricacy of making such a potion and the number of faults that could occur with even a single drop of an incorrect ingredient. Which fault occurred by what means, etc. It was not that Mathigyle wished to bore the young Mr. Mors, rather his passion was just so fervent for the subject of alchemy. Finally, he got to the point.

Mathigyle checked his sleeves, necklace, and various pockets cut into his robes for such a potion. Alas, he had none pre-brewed, though the Chromatic Concoction was an intriguing find. [color=00746b]"But of course, Mr. Mors, a potion of psychic enhancement, beginner's strength, for your student. Don't want them seeing too many secrets of the universe now."[/color] The lich croaked a hoarse laugh; you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not. [color=007236]"It will brew for some time and be prepared six micromoments before the moon's apex."[/color] In english, some time before midnight.