and this here's the first of the dark tribe remaster I was planning to post on here with a bit of help from a friend the characters are owned by as my beta reader. I figured a chapter by chapter story could use a spicier image for the title card which was thanks to a commission by the artist credited here https://www.furaffinity.net/view/56326582/ Please look forward to this as getting this big story done is part of my big projects planned for the future.

Out on the coast of Maine, many different old big houses of rich families from the founding of various communities. One such place was the fishing village of Ixtil.


The manor was just off on a big cliff and was once the shining jewel of the community years ago. Key word being was as the manor had been burned to the ground years ago by a jilted lover with the family's remains found in an old sea cave in the base of the cliff. The killer's corpse was found in the cave, dead by his own hand after a spate of murders in the village below.


The ghastly nature of the crimes ensured no home would be built on the remains of the old manor and the place would be a popular point for anyone seeking a quiet place to end your life or that of another.


The civilians of the place avoided the old manor and sea cave because of this history even as strange spiteful creatures seem to come down from that place to cause trouble in the town. After a series of earthquakes, fires, flash floods, tornados and massive colorful explosions at the local construction site on the base of the old road leading to the manor, things had been quiet for 5 weeks, almost suspiciously so. It seemed more like a calm before the storm than an end to the trouble this small town was experiencing.

----

In those five weeks, things had changed if quietly. The residents of the old manor and it's cave the dark tribe, had actually had some changes despite the stagnating effects of endless blind hatred.


Two new members had joined the group, right on the same day no less despite their massively different origins.


Moera, a cougar from the island manor of hark asylum on loan from her noble blooded hateflame parents, offered up like one would give a distant friend a spare piece of clothes. A distant, cold and almost robotic sort from years of being sheltered in a cold lonely ruined manor of a old insane asylum, she was a greatly skilled wizard with utterly poor social skills with a great mastery of metal that showed her skill and practice.


Vento, a coyote who had traveled from Mexico all the way up into Maine by train, car and boat. He was a drifter, going with the wind like a storm of vagrancy with his element of lightning. He was a petty criminal of sorts, using his powers to survive as he wandered aimlessly. He ran into Yume by accident on one of his rare foray's into the outskirts of town in disguise to purchase supplies.


Moera had gotten along well enough with Myston in training and helping move stuff for Fiamm's experiments, thinking they were more daily chores.


Vento got along with Gayle, bonding over old comic books and tv shows as he tried and failed spectacularly to hit on Erdea with the awkwardness of a cheesy 1970's casanova.


Training after their hard battle with their foes the anthro blaze rangers, the group hoping for a rematch after a grueling slugfest of a battle.

---

The next day in march 2021 began and progressed like any other for the group as the group spent time with their projects.


Out in her workshop, Fiamm was busy in her workshop, sketching and erasing plans for the group’s own zord. The big problem from her apart from choosing an appropriate vehicle base was how they’d steal such a thing without the anthro blaze noticing.


Moera was in her own spartan room, endlessly obsessing over different spell books she had brought with her as her family wished. Another book that had seen quite a lot of attention was a book of hateful spiteful fairy tales of anthros being victimized by humans her parents had wrote, the worn pages and cover showing Moera had read through it, cover to cover multiple times.


For Myston, he was at his scrying pool, spying on the anthro blaze rangers who were busy having a bit of family fun on the beach. Myston scowled all the harder as he saw the group relaxing and having fun while he and his group were training their buts off for their rematch.


Out in the living room, Gayle was busy watching tv, mostly the news about Spike Witwicky’s massive escape and the mass break out he had caused to cover his own tracks. The newscaster mentioned the terrible wave of weakness that soon followed his escape just three days later that had hit everyone, including the dark tribe as he took a fair bit of chicken scratch notes. He could also see a tropical storm warning for tonight as he sent a magic note to Yume about it, hoping he’d notice.


Vento was also in his room, busy playing with a few stray dolls like his old gang member buddies taught him of driving a few sharp objects into them, not really feeling excited, as he spared a glance at a torn up photo of himself as a toddler with two of the faces on it missing from cleat marks of some kind of panicked rush of footsteps.


Erdea was by herself in her room, busy looking at her secret notes, letters from her and that she recognized as one of the Anthro blaze ranger’s own Lilly. She held them close to her chest for the briefest moments, wondering if it was really worth it to be constantly outraged at everything all the time.


