A/N: And here it is. I have been kind of avoiding working on rewriting this monster of a fanfic for a few years now, however, it is finally time to get started on overhauling it. If you cannot already tell, this fanfic is getting a COMPLETE facelift. I am working on trying to change just about everything about this fanfiction, and it is going to end up being a bit of a doozy. New concept art is going to be made for this, as well as a complete overhaul of the characters. From the Prologue alone, you can tell this is going to be quite a different fanfiction from the original, but I do hope everyone will enjoy the changes coming henceforth.
To explain some of Krogan's new quirks to my older readers- hello yes I see you back there- I have developed a lot more in depth headcanons about Krogan and his physiology. Krogan is part lycanwing.
- He is 7 feet 4 inches tall (or 223 cm for my non American friends). He has a third eyelid, and hypersensitive senses that are 20x that of the average human's.
- His sense of smell is on par with that of a bloodhound's, and his eyes have an extremely advanced tapetum, or the membrane in one's eyes that allows your vision to work better at night. As such, his eyes do gleam green in low light levels.
- Krogan is also about 2x as strong as the peak man. He can break a human skull in his bare hand, which has a hand span of roughly 13-14 inches from thumb to pinkie when stretched out.
That should be all, now on to the fanfiction:)
The sound of rain in the distance echoed along the walls of the cave. Water dripped through cracks and crevices that brought soft noise pattering through the tunnels.
The man laid, curled into a corner. His short, ebony hair matted down to his skull. Blood congealed to his lips, and the torn remains of his clothes hung from him like a drape.
Unconsciousness was yet another dull factor in the back of his head. It ebbed and flowed through his thoughtless mind, a dark ooze that consumed each of his waking thoughts and moments.
The wind whistling through the cavern made him stir. He hacked, coughing up mucus and blood all the same. The throbbing in his head was a constant source of chatter. It branded his body with sharp whips of bright agony.
And yet, he began to filter off into a dream.
─── ∙ ~𓁹~ ∙ ───
The minute seconds before the dragon landed and it burst through the ceiling, spilling fire across the Hall of Chieftains was enough for Krogan's heart to stammer through his chest like a wilting butterfly.
The young man, barely over the age of 15, just growing into his lanky frame quivered against the dark sky. The wind bit into his shoulders as the sounds of screaming erupted across the horizon, burdening the late evening's stars with the smiting of a thousand individuals being sent straight to Valhalla.
It wasn't right, of course, is it, his thoughts milled icily, as he brought his free hand closer to the sword he had gripped in one white-knuckled hand. No, it isn't, Krogan reasoned with himself. His fingers wrapped around his hilt as Master returned, and he bowed his head respectfully.
"Go take out the others, Thrall," Master sneered. The call of the Grey One, the great Bewilderbeast started to shiver across his mind, raising hairs on the back of the boy's neck.
"Yes Sire," he replied. Curtly, a dragon nosed up underneath his hand, the rumblehorn stretching its wings as the two free fell towards the ocean. As they landed, the boy sprung into action, sword lashing out.
A man charged at him through the flames, raising a sword, but with the strength and the size he had on him, the boy dodged.
His blade sliced through the man's back, and his hand found purchase on the side of the man's arm. Gripping. Tighter. Tighter. Krogan screamed as he tore the man's arm off.
The chieftain screamed out in pain as Krogan slammed into him. His weight shoved the elder to the flaming planks, before he stomped on the man's head. Dark billows of smoke shot up through the sky around him, burning and waging a war against the man himself.
He was but a starkly outlined shape in the shadows, his pupils seeming to glow against the low light as Krogan turned his head to the sky, and let out a long, sharp cry, a dragon's call that rang in the dead of the night.
It was time to hunt, it was time to seek and destroy.
─── ∙ ~𓁹~ ∙ ───
Waiting in the shadows, the man gasped. He shot up, hands floundering in the darkness as his eyes focused into the shade around himself. He panted loudly, gaze gleaming in the darkness.
It is too dark, he supplied, as the adrenaline from his dream began to fade. Krogan's gaze shifted around the room. His legs were weak, his body felt too heavy. Still exhausted. Still broken, his body was.
The throbbing in his eye sockets did not abate, it did not go away, either, as it firmly pulsed into the back of his head, rattling his eyes in his head with a brilliant formation of stars.
Moaning, the man tilted his head back into the cold wall behind himself. He blinked. It should not be this dark.
The water dripping to his left makes his head pound in tune with the splatters against the rock. The rain rages high above him, even though he cannot see the sky, he knows it is a stewing mess of dark clouds circling around the island's shores.
