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Kindred Build Guide by toxicure

Support Kindred Support?!

Support Kindred Support?!

Updated on January 2, 2021
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League of Legends Build Guide Author toxicure Build Guide By toxicure 31 8 58,751 Views 5 Comments
31 8 58,751 Views 5 Comments League of Legends Build Guide Author toxicure Kindred Build Guide By toxicure Updated on January 2, 2021
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Runes: Standard

Grasp of the Undying
Font of Life

Presence of Mind
Legend: Alacrity

+10% Attack Speed
+6 Armor
+6 Armor


1 2 3 4 5
LoL Summoner Spell: Exhaust


LoL Summoner Spell: Flash


Threats & Synergies

Threats Synergies
Extreme Major Even Minor Tiny
Show All
None Low Ok Strong Ideal
Extreme Threats
Ideal Synergies
Ideal Strong Ok Low None

Champion Build Guide

Kindred Support?!

By toxicure
Hello! I am support main and I really like making weird, fun builds. I can come up with entire build focusing on a very small part of the kit, and make it unique. This build I made is very fun and I hope you like it as well. Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful time on the Rift!
Pros & Cons
  • Strong Lategame
  • Tanky
  • Range
  • DPS
  • Game-changing Ult
  • Fun
  • Weak Earlygame
  • Difficult To Learn
  • "Game-changing Ult" (double edged sword)
  • people will often dodge games when you pick them :'(
Ability Explanation


Kindred can mark targets to Hunt. Successfully completing a Hunt permanently empowers Kindred's basic abilities. Every 4 Hunts completed also increases Kindred's basic attack range.


Kindred tumbles and shoots up to three arrows at nearby targets. She gains bonus attack speed for few seconds. Casting WOLF'S FRENZYor dashing inside of Wolf's territory will reduce the cooldown of DANCE OF ARROWS.


Wolf enrages and attacks enemies around him. Lamb passively gains stacks by moving and attacking. When fully charged, Lamb's next attack restores health.


Lamb fires a carefully placed shot, slowing the target. If Lamb attacks the target two more times, her third attack instead directs Wolf to pounce on the enemy, savaging them for massive damage.


Lamb grants all living things inside a zone a respite from death. Until the effect ends, nothing can die. At the end, units are healed.
Play style

As Kindred, you'll play aggressively in Mid- to Frontline because you are TANKY. Stick with your ADC, bruiser or mage with CC, like Lux . In game you want to catch enemies with Monting Dread slowing and killing them.

You will take Iceborn Gauntlet to slow enemies even more with your attacks. One of best things about Kindred is their ability to deal with tanky shi*s that deal tones of damage like Cho' Gath . Use Lamb's Respite when you or your allays are low on health and SHRED ENEMIES TO PIECES.



Steel Shouldergauards
- gold generating item that later turns into warding item

2 Health Potions
- potion for healing when low on health

Warding Totem
- plane vision item

First Back

- bonus AD & on hit effect

Boots of Speed
- movement speed

Control Ward
- vision

Essential Items

- AD item with mana and great passive when it turns into Muramana

Runaan's Hurricane
- attack speed, critical chance and movement speed;
passive: Winds Fury { grants two bolts when basic attacking and they apply on hit effects.

Breserker's Greaves
-boots with attack speed

Oracle Lens
- vision denial tool

Late Game Items

Iceborn gauntlet

- mana,armor and cooldown reduction;
passive: Spellblade { after using ability, your next attack slows enemies in radius (radius increases with armor)

Trinity Force
- mana, health, attack speed, attack damage, movement speed, cooldown reduction
passive: Rage { basic attacks grant 10 movement speed on hit for 2 seconds. Killing a unit grants 30 movement speed for 2 seconds;
passive: Spellblade { after using ability, your next attack deals bonus damage

Essence Reaver
- attack damage, critical chance, cooldown reduction;
passive: {basic attacks restore 1.5% of missing mana;
- sell support item to buy it

Farsight Alteration
- long range warding tool

Additional options

Ionian Boots of Lucidity
- buy them if you are going for Unsealed Spellbook ;
- boots with cooldown reduction;
passive: {grants 10% cooldown reduction on summoner spells

Mercury's Treads
- buy them if you are going against champions with lots of CC ;
- boots with magic resist and tenacity