Yume was by his lonesome in his study, explicit orders on not to be disturbed unless it was absolutely needed. He didn’t have the heart to tell his own students in hateflame that we was having some second thoughts about what Komaru said to him when they both intervened in their students battle as the hours of the day continued to tick by and the sun began to set as the group all stewed in their own.


……

It was another late sleepless night for the group as Yume was still in his room, only having left it to cook a small lunch and dinner for the group to have later as his telephone rang loudly.


Yume spared one sidelong glance at the phone, knowing full well, Kemoro didn’t have his phone number as he stalked over and picked it up.


“Yes,” he said brusquely a scowl on his face as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.


“Is this Yume Shiranui of the dark tribe? I got an offer you can’t refuse,” said the caller on the line.


“Who is this and how did you get this number?” demanded Yume, not in the mood for any games.


“Oh, I’m Spike Witwicky, everyone’s favorite traitor of everyone who’s back for a second go around with all the powers and gear to hand out to new members. Want to join my crew and hurt even more stupid humans for fun? I do have a team waiting outside your old shitty burned out manor if you refuse,” said the masculine voice as Yume’s ears perked out, hearing the sound of a disinterested scoff on Spike’s end of the phone, like someone was right behind him.


“No, the dark tribe is firmly against humans, least of all someone like you who betrayed everyone he knew so casually because he got bored,” said Yume as his phone was edging to the disconnect button.


Spike it seemed was determined to get the last word in, “Like you betrayed Kemoro because you got the big sads? Say hi to your executioners for me, they do have a connection to you,” said Spike, twisting the already existing knife about Yume’s relationship with Kemoro as he hung up instead.


“Christ, this is bad,” thought Yume as he used his magic to manifest his voice in each corner of the base, “We have a group of assassins, headed our way, pack up everything and meet me at the side tunnel by the entrance to the sea cave. Our home is no longer safe,” he said.


…….

Out on a small boat, just off the coast of the little fishing village, a motley of gathering of characters had a open cell phone broadcasting Spike and Yume’s conversation.


“Such a fascinating brick of a trinket, may I have it?” asked a small bearded rat man with a flowing mustache and big glasses, utterly covered in various odds and ends as his big haversack bulged with even more of it as a few orbs of water shined his various baubles


“You can have it as soon as each of us gets our own. People use these to talk to each other in writing or in voice, manage money and all kinds of stuff to,” said the second member of the group, a plain urbane man with blond hair and a rather handsome face as he polished both his short sword, various floating coins and keys circling him like a halo with two pairs of wings made out of floating soda cans.


“When can we, kill them? Father Skinsaw demands fate be changed with their murders,” said the third member, a orc in robes and a long war razor being sharpened by iron nails as sparks of lightning danced on the blade.


“Very soon, I believe, our leader, should be done with preparing our infantry,” said a big burly dragon man in heavy plate and a massive pair of bastard swords shrouded in flame.


“Yes, here she comes now, she must be finished just like our patron Spike was with this lot,” said the last two in unison, a pair of tengus, each with matching kukri’s and the same wind and raven themed martial outfits as from out on the side of the boat, a sodden big eared, undead goblin surfaced from the water, her ratty robes drenched with seaweed as a big rat holding a lonely pebble poked it’s head out from a wooden box filled with a bit of food and water for a trip on the waves.


“It has been arranged, I take it they have refused?” she asked acidly as the dragon man nodded, “The two tugs on your life line was the signal you asked for, have you sent the forces?” he responded in a military fashion.


“Of course, I have, evil should always work to bring ruin to others after all,” said the undead goblin with a nod.


……


For the students of the dark tribe, they were in a rabid frenzy to pack everything and get a move on.


Moera was the first to finish packing with how spartan her room were to begin with and how often they drilled themselves to be done in a hurry when the danger finally came to their doorstep.


She spied Fiamm and Erdea just about to finish and Myston and Vento were already done as she spied Gayle was busy cramming every toy and comic book he had into one single bag that was straining under the weight.


“Pathetic,” she thought to herself judgementally as the whole group’s ears all perked up at dripping water, groans and mindless shuffling down the hall where they were to join Yume.


