The Black Bear Bar was a local diner which the NEID members frequented, not just because it was only two blocks from the office, but for the amazing normal and supernatural foods. Each menu had a second layer that could only be seen by those of magical persuasion, with delectable choices for those who couldn’t eat regular food.

Shamus, the owner and bartender, was a werebear, and knew fully well about what both communities needed. “AL! GOOD TO SEE YA! Goibniu sent a new shipment, dubbed ‘Honeygirls Dream’ want to test it?” Goibniu was an Irish god of crafting, with alcohol falling under that category, his constant experimenting led to a deal with Shamus, who sells Goibniu’s creations in return for observing the feedback.

“Sure thing,” Alikur says, as he and Boss take a seat at the bar. “As long as my hair doesn’t catch fire of course.” Not all of Goibniu’s creations are successes, and some have absurd side effects, like Lauren breathing fire after a sip of ‘Fire Drakes Brandy’, which was immediately disbanded due to third degree burns.

“Goibniu said he would fix that problem, but sadly for your ugly mug, he’s still working on it,” Shamus replied, pouring the two of them pints of Honeygirl.

The bar was relatively quiet for a Wednesday night, with the dining staff bustling around as usual. “So, Shamus, hear anything lately?” Boss asked, after downing half a pint in one go.

Shamus smiled, eyes twinkling, “The Maine pack is as agitated as a kelpie taunted with a severed limb. I know you smell it too, and don’t tell me it’s because of that idiot who shifted and killed that guy in front of the city hall. This is something else.” He paused, considering his words, “Bacchants have also appeared.”

Boss gagged, and coughed into the Honeygirl. Alikur wanted to do the same, bacchants were bad news.

“How do you know?” he asked calmly.

Shamus let out a deep laugh, “One came in, obviously new, and tried to start an orgy, I kicked her wine-smelling ass out. She met with a group of about ten or twelve all smelling the same. We had a stare down, but they backed off.” Alikur sighed in relief. Werebears were just like werewolves except calmer, bigger, and packed a wallop of a punch. Bacchants were strong though, and a group of ten or twelve could take down a werebear, but at a heavy cost. Bacchants were also immune to iron and steel, so most conventional weapons passed through them.

“This will be a problem, I’ll ask Ruby to search for parties that would attract them. In the meantime,” He finished his pint of Honeygirl, “tell Goibniu that Honeygirl is delicious, but the back of my throat has this weird sticky feeling that I can’t seem to lick off.”

………………………..

Off a little dirt road on the outskirts of Orono, at the edge of the woods, stood Alikur and Ruby’s wood cabin. The doorway was magical so it expanded and contracted based on who was opening it, or just contracted if someone tried to break in. The inside opened into the lounge room. On the right-hand side upon entering, a large couch with a few chairs separated by end tables surrounded a fireplace with a 72” flat screen tv above it. Opposite, on the left-hand side was a kitchen area, an over-sized and heavily used coffee machine on the counter. There was enough room in between the two sides for Alikur to pass by to the hallway leading to the rest of the house.

On the right-hand side of the hall there was a small office with the walls lined with bookshelves. Books on law, both mundane and supernatural, the latter being hidden by script that Alikur placed on them so that only he could see what they really were. Opposite of the office was a small washroom, and further down the hall next to the office was a guest room, simple in design and practical. At the end of the hall, was the main bedroom. The bed was big enough for Alikur to spread out and move without falling off in his sleep, suffice to say it took up most of the room. Off to the side was a personal washroom bigger and more accommodated to Alikur’s size. Opposite was a dresser, with only a few pairs of comfortable fitting leather jerkins and hooded cloaks for special occasions. If he needed to dress up any further, he could modify his concealment script to make it look like he was more dressed up than he was. Alikur’s pride and joy however, lies in the basement.

Hidden behind a bookshelf in the office (he fully admits to reading and watching too many books and shows respectively) and down a spiral staircase which, like the doors, magically accommodates to size. At the bottom, was a stone and dirt basement which doubled as Ruby’s room, on one side were a few tables with books and papers with drawings of runes and symbols of power, where Alikur manipulated known runes and symbols to create variations and where he could work on discovering new ones. Beside the tables were stands of axes and bows, for when he needed to apply his runes. This... was scriptomancy, and on the other side, was his masterpiece.

