The Kindred

Chapter V:  A Lot to Take In

Author's Note: Hey, I kept the stories that are better than mine, but added a few.  Go read them too.  To everyone who has written one of these stories, DO MORE!  And keep up the excellent work.

An Act to Remember, by Snowsilver.  She has LOTS of talent, and a knack for comedy.  It's the Festival of Time in Clock Town, and Link and his motley band of friends are just tryin' to get through it alive.  Whee.  Plenty of antics and harmless fun.  Don't miss it if you're a Zelda fan!  (Plus most of her other stuff is good too.)

 Shadows of A Broken Life, by SafetyMunkey.  Very action-y, dark, and (even if unintentionally) funny!  A story about a rather scholarly demon's life in NYC, the exciting fight scenes, undead hunters, vampire chicks, and rival demons should keep you on your toes for the whole ride.  And it's one hell of a ride.  You rawk Cait!  P.S.  Put the revamped After The Storm up, I wanna read it.

Magi and Their Obsession with Cream Puffs, by Phantom Pheather.   This is an absolutely hilarious tale of a bumbling mage and his antics.  Oh boy.  Cool action scenes and witty writing.  It's better than mine, and now its formatted!   (Good job man.)

Also by Phantom is The Dark of Night.  This is an extremely cool action story with lots of dark style and black humor.  Check this out if you're a fantasy fan, or in the mood for something exciting, humorous, (In a dark, weird sort of way) and well written.  Battle scenes are definitely a highlight.

After The Scourge, by Nebel.  A post-apocalyptic story written from a cat's point of view.  Very Tolkein-esque, she has recreated society in cattish form, with her own system of measurement, speech patterns and naming rules.  The grammar is flawless and the descriptions are vivid and lifelike.  Easily the best story I've ever read on FF.net.  Unfortunately, there aren't many reviews.  Please read it!  It's absolutely terrific!  This is still the best story on FF.net EVER.

Also, anything by Aloh Dark is a great choice, as long as you're not a homophobe.  Hehe…  Heh.  Kay.

Oh oh oh.  Also, if you find any really good stories, please recommend them to me.

P.S.  This chapter has a LOT of info in it.  LOTS LOTS LOTS!  You might need to re-read it, because it's ALL imperative to understanding the story.  So please make sure you understand when you're finished.  Also, I use Ohm (Pronounced Ahm or Omm) slang in this chapter; so if you get confused, check out the vocabulary chapter in Wanderer's Guide.  ^^ Enjoy.

The commander had put on a fresh uniform, perfectly pressed and identical to the last.  It even had matching medals.  (Pike guessed he had dozens of them.)  The guard passed the officer a thin set of papers, and reiterated what he had said earlier. 

"Right, now we have three major problems that all seem to have come up at once."

The commander nodded, "Which are?"

Pike took a deep breath, "Well, the first is the lizafos army to the north, over the mountains.  Apparently they've been massing troops there.  Several scout parties have attacked the castle, but nothing serious.  LizardBane is fighting off any more airborne attacks."

"What kind of enemy units are we talking about?"

"We've got several field scribes and assistants out there with poe and wraith guards.  Here's a report on the standard unit, a lizafos."

The commander examined the parchment, and Pike passed him another one.

"Dinofos are more advanced.  They use heavier weaponry and armor, but are just as fast and even more vicious.  More than a match for one of our standard infantry."

"A ratio?"

"Two guards to three lizafos, and three guards to two dinofos," he said, passing the commander two more reports, "These are drakes and Gobbits.  The drakes are a larger airborne version of the dinofos; they serve as hit-and-run fighters and transports.  Some have fire-breathing capabilities."

The commander nodded and gestured to the scroll with a short, green humanoid depicted on it.  "Looks like one of the Kokiri kids gone bad."

"Gobbit," Pike read, "Serve mostly as manual labor, but some are trained as assassins and rogues."

"Rogues?" The commander cocked an eyebrow.

"Nice word for thieves." 

The commander grunted, and Pike gestured vaguely, waving a hand in little circles. 

"And of course your smattering of moblin mercenaries and crazy deku scrubs.  You know."

Pikes commanding officer shoved all the files into an overstuffed drawer, and folded his hands, his elbows on the desk.  He rested his chin on the ensemble, "Problem two?"

"Several new strains of dodongo have appeared on Death Mountain."

The commander didn't look surprised, "Is that bad?"

"Well, it's strange.  There are several new varieties, including small fast ones, cold-breath ones, dodongos with big claws, all sorts.  Probably the most dangerous are the 'Shadongos.' " Pike chuckled. 

"What's funny?"

"Oh, I made that name up myself.  Shadongos, I love it."

"I hate it."

"Me too," Pike coughed.  "Anyway, the Shadongos can disappear and appear seemingly at will."

"Ick."

"You said it.  We've got an S.A. that's going to work on it, but he has to get here to get debriefed, then go back.  Then he can collect info."

"Okay, but just one S.A.?  Did he come recommended?"

Pike nodded.  "Mantilas… Manitulas…" he faltered.

"Mantilulas," The commander corrected him.

