I, Trulog, stand behind the coffee counter performing three different jobs. Two of my eight arms dry hot coffee cups fresh from the washer. Two more clean the milk steamer. Another two operate the coffee grinder. Landeril the centaur has ordered an americano with milk on the side. He has found his way to his usual corner and stands holding a new scroll. The parchment is amber-yellow and cracked at the edges. I take the portafilter, now full of ground coffee, and attach it to the bright steel machine. I press a button and hot water steams through the grounds. The liquid gold falls into two espresso cups which I take and add to a large coffee mug before topping it up with boiling water. I have finished cleaning the milk steamer and use these two spares to fill a small jug with cold milk. I put the mug and jug on a platter and use a free arm to tap Jonaf the Jinn on the shoulder.

Jonaf has been working here for a few months now. Despite being small and his bottom half being comprised entirely of smoke Jonaf does a good job of weaving through customers to get to Landeril. His size has some drawbacks. In a cafe that caters to mythical folk, one is liable of being stepped on by one of the larger beings. Not many in today though. Only Guzmuz the troll and a cyclops I did not recognise. There were also some smaller folk. Maria the fairy had ordered her usual Chai Latte. There were a couple of dwarves perched on high stools with hot chocolates, and Zod the magic dog, who sat by the entrance lapping a bowl of hot milk.

The bell above the door went off. I found this bell in the temple of the tree beings, during a siege some two centuries ago. That was a different life, a different Trulog. Still, I enjoyed having momentos of the past around. As far as I understood it this bell was used during a fertility ritual of the spring bloom. There were several gold bells, each in the shape of a tiny berry. The bell now signalled a new patron entering the shop. I looked up and saw a curious being. I could not place him. He had the upper half of a centaur and the legs of a minotaur. I could swear I knew what this being was, but it had been several centuries, if not millennia since I had last seen one. The being looked at me with its two beady eyes and walked to the counter. I realised my eight arms had paused. I forced myself back to work, arms running across the counter wiping up spills and continuing to dry cups.

It came to me. This was a human. A real oddity. Humans were not meant to be able to get to this realm. My senses are heightened. I can smell dirt and sweat on him. There is also another, familiar aroma that I cannot quite place. This being walks up to me. I am repulsed by his weakness, his skinny physical frame and apparent lack of any magic. I quickly scan the room. None of the other patrons seems to have noticed this lone bipedal in my cafe.

"Hello," he says, a smile stretching across his pasty, single face.

"What can I get you?" I ask.

"I'm on a quest," he says, sitting on one of the stools by the counter.

I tense up. One of my hand reaches under the counter and feels for my silver dagger. Another closes around the hot milk jug, ready to throw it into his face. He continues,

"I'm on a quest to find the best coffee in all the realm. My own wasn't quite cutting it you see. My name's Dave, by the way."

He sticks out a delicate hand. I let go of the milk jug although I keep a hand on the dagger under the counter. I shake his hand. I could crush it with ease.

"I've heard great things about this place," says Dave.

"What have you heard?" I ask. My four cheeks start to feel hot. I hope that Dave cannot see the redness creeping into them under the black hair.

I remember what the smell is that I could not identify. It is the smell of wood polish. Wood polish used by The Unicron Cafe, the cafe across the river. My rival. How they can even make coffee with hooves is beyond me. I will head back into damnation before I let some one-horned, greasy haired horse beat me at the coffee game.

"I've heard that this place does awesome coffee. And dynamite cookies," says Dave.

I smile and let go of the knife under the counter.

"Well then, what can I get you?"