Zeke's Covergence
- sell boots to buy it;
- armor, cooldown reuction, mana, magic resist;
- passive: {Casting your ultimate near your ally summons a local frost storm for 10 seconds. As the storm rages, nearby enemies are slowed by 20% and your ally's attacks burn their targets for 30% bonus magic damage over 2 seconds
- passive: {Frostfire Covenant: Slowing a burning enemy ignites your frost storm to deal 40 magic damage per second and slow by 40% instead for 3 seconds

Phantom Dancer

- take instead of Essence Reaver if you fell behind in game;
- attack speed, critical chance, movemnent speed;
- passive: Spectral Waltz {for 2 seconds after basic attacking an enemy champion, you gain 7% movement speed and pass through units;
- passive: Lifeline {if you would take damage that would reduce your health below 30%, gain a shield that absorbs up to 240-600 (scaling starts at level 9, ends at level 18) damage for 2 seconds
Summoner Spells
ALWAYS take flash.
The reasons why you take it are simple:
  • secure kills
  • reposition
  • dodge enemy abilities
  • escape ganks, ambushes and death

Take Ignite if you are confident in your jungle clear & dodging enemy abilities.
It is very useful against healing abilities and items like Warmog's Armor.
It also helps at securing kills.

Take Cleanse instead of Ignite if you are going against champions with lots of CC (crowd control)
Champions with CC are:
  • Leona
  • Maokai
  • Lissandra
  • Pyke
  • Blitzcrank

Smite is great for beginners and monster mark stackers . It is absolutely necessary for second Rune page.

Standard Runes


Grasp of the Undying
Font of Life
Presence of Mind
Legend: Alacrity
10% Attack Speed
6 Armor
6 Armor

Press the Attack

Press the Attack is used for finishing out enemies using MOUNTING DREAD and bonus damage from the rune.

Presence of Mind

Presence of Mind is used for pure mana and buffering Muramana .

Legend: Alacrity

Legend alacrity is used for pure stat of attack speed which is invaluable for marksman like Kindred.

Last Stand

Last stand is useful for dealing tons of damage while in Lamb's Respite .

Manaflow Band

Manaflow band is used for bonus mana and buffering Muramana .


Water walking is used for better roaming (because of bonus movement speed in river)
and bonus AD to help you with killing Rift Scuttler , Dragon ,
Rift Herald & Baron Nashor for Marks.

10% attack speed
adaptive damage
any of defensive stats depending on situation:
health - enemy mixed damage
armor - enemy physical damage
magic resist - enemy magic damage
Lane Phase / Early Game
Kindred is squishy, so their early game CAN be tough (it is't always like that). You want to start with wolf'sfrenzy Wolf's Frenzy [W] as soon as possible so your passive stacks fully. You want to start phase aggressively to either burn enemy's summoner spells, force them to back, or an early kill. Wolf attacks the closest enemy or enemy that you attack, so place him behind caster minions. When Scuttle Crab spawns on your side, simply go to river, ask jungler for help (if possible), and you don't need to kill it for mark. If it spawns top side, either stay on lane (if behind), or go back and then go to river. Keep in mind that you have opportunity to gank! For more farm oriented style it's the best to take Unsealed Spellbook. For the rest of the phase try poking, start chase if enemy is low with Mounting Dread [E]. And lastly WARD. You go in jungle for mark, WARD; you haven't seen enemy jungler for a while, WARD; you roam; WARD.
Mid Game / Team Fighting
work in progress
Late Game
work in progress
"Tell me again, little Lamb, which things are ours to take?"
"All things, dear Wolf."

Separate, but never parted, Kindred represents the twin essences of death. Lamb's bow offers a swift release from the mortal realm for those who accept their fate. Wolf hunts down those who run from their end, delivering violent finality within his crushing jaws. Though interpretations of Kindred's nature vary across Runeterra, every mortal must choose the true face of their death.

Eternal Hunters

Kindred is the white embrace of nothingness and the gnashing of teeth in the dark. Shepherd and the butcher, poet and the primitive, they are one and both. When caught on the edge of life, louder than any trumpeting horn, it is the hammering pulse at one's throat that calls Kindred to their hunt. Stand and greet Lamb's silvered bow and her arrows will lay you down swiftly. If you refuse her, Wolf will join you for his merry hunt, where every chase runs to its brutal end.