"Yeah, him.  He recommended the S.A."

"S.A.?"

"Scribe's assistant," Pike offered.

"Ah."

"Right.  Third Problem.  This one's classification level nine.  It does not leave this room," Pike slapped a thin folder down on the table.  A pair of scribe's parchments slid out, one of them depicting a short, pale-skinned hunchback.  One scroll had a large question mark where the picture should be.

"What's this?" The bald officer tapped the question mark. 

"Oh, that's a Scythe.  It's what the townspeople call them anyway.  Don't have much info on appearance or damage rating, other than that they carry a huge scythe and are extremely powerful.  Supposedly able to cast spells."

"What town is calling them that?"

Pike shuffled through his papers for a moment, "Uh, I think the outpost.  Yes, Tsarin Outpost.  It uh, its been evacuated… kind of."

"Kind of?"

"Well… its complicated."


"It always is."

"Alright, you know the Underneath?"

"A small network of tunnels that was used by Ganondorf to transport monsters and supplies.  Stals were used because they could burrow through the rock and emerge anywhere the Underneath could reach.  It's now used as a trade route."

"Right, but stalchild numbers have been increasing.  Nothing the guards can't handle, but yesterday a large amount of these weird hunchbacked things and a few scythes emerged from the Underneath, and attacked Tsarin.  The townspeople attempted to escape, but only a handful made it out alive."

"What about the guard?"

"Fortunately, Saria was visiting when they attacked, and she transported the entire training facility to Kenia."

"Saria?  The Kokiri Sage?"

"Yeh.  She was checking water pollution levels from octopod projectiles in the area.  Turns out they're nice and low, lower than we suspected."

"Well good for the fish.  But shouldn't that have been the Zora Sage's job?"

"I know not.  Am I my sage's keeper?"

"I suppose not," the commander leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath.

Rej glanced out the window at the dark of night. 

"We should probably get moving soon.  Don't want the town to get all worked up."

Skim was still sitting with his arm around Kit, who had fallen asleep.  He laid her head on the pillow and got up to stand next to the poe. 

"Yeah, think she'll be okay?"

"Nope, she'll die for sure," The lantern ghost mumbled.  Skim could have filled a large bucket with all the sarcasm dripping off that sentence.  Instead he glanced at the poe like he had two heads (which he didn't).  Rej cackled nervously for a few seconds, then stopped abruptly and looked sheepish.  (Or as close as is poe-ishly possible.)

Skim rolled his eyes and found a pack under his bed.  A loaf of stale bread, some dried beef, a water flask, a red potion, and several empty bottles went into the leather backpack. 

"Never know when you'll need a bottle," Skim responded to the poe's questioning look.

The lantern ghost glanced around the small hut, "Any weapons or armor?"

The scribe's assistant shrugged and shook his head.  He had never needed anything besides the standard-issue leather armor, and he didn't have that here.  It was in storage at the castle.

"Why would I?  And why would the castle send a poe and wraith just to get a scribe's apprentice?  Could they just send a messenger fairy or a letter?"

The poe swung its lantern nervously, and glanced out the window, "Um, there have been reports of dodongos moving closer to the town.  And you did come recommended."

The slightest trace of a smile crept across Skim's mouth.  Inside he was beaming.  He had come recommended.  It was probably because he found the perfectly preserved Zora in ice, when a live one hadn't been seen for over fifty years. 

He nodded, "I don't need any weapons, I have the flowsteel.  I can pick up my armor at the castle.  I did hear about the dodongos, and increased stalchild activity in the Field."

The lantern ghost nodded, "Shall we?"

Skim stared at Rej for a moment, anticipating more words.  After a moment, he said, "Shall we what?"

The poe sighed exasperatedly, "Shall we GO?"

Skim nodded quickly and pointed at the poe, "Oh go!  I've never heard that phrase before."

Kit stirred on the bed, hugged the pillow, and mumbled something.  Both groaned, and the cucco farmer sat up in Skim's bed.

"You can't go anywhere without me, Skim."

This was his chance to make her confess her love to him, he thought.  "And why is that?"

But the cucco farmer was prepared for this, "Because you're a big pansy," she said simply.  Rej cackled, and she continued.  "If you cried like a baby when that tiny little dodongo you were trying to get info on bit you, you're going to need someone to shoot it in half again."

Skim blinked, then scoffed indignantly.  "I did NOT cry like a baby!"

Kitana rolled her eyes and swung her legs to the side so they hung over the side of the bed.  She leapt off and headed for the door, "Be back in two winks, I need to gather some things."

(Author's Note to the Confused:  This is my attempt at helping you be lazy, so you don't have to be checking the vocab list constantly.  A wink is a measurement of time roughly equal to two and a half minutes.  There are thirty in a lapse.  There are eighteen lapses in an Ohmish day.  There, that wasn't so difficult, was it?)

She shut the door behind her in time not to hear Rej whisper a sharp reprimand.

"Relax," Skim responded to the protest.  "I never said she was coming."

Rej cackled and swooped towards the door, his lantern clanking quietly.  "Right, let's go."