His brows cinch together, as he parted his full lips with a gentle moan. He blinked his eyes.
His head dropped.
Why can I not see? He thought to himself. His lips quivered. Darkness began to envelop him in warm arms once more. Shadow. Blaze. Burn.
Rest.
─── ∙ ~𓁹~ ∙ ───
The air feels like ice when Krogan's consciousness once more stretches into awareness. It was a sharp tone against his back and his spine, long tendrils curving down his body, his bare skin trembling against the stone floor.
He moaned. The noise echoed hollowly off the walls of the barren room. He could hear the sound echoing outside the room, bouncing down the walls and the ceiling as it traveled down the hallway.
He rolled his head against the floor as his eyes cracked open blearily. No adrenaline lingered from yet another dream, and yet he could hear his heartbeat thudding loudly in his chest as the sound traveled up his frame.
Krogan shifted his legs slightly, bending them at the knees, and then laying them on their side, where they tugged awkwardly on the muscles of his hips. He hissed softly in pain, before he slowly peeled his eyes open.
The giant of a man was ready for his eyes to be assaulted by blinding, abhorrently violent stabs of light.
Ones that Krogan himself was completely certain would try to rip his eyes to shreds that they would tear his corneas open.
There was no light, however.
Only darkness.
I still cannot see, he thought. Odd. Sleep still clung to him despite everything else as he shifted his legs once more, feeling his shoulders brush against the cold, slightly damp stone floor.
The smell of a recent rain still hung in the noticeably stale cavern air. The sound of the air groaning against empty cavern walls was odd. There should have been sounds of life, should there not? Or at least be sounds of people milling about outside the door, which according to his hearing, was ajar a small amount.
Then why can't I see? He thought to himself. I'm not wearing a blindfold… I don't think I am, at least, right? Krogan's hands reached up to brush against the skin of his face, the space around his eyes was completely barren of cloth, as he had previously expected.
I am supposed to be in the base, Krogan thought to himself. He widened his eyes as he sat up, dragging his knees to his chest. Is there not supposed to be life? I cannot hear anything.
An ear twitched, as the giant of a man peeled his full lips back off of his teeth, and then yawned, stretching his jaws out with a long, low noise in the back of his throat. It rolls and echoes off of the walls, as he
He swallowed thickly, as he started to sit up. He rubbed at his throbbing temples as his head was rolled against the back of the wall that he was laying against.
The giant of a man groans softly. His hand brushed against his burning cheek, and he quickly pulled his hand away from his face with a sharp hiss of pain and agony.
"Fuck," he swore to himself. His voice was a mere rasp from disuse, as it bore down on his throat, seeming as if it wanted to tear him to shreds.
The burning discomfort in his eye sockets continued to dig and sway at his seemingly albeit quite… broken vision. He groaned again, fingering around in the darkness that enveloped himself blindly.
The floor beneath his worn palms is covered in knicks and sharp areas from where it had been rippled up, from either weapons, or dragon fire. The second of the two being of which was the most likely, of course, considering as Krogan perked his ears and listened, the solid, stone room had an odd, tinny echo to it, and the stone was polished in some places.
Marble of some kind, made to keep dragons in the cell, just like the now half-open door.
His mind started to spiral into thought as he slowly brushed his fingers along the marble walls behind himself. His hand found purchase on a metal rod attached to the wall, and, seeing as he could use it to his advantage, he wrapped his fist around it in a white-knuckled grip, and tried to pull himself to his feet.
The bar shifted, and with a sharp growl, metal scraped against metal, a tail rattling against yet more metal. Sharp, needle-like spines ran a sharp cut through Krogan's hand, and he cried out sharply in pain, gripping onto the wound.
Krogan shot to his feet, banging his head on something hard and metal above him. With yet another cry, the man turned his attention downwards.
Despite the fact that the grit of the stone now dug into his bleeding hand, the giant of a man turned his attention towards… whatever it was on the wall.
Krogan felt his sides heaving as he panted heavily.
The giant of a man reached up, pressing his bloody palm to his forehead to try and alleviate the pain blossoming in his head temples once more, however, the hit to his head had made his eye sockets throb worse, digging pain into his face. The feeling of the warm blood smearing across his face made him shiver.
It doesn't matter, he thought. Krogan took a deep inhale through his nose. Every scent in the air was amplified. Amplified to insane amounts. Stone, his own blood, the scent of distress that lingered in the back of his scent profile.
But moreover, was the scent of the dragon. He turned his head back towards the metal thing- a cage, fixed on the wall, perhaps? And the creature inside of it.
He took another inhale, and he blinked, trying to gain an idea on the scent profile of the dragon.