For as long as its people have known death, Kindred has stalked Valoran. When the final moment comes, it is said a true Demacian will turn to Lamb, taking the arrow, while through the shadowed streets of Noxus, Wolf leads the hunt. In the snows of the Freljord, before going off to fight, some warbands 'kiss the Wolf', vowing to honor his chase with the blood of their enemies. After each Harrowing, the town of Bilgewater gathers to celebrate its survivors and honor those granted a true death by Lamb and Wolf.

Denying Kindred is to deny the natural order of things. There are but a wretched few who have eluded these hunters. This perverse escape is no sanctuary, for it only holds a waking nightmare. Kindred waits for those locked in the undeath of the Shadow Isles, for they know all will eventually fall to Lamb's bow or Wolf's teeth.

The earliest dated appearance of the eternal hunters is from a pair of ancient masks, carved by unknown hands into the gravesites of people long-forgotten. But to this day, Lamb and Wolf remain together, and they are always Kindred.



The battle spilled over like a feast before them. Such delicious life - so many to end, so many to hunt! Wolf paced in the snow while Lamb danced lithely from sword edge to spear tip, the red-blooded butchery never staining her pale coat.

"There is courage and pain here, Wolf. Many will gladly meet their end." She drew up her bow and let loose an arc of swift finality.

The last breath of a soldier came with a ragged consent as his shield gave way to a heavy axe. Stuck in his heart was a single white arrow, shimmering with ethereal brilliance.

"Courage bores me" the great black wolf grumbled as he tracked through the snow. "I am hungry and eager to chase."

"Patience" she murmured in his shaggy ear. As soon as the words left her, Wolf's shoulders tensed and his body dropped low to the ground.

"I smell fear" he said, trembling with excitement.

Across the muddied field of snow, a squire - too young for battle, but with blade in hand, nonetheless - saw that Kindred had marked all in the valley.

"I want the tender-thing. Does it see us, Lamb?"

"Yes, but it must choose. Feed the Wolf, or embrace me."

The battle turned its steel toward the squire. He now stared at the roiling tide of bravery and desperation coming for him. This would be his last dawn. In that instant, the boy made his choice. He would not go willingly. Until his last breath, he would run.

Wolf snapped in the air and rolled his face in the snow like a new pup.

"Yes, dear Wolf." Lamb's voice echoed like a string of pearly bells. "Begin your hunt."

With that, Wolf bounded across the field after the youth, a howl thundering through the valley. His shadowed body swept over the remains of the newly dead and their useless, shattered weapons.

The squire turned and ran for the woods until thick black trunks passed in a blur. He pressed on, the frozen air burning his lungs. He looked once more for his hunter, but could see nothing but the darkening trees. The shadows closed tightly around him and he suddenly realized there was no escape. It was the black body of Wolf that was everywhere at once. The chase was at its end. Wolf buried his sharp teeth in the squire's neck, tearing out ribbons of vibrant life.

Wolf reveled in the boy's scream and crunching bones. Lamb, who had trailed behind, laughed to see such sport. Wolf turned and asked, in a voice more growl than speech, "Is this music, Lamb?"

"It is to you" she answered.

"Again", Wolf licked the last drop of the youth's life from his canine jaws. "I want to chase again, little Lamb."

"There are always more" she whispered. "Until the day there is only Kindred."

"And then will you run from me?"

Lamb turned back to the battle. "I would never run from you, dear Wolf."



Magga was about to die for the fourteenth time. She had bitten into a rotten apple–yet again. Its putrid flesh had, as always, infected her with carrionshade. The actress went through the motions of stumbling to her death while shouting her final words for all to hear.

“Oh, but how wondrous a dream is life? Only now—too late!—do I wake to see its myriad of splendors,” she bemoaned.

With a puff of smoke and glittering powder, Kindred made a grand entrance upon the stage. As per tradition, they were played by one actor, his head covered by two opposing masks. He approached Magga, the white mask of the Lamb facing her.

“Hark! Do I hear a plea for my keenest arrow? Come, child, let the warmth of your heart fade into the cold embrace of oblivion.”

Magga refused, as she had thirteen times before. Any nuance in her performance was buried beneath the ear-splitting delivery of her scream. On cue, Lamb spun around, revealing the second mask–that of the Wolf.

“There is naught ye can do to stave off thine end,” growled Wolf.

“I am but a poor young maiden! Please, let my piteous cry fall on all four of thine ears.”

The audience seemed enraptured by the unfolding dramatics of the Orphellum Mechanicals. With the twin threats of plague and war on the tongues of those in neighboring protectorates, death dramas were all the rage.