Skim nodded, grabbed a warm Kosc hide coat, slipped into some heavy leather boots, and snuck out the door with the poe.  His boots were weary with use, and made hardly any sound on the damp grass.  Rej, of course, made no noise moving as he just floated through the air.  The only audible sound was the soft clucking of the cuccos in their pen, and the quiet breathing of the pale-skinned man sitting against the huge tree in the center of town.

The lantern ghost blinked.  He had not noticed the pale Hylian on his way into the village.  He nudged Skim with his lantern, and the assistant protested quietly before he noticed where the ghost was pointing.

"Ouch, that thing's hot," he whispered.  "What's the problem?"

He followed the ghost's finger and let out a small sigh when he located its target.


"Oh, him.  That's Rekkan.  He's kind of," he paused, searching for the right word.

"Different?" The poe offered.

"Sure.  He sleeps all day and sits there all night.  Same thing his grandfather did.  Both of them because they didn't get along with their parents, I think."

"What's his father?"

Skim scratched the beginnings of his beard, "A construction worker, I believe.  Same with his great grandfather."

The poe bobbed, as if he knew exactly what was wrong with construction workers these days.  It was at that moment Kit had decided to run up behind them.  She was dressed in a green cotton shirt, brown leather vest and tan, long cotton skirt.  She had put on a pair of just-under-knee-high boots as well. 

"Hey, I locked the cuccos in their cage and packed some octopod steaks."

The poe made a face, (he didn't like octopod) and Skim swore quietly before whispering to Rej, "Stix, she's back.  Do we take her with us?"

The poe shrugged, which wasn't easy to do for a ghost.  It consisted of raising his palms, "I guess."

Skim smiled slightly, "Okay.  Got your bow?"

Kit turned to him, (she had been looking sympathetically at Rekkan) and nodded.  She slung the weapon over her shoulder to rest against the quiver of assorted arrows.

They set off towards the stairs at the edge of town that lead to the field, Kitana giving the pale-skinned boy a friendly wave.  He smiled a little and waved back.  A Kodak moment.

"I can't believe you've never heard the phrase 'Shall we?' before," The poe glanced disbelievingly at Skim as they started down the steps.

"Nobody says it around here!" the apprentice protested.

"I say it."

"You don't count, you're dead," Skim poked the poe in the chest.

"I prefer the term 'reconstructed' thank you."

"You mean like hash browns?"

"That's reconstituted, you twit."

"Oh."

Kitana giggled as the lantern ghost rolled his eyes.  You couldn't tell of course, because of the lack of pupils.  But that's not the point.  It's the principle of the thing.

"So exactly how powerful are these enemies?"  The commander was shuffling through another stack of papers. 

"We estimate about a twelve to one ratio of guards to Scythes and a one to three for guards to the smaller gray hunchbacks."

"Twelve guards to one Scythe?  The things sound like bad news."

Pike nodded, "The only things we've got that can stand up to them are wraiths and griffon riders."

"What's our number on those?"

"Current wraith count is sixty-four, (sixty three now, but they don't know that) and we've got fifty griffons with trained riders at the moment."

"Hmm, standard units count?"

"Five hundred infantry garrisoned at the castle with four hundred elsewhere.  Three hundred archers with one-fifty elsewhere, and about two hundred cavalry spread throughout the kingdom."

"Good, recall half the cavalry.  Other special forces?"

Memory was trying to eat dinner at the moment, and didn't appreciate being interrupted.

"Seventy P.O.E. units and forty elemental mages.  We've also got twelve assassins, nine elite guards, twenty Armor Sentinels, and seven Iron Knuckles," Memory said around bites of food.

"Memory, don't talk with your mouth full," Etiquette reminded him.

"Um, we have about seventy P.O.E. units and forty elemental mages.  We've also got twelve assassins, nine elite guards, twenty Armor Sentinels, and seven Iron Knuckles.  (That crap isn't important to the story, don't try to remember it.)"  Pike repeated automatically.  The commander nodded.

"Okay Pike, you're dismissed," The commander saluted sharply.  He was surprised this idiot could remember all that information.  Of course, photographic memory was one reason he had chosen Pike as his main source of information.

Pike followed suite, saluting and standing up, knocking over his chair in the process.  The commander held his face in his palms as the guard sheepishly set it back to its proper position.  He was almost out the door when a sharp intake of breath made him turn. 

"By the way," the commander said, "do we have a name for the gray-skinned things?"

Pike shuffled through his little stack of folders and papers until he came across a small notepad.  "Yeah, uh, they're called," there was a long pause as he searched for the proper information.  The commander raised an eyebrow as Pike glanced up quickly.  "They're called the Kindred."

End Chapter.

Ooh, spooky.  So now you know what the Kindred are.  I was planning on putting Razor Lizardbane and his griffon Anyala (That's An-yall-ah) in this chapter, but the scene's pretty long.  You'll have to wait till' next chapter, I guess.  And who knows how long that could take!  The scene's a humorous one anyway, and I wanted to try and end it on a dramatic note.  How'd I do?  You can e-mail Fog at d@therenegades.zzn.com (but please don't make fun of him).