“Our killers are here Gayle, no time to dillydally, get moving!” shouted Vento as Gayle joined them, having clearly just finished by the time Vento shouted as the students rushed down the hall.


Their first wave of foes were here, various shambling corpses and skeletons, dripping with water from having just been on the bottom of the ocean for their trip to kill the group as Moera quickly assessed their foes.


“Mostly minions but certainly quite a lot of them,” she thought as she spied them carrying various jagged tetanus causing junk and poisonous urchin spines lodged into planks of wood.


“Be careful, our foes minions seem to use poison and disease with their weapons, who here is our best healer?” she asked.


“None of us are, Yume only had us focus on offensive magic,” said Gayle as with a loud roar of wind, he sent the first wave of undead hurling back with his magic as Myston turned the water dripping across their bodies into ice.


The undead shattered on the 2nd crowd of undead behind them as Vento was up next alongside Moera, Vento running electricity through all the group as Moera turned the various bits of junk into a raging whirlwind of shrapnel, shredding zombies like fruit in a blender as the 3rd group of zombies lay before them, a 4th wave just a ways off before Master Yume Shiranui’s hidden exit.


“Got to work fast here, give me a hand, Erdea?” asked Fiamm as the wolf nodded, generating spikes from the ceiling, floor and walls to impale the mindless undead as Fiamm heating them up to finish off the zombies as they swiftly ran towards the hidden exit as it opened with just a touch of the group’s different tattoos on their bodies.


“What kept you?” asked Yume testily, busy arming the explosive runes to ensure a wave of fiery explosion.


“A lot of mooks, these guys got zombies to spare,” said Vento as the 4th group of zombies started crowding the exit.


“Arm the runes, we’ll hold em off,” said Erdea as Moera was silently aghast at this lack of respect for a master in this trying circumstance as a massive wall of stone appeared in front of the group that the zombies began shuffling towards and started to hammer on with fists and anything their hands were holding.


A surge of stone spikes from the wall impaled the first wave to attack the wall as Fiamm joined in, creating a wall of flame just in front Erdea’s wall that the zombies still continued to march into, heedless to the danger of being burned alive.


The zombies continued to pour in, no matter what the danger the students threw at them, from a wall of lightning spears by Vento, a wall of razor sharp barbed wire by Moera, a wall of raging water by Myston or a wall of Tornado’s by Gayle.


The zombies kept on coming, not caring how much of their number was shredded by each layer of defenses as the parts of the bodies continued to gum up the group’s own efforts as Yume continued to work on the runes, the most complicated part that he’d ever done.


He could hear his student’s panting from exhaustion at keeping up such sustained bursts of magic going for extended periods of time and in his hate, he realized, he made the explosion too big and complex as it used his magic extensively.


“Almost, nearly, ready! We shall leave!” he shouted as in a single colorful flash the dark tribe vanished.


…..


And so as the manor’s legacy of tragedy began in flames, it would only be fitting as it would end in flames, a massive lightning strike igniting a colorful burst of flame that scoured the hill clean as a raging torrent of elemental energy filled the zombie infested sea cave, slaying them all in a instant.


For the manor’s former residents the dark tribe, they limped away, utterly exhausted as their ride of creeping into a mcdonald’s truck beckoned as the driver stopped on the road at a gas station.


Tropical storm Gasgon, had now hit the maine coast it would seem, a storm that Gayle had seen on the news and tried to warn Yume about before being shooed away as the group of six slumped in the back of the truck, utterly exhausted as exhaustion over took them.


…..


“Hm, awfully flashy way to go, do you think they are dead? This great storm should reveal their bodies,” offered the ratfolk as hordes of various dismembered zombie and skeleton body parts surfaced on the now roiling waves instead like chum for a shark.


“Certainly not, you are our lifeline to this world, Kit, where do you suggest we go from here?” asked the dragonborn.


“We can’t go to Ixtil, the people are certainly wide alert now and we’d look quite suspicious as is. Perhaps we should try down the coast to the province of New York to supply ourselves in modern tech items as we plan our next move? The dark tribe will return in time,” offered the human rogue, stroking his chin in thought.


“Good idea, Eris, what do you think?” offered the ratfolk.


“We go with Kit’s plan for now, we don’t have enough undead to slaughter this town… yet,” suggested the goblin as the group sailed off into the lighter part of the storm on their fishing boat.