Denji, the actor portraying both Lamb and Wolf, descended upon the young actress, awkwardly baring wooden fangs. Magga offered her neck. At the threat of Wolf’s bite, she triggered the device sewn into her blouse’s collar. Ribbons of red fabric unspooled to the delighted pips and yelps of the audience. They’d gotten what they paid for.

By the time the Mechanicals had staggered back to their wagon and set off in the direction of Needlebrook, there were no stars to be seen. Instead, a veil of clouds stretched across the night sky.

Needlebrook always delivered a good audience, Illusian, the company’s owner and sole dramaturg, explained once more. He staggered around, drunk on his own accolades—as well as the wine Parr had grifted from the locals.

The night wore on, and the troupe had descended into bickering. Tria and Denji lambasted their playwright over the quality of his plots, which fell into a predictable structure: tragedy strikes maiden, death finds maiden, death takes maiden. Illusian argued that complicated plots detracted from a good death scene.

Magga, the youngest of the bunch, agreed with Tria and Denji’s diagnosis, but kept her mouth shut. Had she not stowed away in the wandering troupe’s wagon, she would certainly be somewhere far more miserable. Luckily for her, the Mechanicals had recently lost several actors due to Illusian’s insistence on complete artistic control. Because of his attitude—and obvious mediocrity—they were facing a drought of fresh faces. And so, the Orphellum Mechanicals agreed to contract Magga to die in all their dramatics for the foreseeable future. For which she had been grateful.

Illusian was still smarting from Denji and Tria’s words when he motioned to Parr, their wagoner, to stop and make camp. The inebriated auteur set out his bedroll in pride of place next to the wagon. He then threw the rest of the bedding into the long grass nearby.

“Ungrateful players can sleep in the wilds,” Illusian spat, “where they shall hopefully find their manners.”

The rest of the troupe built a fire and swapped stories. Denji and Tria had fallen asleep in each other’s arms while whispering potential names for their unborn child into each other’s ears. They had nattered on about the day the traveling company would stop in Jandelle, a town so perfect and peaceful they would set aside their vagabond ways to raise their child.

Magga moved closer to the crackling fire so its pops and whistles would drown out the irksome affections of her traveling companions.

But sleep never came. Instead, Magga tossed and turned, thinking about the looks on the audience’s faces as the coiled spurts of blood unfurled from her neckline. A pretty maiden struck dead by her own naïveté was all the theatrical pomp Illusian could muster, but the crowd lusted after the gruesome façade.

Eventually, she left her bedroll and set out into the woods to soothe her unsettled mind.

In the dead of night, Magga came upon a low grassy mound with slabs of standing stone at its base. Although she could not read the inscriptions, her fingers traced the familiar etching of Kindred’s twin masks. This was a place of the dead, a burial site built long ago.

She felt a chill on the back of her neck that compelled her to look up. She was not alone. Magga immediately understood what she saw, for she’d encountered a crude impersonation of them night after night. But poor Denji couldn’t begin to instill the dread washing over Magga. Before her, perched on a weathered barrow-archway, was Lamb herself, flanked by her ever-faithful counterpart, Wolf.

“I hear a beating heart!” said Wolf, his black eyes twinkling with delight. “May I have it?”

“Perhaps,” replied Lamb. “I sense she is afraid. Speak, beautiful one. Tell us your name.”

“I-I would have yours first,” stammered Magga, stepping backward. Her slow escape was halted by the speedy Wolf, who materialized unsettlingly close behind her.

He spoke directly in her ear. “We have many names.”

“In the West, I am Ina to his Ani,” said Lamb. “In the East, Farya to his Wolyo. But we are Kindred everywhere. I am always Lamb to Wolf, and he is always Wolf to Lamb.”

Wolf reared up and sniffed at the air.

“She is playing a boring game,” said Wolf. “Let us play a new game, one of chasing and running and biting.”

“She is not playing, dear Wolf,” said the Lamb. “She is frightened and has lost her own name. It hides behind her lips, afraid to come out. Worry not, dear child, I have found your name. We know it as you know us, Magga.”

“P-please,” Magga stammered. “Tonight is not a very good night for—”

Wolf’s great pink tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, and he proceeded to cackle.

“All nights are good nights for pouncing,” said Wolf, laughing.

“All days are, too,” Lamb said. “With light comes a clear shot.”

“There is no moon tonight!” cried Magga. She used what Illusian had taught her—to gesture grand, so those in the back could see her movements. “It is hidden by a blanket of clouds, tucked away from my eyes and yours. Without the moon, what would be the last thing I would see?”

