“Ah, young Jacob, even you will eventually tire of the novelty drinks of the mundanes.” Ilario continued, face deadpan, “Besides, I’m trying to watch my figure. Have you ever looked at the sugar content of those neon drinks? It’s atrocious!” Illario caught the drink as it slid over. He took a swig. “I’m afraid tonight’s story is long, beginning with a foolish promise I made to a mentor years ago and ending with me being barraged with frivolous magical requests by practically the whole downworld of Cincinnati!”
“Hey, my drinks are never ‘novelty’ or ‘mundane’,” he interjected with a grin, leaning against the bar, “But you’re right, you’d probably get diabetes with just a sip- your old heart couldn’t handle it. Insulin shock is a terrible way to go,” he returned easily. “A man in demand, I like it. Well if you want to explain, I’m all ears- it’s in the job description,” he added the last part with a mock groan, as if he didn’t actually like hearing Illario’s stories. In truth he found them quite interesting.












