Mmmm... turkey.. and not half rancid! You pretend to think cheerfully, pretending to chew and imagining vividly how it would taste and smell. Your stomach grumbles at the deception, having been fed only the worst gristly, pasty, obnoxiously rotten gruel that it has ever encountered since your captivity here.
You have pinned your hopes on the theory that the illithid only read your conscious thoughts, as you subconsciously work out the design in the back of your mind...
The copper circlet should fit snuggly enough on my head, providing connectivity to the opal, which has engravings that are not arcane, but definitely magical in nature. Probably divine and hopefully protective. Of course I have as much chance of protecting my head from acid or flames as I do psionic abilities, but there is something about this stone. Almost as if something inside it is telling me...
HOW SCRUMPTIOUS IT IS!
You realize that your thoughts have slipped and you scramble to complete the work. You hear footsteps outside the door and you abandon the obviously pointless ruse. You place the gemmed copper circlet on your head as the door flies open...
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