“We see the moon,” replied Lamb, as she caressed her fabled bow. “It is always there.”

“There are no stars!” said Magga, trying again, this time gesturing smaller and speaking quieter. “No menagerie of twinkling diamonds, glittering in the midnight hue. What more beautiful view could one hope for whence one meets Lamb and Wolf?”

“This Magga-thing is playing a new game,” growled Wolf. “It is called ‘stalling.’”

Wolf stopped moving and cocked his head to the side. He turned his sideways snout toward Magga before speaking. “Can we play ‘Chasing the Magga-Thing and Bite Her to Bits?’?” Wolf clacked his fangs together loudly for effect.

“Let us ask her,” said Lamb. “Magga! Do you prefer Wolf’s chase, or my arrow?”

Magga was trembling now. Her eyes raced to take in every last detail of the world around her. It wasn’t such a bad place to depart. There was grass. There were trees. There was the ancient archway. There was stillness to the air.

“I would prefer Lamb’s arrow,” she said, looking at the rough crusts of bark on the trees. “I’ll imagine myself climbing to the highest boughs, like when I was a child. Only this time, I will never stop climbing. Is that what it is like to go with you?”

“No,” said Lamb, “though it is a nice thought. Fear not, little maiden, we are just having our fun. You have come to us tonight; we have not come for you.”

“I cannot chase Magga-thing,” said Wolf, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. “But there are other things nearby. Other things ripe for the chasing and the biting. Hurry, Lamb. I am hungry.”

“For now, know that your theatrics have pleased us, and we will watch them until the day we meet again.”

Wolf passed over Magga and disappeared into the woods. The shadowy beast snaked away through fields of tall grass. Magga looked back toward the weathered barrow. Lamb was gone.

The actress fled.

When Magga returned to the encampment, she found it in utter ruin. The wagon she had only just begun to call home had been ransacked and reduced to a smoldering husk. Bits of clothing and ruined props lay strewn across the campsite.

She found Denji’s body near where he’d slept. He had died protecting Tria, whose corpse lay behind him. Judging from the trails of blood, their deaths had not been slow. They had dragged themselves toward each other, their fingers entwined in one last caress before death.

Magga noticed that Illusian had managed to kill two of the bandits before being burnt to a crisp along with Parr in the wagon.

The only thing that remained untouched were Denji’s Lamb and Wolf masks. Magga picked them up and held them in her hands. She placed the Lamb mask over her own eyes and heard the voice of Wolf.

“Chase the Magga-thing.”

The maiden ran the distance to Needlebrook, never once looking back.

The Golden Round was filled to the brim with a sea of twinkling eyes, all glittering in excitement at the velvet curtain. The king sat in the theater with the queen and their advisers, all eagerly awaiting the onset of the dramatics. Everyone hushed as the black curtain lifted to reveal the actors.

Magga sat in a quiet dressing room under the stage. She heard the crowd fall silent as she studied herself in the mirror. The luster of youth had faded from her eyes years ago, and left her with a long shock of silver running through her hair.

“Madame!” said the stagehand. “You’re not in costume yet.”

“No, child,” Magga said, “I only dress at the last moment.”

“It is the last moment,” said the young stagehand, holding the two final pieces of Magga’s costume: the same Lamb and Wolf masks from her days with the Orphellum Mechanicals.

“May your performance be blessed tonight,” the stagehand said.

Magga prepared to leave for the stage. She slipped the masks over her head. The old chill from the dark barrow crept down her spine. She welcomed it—as always.

She enthralled the audience as she glided onto the stage, embodying Lamb’s graceful movements. She thrilled the crowd with her rendition of Wolf’s playful savagery. She, as the twin deaths personified, eased the suffering of her fellow actors, or ripped it from their throats, until the crowd stood on its feet and erupted in thunderous applause.

It was true. All audiences loved a good death, and they loved Magga’s more than any other.

Even the king and queen were on their feet in praise of her work.

But Magga heard no applause and saw no ovations. She didn’t feel the stage beneath her feet, nor the hands of her fellow mummers in hers as they bowed low. All she felt was a sharp pain in her chest.

When Magga looked out over the audience, every single face was either a lamb or a wolf.

A Good Death

Listen to Their Tale

The Lamb and the Wolf

Kindred, The Eternal Hunters Theme

work in progress

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