Looking around, it appeared the others were soaking, bathing themselves, or each other.  It wasn’t obvious if anyone was a peer or subordinate when most were nude.  Il’amatha stepped out of the pool and took some scented oil and a bronze strigil from a basket.  Lifting the bottle, she poured it liberally around her shoulders and breasts, where it dripped and spread, making her glistening and slick.  She rubbed it all over, luxuriating in the slick, warm scent as it covered her arms and legs, and taking a longer moment stroking her generous bottom and chest while talking with Alice.<br/><br/>“Golarion, another world indeed.  I may have heard of it.  It seems like we elves may be similar no matter where we are—I come from a world called Eberron, with its own reclusive nation of elves called Aerenal.  I served our honored ancestors there as a priestess, until events conspired to bring me here as well.  I have heard of Yeenoghu’s Realm, I’m sorry you had to go through there.  While it is no less evil and dangerous here, it is at least more insidious corruption than ever-present violence.  The succubi seem to go over there once in a while to raid, sabotage, or vandalize what they can.  It seems he is a rival of the mistress of this realm.”<br/><br/>Once she was fully engulfed, she took the strigil and scraped the oil off, along with any dirt and sweat it had picked up, leaving it to pool and drain from the floor.  “I can do you too?” she offered to Alice, proffering the bottle.