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He called it the Power Circuit, circles of intricate script interconnecting in an unending loop spanning nearly half the room. Alikur combined and manipulated runes from different cultures, spanning Japanese Shinto to Irish Oghma script, blending them together seamlessly. He spent an entire month, using all of his vacation days in the process, gathering and pushing all the magic energy he could gather into the circuit. It left him constantly drained but the circuit became active and worked as an endless loop. Using the magic to power the house, heating, electricity, water, etc., as well as the magical defenses. The magic was in an endless feedback via every little detail, collecting heat, wind hitting the house, magical explosions from experiments that blew up in Alikurs face, everything was collected and used again. If other magic users, especially other scriptomancers like Alikur, found out about it, the only thought other than jealousy would be how to steal it and kill him in the process, neither of which Alikur wanted.

Ruby, being an earth elemental, had felt the Power Circuits initial magical flow through the earth and had come to investigate. Upon learning of Ruby, Alikur observed it, she hadn’t had the presence of mind or spirit to have a name or gender at the time, and found that although she was powerful, she couldn’t compare to pure-surface or pure-deep earth elementals. However, unlike himself, Ruby could come into direct contact with the circuit, and could then easily surpass either of her brethren. Seeing a mutual benefit, Alikur made a deal with the young earth elemental, who after about half-a-year in the Circuit, became powerful enough to create a human-like form and mind, becoming Ruby and Alikur received aid and a second pair of hands for both work and scriptomancy.

Because of how Ruby found the Power Circuit, the first thing they did was make sure no one else would be able to feel or sense the magical output. Since then, Ruby has taken a claim on the basement, fortifying the already magically enforced foundation even further and was where what he called her ‘heart’ or true self, lay. It also gave her a front row seat to Alikurs experiments. Her personal favorites where the transmutation scripts gone horribly wrong and he ended up looking like some weird crossbreed.

“So why are bacchants so bad? I understand that they create parties and orgies wherever they go but what’s so bad about that?” Ruby inquired as Alikur replaced his steel arrowheads with wood heads.

“Have you ever been around Amsterdam or Tokyo Red Light Districts?”

Ruby nodded, confused. “Even us elementals have heard of the exploits in-oh, yah, I see your point.” She said putting emphasis on the “point” while he was magically hardening the arrow heads.

“That hurt. Now, although they are immune to magic, tempering a weapon with magic or controlling something with magic doesn’t trigger the immune response. I would prefer to take them out at a distance or a trap, a single bacchant can throw a semi-truck, even with magical defenses it won’t be pretty. Illusions don’t work either, they can’t see through magic, but their sense of smell can. They’re even better than a few wer-.” He stopped, and looked at Ruby. “If I enhance your sense of smell can you tell me the specifics of mine?”

………………

Forsaken Den was a night club known for its wild parties even before the bacchants showed up. Alikur could feel the perverse magic in the parking lot across the street. “Ugh, even I feel that,” Ruby said, her face scrunched up in disgust.

“Stay outside and be ready, I can lure them out with a challenge of worthy prey, but the second I kill one of them, they’ll try to rip me to shreds.” Alikur said, placing his concealment rune on himself and the five earth clones, who were now scented like raw beef thanks to their hollow centers being made of the stuff, so that they all looked, and smelled, like him. He looked like he normally did, albeit cleaned up.

“Wow, you actually look your age now, or at least around it.” Rue chimed gleefully. He had trimmed his fur earlier and it showed in his human guise. His hair was cut and parted, with bangs brushed cleanly up. His beard was neatly trimmed and contrasted against the dark-red leather jacket and jeans. The latter being part of the illusion along with combat boots. A jerkin was always easier to move around in. He had to admit, he actually looked thirty two instead of…

“Hey, what age did you think I looked like before?” Ruby began whistling, avoiding eye contact. “... never mind. I’m going over to the line before it gets any more crowded. Hide the clones until I come out with a shit ton of bacchant bitches on my tail.” He activated his anti-magic script around the Forsaken Den. It was something he had come up with years ago, the script was very temporary, roughly two hours, but for that time magic would be weakened or even broken if it was old.

Ruby looked at him, “Do you mean that literally or metaphorically? I wouldn’t think your tail would be appetizing.”