The dragon made a low noise, and Krogan tilted his head to the side. Razor sharp, metallic scaled tail, and the noise it made…
Razorwhip? He questioned. Why am I in a dragon storage cell with a Razorwhip? He shifted, moving slowly as he placed a hand to his cotton-filled head. His memory was a bit… fuzzy, he supposed.
He slowly shifted, reaching up to steady his aching body against the bars of the cage. Again, the dragon hissed at him. He could hear their spines rattling, and as he tilted his head up, he blinked, his nictitating membrane sliding across his eyes.
Friendly, he offered in the form of a soft rumble. At the creature. He heard their neck plates shifting, and their scent offered a bit of confusion.
Still, Krogan's body throbbed as he gave a deep sigh of relief. He was still out of breath.
What is happening to me? He thought to himself. The giant of a man brushed his non-bleeding hand through his hair, taking a shaky sigh. His sides still heaved, as he tried to steady his breathing.
Giving a small gasp, the man placed his head against the bars of the cage. His eyes were wide, as they glanced around.
The dragon gave a soft groan at him, and he could feel their breath on the top of his head.
"Ugh," he mumbled, as he slowly shifted again, pulling himself to his aching feet, despite the protest of his knees. His shirtless back stung as he straightened himself out to his full height. His back screamed at him as his spine straightened.
Blood dribbled down his russet skin.
"Alright, come on, Krogan," the man hissed to himself. He shifted, letting go of the bars of the cage. He might be back for the dragon, perhaps. There should be a light or something outside this room, right?
Krogan turned his head, and fumbled his left hand first along the cave bars, following it, and placing his free hand out in front of himself.
Light, he thought. There has to be light somewhere, right? He swallowed thickly. He could always use the Razorwhip, however, would they really follow his instructions yet?
No, probably not. The man grunted in the back of his throat as he moved his hands along the cage first. His fingers of his right hand finally grasped onto the marble wall in front of him.
I should be resting, he thought wistfully as he wheezed through his mouth. He licked his lips, as his fingers wrapped around the cold, dragon-proof metal of the doorway. But there are better things to be doing right now.
He tugged himself closer, forcing his fingers through the gap as he shoved the door open with his free hand. Of course, as what should have been a completely normal thing, where there should have been light, there was none.
Krogan blinked. He inhaled sharply as he limped further into the hallway.
No. He could smell the burning of torches. He could hear them flickering weakly against the howling winds of the cell. He sniffed, through his nose. The man gasped, his eyes shivering as a tickle began to tremble in his nose.
With a sneeze, and then a sharp cough, as he stumbled out into the hallway. He blinked slowly, his knees shivering against his weight. He took another inhale. The base was still, except for the sound of dripping water in the distance, the whistling of the wind through the tunnels.
There were no smells of life, and he couldn't see. Everything was dark, except for the occasional small pinpoint of light in the depths of his eyes. With yet another blink, Krogan once again turned towards the cage, and he instinctively wormed his way to his left, grasping at the cage with a grunt.
Release the dragon, he thought instinctively. I need something. Something to help me get through the tunnels, because I cannot see. I won't be able to get out without them…
Wait, where is my dragon? Krogan paused, as he turned to the door again. I- she should be fine. Basil can handle herself, she can, she can. Krogan reassured himself as his fingers wrapped around the door of the cage.
"Come on," he grunted, as he fisted his right hand around the door. The dragon proof metal creaked underneath his grip as he yanked his body back against the door.
Krogan roared in pain as the effort of the strain began to rip against his wounds, however with a shriek that pierced his eardrums, the door shredded off from its hinges, and he painted as he dropped it to the floor. With a noise in the back of his throat, Krogan leaned forwards, reaching a hand out to the dragon.
The Razorwhip sniffed his hand inquisitively, and then slowly leaned their silver, horned nose into his palm. The metallic scales were smooth, yet warm, just as Krogan knew them to be- strong, smooth, and warm.
"Thank you," Krogan panted, and in response, the Razorwhip cooed at him in response.
His hand started to loosen its vice grip on the metal door to the cage, which slipped from his hand, and clattered to the floor after a moment. His bloody palm dripped red crimson down the dragon's snout, of whom, didn't seem to mind.
I don't know why you are being so trusting, but thank you. Krogan breathed through his nose, as he ran his hand down the creature's nose, and then he started to pull away from the creature. At least I can help you get out, and you can help me figure out what the Hel is happening in this Thor-Forsaken place.
It is a wistful thought, of course, as the dragon steps out of the cage, leaning their side into him. Thankfully, Krogan takes the offer, wrapping a muscular arm around the dragon's spiky neck.
