You decide to add itching powder to Einamina's bras

Among the items you brought with you to Augustine Academy is a vial of ground purple creeper. It has various uses as an alchemical ingredient: as a salve for rashes, as a stabilizing agent in healing potions, as a simple dye. It also absorbs into the skin after an hour or two of exposure, whereupon it induces an intense tickling and itching sensation that lasts for several hours.

You eye the glowing warding line she placed down the middle of the room. Stepping over it would certainly alert Einamina to your mischief, so you opt to work at a distance. As you carefully open her dresser drawers with telekinesis, the scent of her perfume and the faint aroma of enchanted fabrics used to enhance her natural assets assaults your senses. You find the drawer containing her undergarments and a smirk tugs at your lips. Einamina's bras are made of the finest silk and lace, each one more elaborate and luxurious than the last. Fine fabrics, for smooth and sensitive skin; the itching powder will be especially effective applied this way, if you can pull this off.

As you contemplate your next move, you hear Einamina's voice echoing from outside the room, growing louder as she approaches. It seems she has not gone far, perhaps lingering in the hallway to gloat over your supposed inadequacies. Her footsteps click authoritatively against the stone floor, and you realize you have only moments to act before she returns and catches you in the act. Working quickly, you unscrew the lid from the creeper powder’s jar and use the same telekinesis spell to levitate it to its destination. The fine grey powder lifts out of the jar, into the air and over to the dresser drawer in a thin stream, and you make sure to sprinkle a liberal dose onto each of the elf’s brassieres. You quickly magic the dresser shut and screw the lid back on the bottle, and make an effort to look casual as just a second later Einamina opens the door.

She strides in, seemingly expecting to find you up to some mischief (which in fairness, you were until a moment ago) and gives the room and you a suspicious look. She sees only the room, her side seemingly as she left it, your side still strewn with your bags as you lie reclined on your bed. You decide to push your luck “did you forget something, Ms. Faimeni?” a faint smile on your lips.

“Only how much of a stench a human mongrel like you possesses!” she snaps. “I came back to check that you hadn’t tried to mess with my possessions or space out of some misguided sense of payback. Instead, it seems you’re so slovenly and indolent you can’t even finish packing properly. That’s not surprising, but I can’t allow such a mess in my space. I suppose I’ll have to provide you with an incentive not to live in your own filth.”