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!nd39fJvVDI 02/07/10(Sun)23:17 No.7974195>>7974073
Hungrily, you rap your tentacles around his head, and secrete a corrosive fluid that dissolves the top of his skull almost instantly. As his body goes limp, you grab him around the chest and hold him up.
You have never eaten Gith before. You taste memories of a chaotic, swirling plane of mists. A glorious burst of wisdom and self-discipline dances across your palate, and your senses are overwhelmed by the pure joy of this exotic meal. You moan in ecstasy as his childhood, adolescence, and early adult memories flow down your throat in a stream of gooey, protein-rich jelly. Finally, your tentacles pick away at the remaining bits of the brain, and you come to the most delicious part of the meal: his last moments.
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You feel yourself poised, crouched in darkness, waiting for your quarry. For months you have tracked the movements of an illithid diplomat to the Drow, and now, as he approaches, you spring your trap. You fire an arrow into the back of its neck, killing the illithid instantly. You hide his body away in one of the storage rooms near the gate, then wait in the other room, listening for the scout you are certain will be sent to investigate. Hours later, an orc opens the door, but you are ready with your bow already pulled taught. You fire two shots, one grazing, one wild. You see the illithid patrolman you had expected. The orc attacks, you dodge effortlessly, then remember the teachings of Zerthimon which hold you centered against the illithid's psionic attack. You achieve a minor wound on the horrific creature, but at the cost of losing your centered state of mind; he takes advantage. The last thing you feel is a mouth sucking your brain out through the top of your head.
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