This is a large Razorwhip, he mused to himself. They were taller than he expected, going around above his shoulders when they had their neck level with the floor, and their spines were quite tall. Perhaps a large female. Why are you away from your nest?
Krogan pushed the thought away as he started to limp towards the door. The Razorwhip kept him propped up against their side as the two made it through the threshold of the door. Every moment that Krogan took in, where his feet echoed hollowly against the empty caverns, made his heart shiver.
He was blind, wasn't he?
The thought was a horrible, intrusive thought that brought a shaking wheeze out of his throat. He gasped through his lips as he felt his heart beginning to hammer loudly in his chest.
His throat tightened in terror. Pain slammed into his chest over and over again, and he felt his legs growing weak.
Hammering. Noise hammered into his head. Panic.
I'm not blind, I can't be, right? He thought swiftly. If I'm blind I'm… I am useless… Drago will dispose of me. Is that why everything is empty? Did they abandon me? It began to click in his head. Why everything was burning and aching . He was weak because they wanted him to be. They wanted him to die, didn't they? Because he was useless .
Tears began to bubble up in his eyes, as he dropped onto his knees. The Razorwhip stopped moving, however they flexed a wing. Razorwhip's were odd dragons, and when the creature pressed their nose into his chest, he wrapped a hand around their nose.
"Hello again," he greeted warily. He glanced up, towards the pinpricks of light in the distance. Krogan's voice shook, barely on the verge of tears. At least, more spilling down his cheeks. His throat was tight with emotion. He could feel the pain beginning to burgeon across his chest.
His heart flipped in his chest. Hungry. Tired. Thirsty. His needs had to be met, and he was still bleeding, which wasn't good, either. His stomach cramped as he started to stand up.
Push forwards. He had to push forward.
The hot tears boiled down his cheeks. The Razorwhip was once again at his side. Their wing pressed against him, as they shifted around to his front.
Stop. It was enough for him to pause, as the dragon came closer, sniffing him. Their breath was hot against his bare chest, which they then turned, once more circling him, before they nudged his legs with their head.
With a grunt, his legs collapsed onto the creature's neck, and his head hit their back plating. Slowly, Krogan shifted, and then settled himself in between their shoulders. Once comfortable, the dragon began to move.
Do they know I am blind? He thought to himself. He started to shift, so that he had his legs wrapping around their torso, underneath their abdomen where their wings connected with the base of their tail, and so that his arms were around their neck.
This is easier, he thought to himself. It makes it easier to travel faste, as well. A hum curled from the back of his throat, however the sound still shook. He felt the threat of tears to want to spill down his cheeks.
I can't cry. There is more important matters at hand than focusing on my own despicable uselessness. Krogan twitched his ears, listening as the Razorwhip moved through the tunnels. Based on the sound that the air made as it passed through caverns, Krogan could easily judge the size of them.
At the moment, they were clearly in a tunnel, and one that curved far back into the plateau of a mountain that the base had been made into. A natural formation caused originally by some long-dead subspecies of Whispering Death, if the fossils that occasionally dotted the walls in the caverns were anything to go by.
Krogan snorted, reaching up slightly to take a… look- right. He unhooked his hands from around the dragon's neck, and then paused. He swallowed. Despite himself, he had a feeling he knew where he was, based on the burbling spring of mineral water not sounding far away.
If he could just get his hands on a knife or a spear, he could use the blade to staunch the bleeding on his hand by using the fabric of his pants.
The Razorwhip paused as Krogan shifted off of their back, thudding to the ground. Unable to see his trajectory, Krogan landed on his face, and he huffed deeply through his nose, before his body throbbed.
Shaking himself off, Krogan limped on shaking, weak legs, towards where he knew the wall was, and trailed his hand along it until he came upon the opening to a cavern. Of course, as he stepped inside, Krogan tripped. With a yelp, he started to fall, only for the familiarly strong, metallic scales to come to support him.
Desperately, Krogan hooked an arm around the dragon's neck.
With a huff, the giant of a man limped deeper into the cavern. His hand found the nooks carved into the walls, and slowly tugged out a pole. He ran his hand along the smooth wood, and grunted. It would have to do.
Now, Krogan blinked slowly, and turned to the razorwhip. Instinctively, he tilted his head as it began to come closer, grumbling at him as it did so. The dragon made no other noise, as the creature sniffed at the pole, and grunted.
"I need a tail spine," he stated simply. "Think you can loosen one for me?" The dragon's face drew closer to his as the dragon's scales flexed against their muscular neck.
Grumbling, the creature turned away, and Krogan leaned down, patting the dragon's tail for a moment. When he found one of the spines, he brought his hand to it, and the Razorwhip twitched it out of its sheathe.
