Editing Ilsenhoon the Mind Flayer Ministrel (section)

===Chapter 3===
The first creature Ilsenhoon came across was a robed figure, smelling of sweat and blood. Ilsenhoon approached cautiously, unable to call out at distance with his thoughts, being so far from an Elder Brain.

Ilsenhood got within range of the creature and hailed it with his thoughts, HALT. I MEAN YOU NO HARM, MORTAL.

The figure jumped and spun round, facing the illithid with wide eyes and a gaping jaw. It appeared to be human. From its fragile mouth it stuttered, “Wh-what did you say?”

Ilsenhoon frowned, and then remembered that inside the collective cities, the combined psionic power translated all speech, telepathic or not, for them. He searched his mind for the right language, using the common tongue. IS THIS BETTER?

The human nodded. The surprise in his eyes was rapidly diminishing, replaced in equal parts by excitement. “I can't believe it... They actually sent me one.”

Ilsenhoon raised a brow. WHO SENT YOU WHAT?

The human pointed upwards towards the stars, “They did. The old gods themselves! I'm a warlock, by trade, you see... I've made a secret pact with the old gods, a while back, and just last night, I gave them a human sacrifice in hopes of gaining their favor. And now, you're here! My very own minion!”

Ilsenhoon's brow furrowed as he glared at this weak, pitiful human. It actually thought it could command an illithid... as a mere minion?

“Now with you at my side, I'll be able to finish off that damn town once and for all.” The human whooped and hollered at the air, too caught up to notice the piercing, furious stare of Ilsenhoon.

Reaching out and grasping the human's neck, Ilsenhoon gave the inferior creature's mind a fierce blast of raw, psychic energy. The creature howled in pain, but to Ilsenhoon, it sounded only like a mewling kitten. THERE IS A REASON YOUR KIND CALL US MIND FLAYERS. YOU WILL KNOW SOON ENOUGH.

Ilsenhoon shoved the human onto the grass, his mind constantly sending psychic power into his victim. Bit by bit he could feel the thing's mind degrading, losing coherency, thoughts and memories jumbling together. Pain, pleasure, anger, fear. Emotions of every kind contorted its face, like some horrible painting left too long in the rain. It bit its tongue, blood rushing into its mouth and making it choke. The fleshy bit of tongue flopped to the grass.

Soon it would choke on its own fluids. Best to eat while it's still alive...