Krogan grunted, tugging the spine out of its socket, wincing as the dragon gave a soft hiss of pain.
"Sorry," he quickly apologized, as he sat down with what was going to become the handle of his spear. He set the pole on the floor of the cavern, and then, Krogan grasped the spine with his non-injured hand.
Krogan paid the dragon no mind, as he heard their scales shifting along the floor of the cavern, and then a blast as the creature began to settle in place.
"We are not staying long." Krogan said simply. "I just have to get my wound to stop bleeding." He grunted as he reached down, holding the spine in one hand. Swiftly, he tore off a scrap of his pant leg, all the way up to the middle of his calf, before he swiftly grunted, and then dropped the spine.
He wrapped the fabric around his hand, tying it in place to his best ability, and then he ripped off the excess with his teeth. His dark hair shifted, as he brought together his hands, and rolled the excess fabric into a form of rope.
Finally, the giant of a man turned his attention to making himself a spear. With the one hand on his pole, he began to whittle a hole into the top of the pole to slide the spine into. The spine worked for this job perfectly, as in a few minutes, he was done, and he wiped the shavings out of his lap.
Finally, he slid the spine into the hole, and started to wrap the excess cloth around the item to keep it steady. Once done, the man turned his head towards the Razorwhip, and started to get to his feet. With a soft pant, the man turned his head down, and his shaking legs screamed.
"Agh-" he swore. "No- gods-" he cried out in pain as he once again had to straighten his back and his shoulders. His hand gripped at the spear, as he placed the blunted pole end to the floor to use as a balance.
The Razorwhip, however, strode over with a grumble, again nudging their side into his own. Krogan grit his teeth at the motion, and slowly reached out to rub at their neck. The dragon lowered themselves to the floor, allowing Krogan to access their back.
He climbed on again, this time sitting upright as the dragon began to pad towards the sound of the rushing water. They needed it, definitely. He just needed to get himself some rest. Water was important as well. They were near the cold, mountain fed spring.
He could hear the air shifting, the air pressure beginning to drop. There was another storm coming. Unfortunately. Hopefully they could get out of here before they were overwhelmed.
Krogan himself climbed off again as the sound of the water became overwhelming. He limped closer, and then leaned down, dropping his head into the cool water to drink his fill.
His thirst. Krogan came up for air. He hadn't even realized how parched he was, and as such, the man went down with his hands, placing the spear at his side to again get more.
The razorwhip next to him huffed softly, before going in for a drink as well. The cold water soothed Krogan's nerves, and again, he grabbed the spear, before he stood, and shifted himself closer to the Razorwhip's back.
They made no motion to boot him off as Krogan wrapped an arm around the dragon's neck. As they too finished their drink, they abruptly turned, and scrambled off into the caverns. They were traveling faster than Krogan expected, and as such, the man grasped tighter onto the creature's neck.
As the dragon scrambled through the caverns, and the light outside of the caverns began to grow brighter, Krogan found himself growing used to the dragon's movements. There was an opening in the cave system was approaching, and it wasn't long before the warmth of the sun was beating down on Krogan's back.
The fresh air was a relief, and the rustling of the Razorwhip's scales against each other was the only noise as the dragon calmly strode outside. Krogan could smell that there was dirt being kicked up, and hear the gravel crunching under their scales. Water was not far from their location, depending on where the exited, it was no more than a mile at best.
Suddenly, the dragon roared, and spread their wings. Swiftly, Krogan was forced to drop the spear as the dragon took to the sky, wings spreading wide as they could.
"No-" Krogan gasped out. "FUCK-" He heard the spear clattering to the gravel below as they soared into the sky. There was no turning back now, as the giant of a man grasped tighter to the dragon's back and neck. His heart hammered in his chest as they accelerated towards the clouds.
Dampness splattered his cheeks as the clouds parted in their wake, and Razorwhip and rider evened out. Since there was no need to burn as much energy, their speed slowed, and Krogan shifted, gripping his legs tighter around the dragon's body. He sighed deeply.
The wind rustled his hair against his skin, and he started to relax. Not enough to sleep, however, his mind wandered. The wind's gentle swaying as the dragon's metallic wings on either side of his body flapped powerfully lulled himself into a sense of calm.
The sound of thunder rumbling far in the distance made him sigh, his eyes shifting around the spots of light that glimmered in the depths of his vision. It was nothing of use, of course.
Finally, he felt his body shaking.
The frustration boiled to the surface of his mind.
For Thor's sake, he thought in disgust. However, the tears still came. His face crumpled as the first, papery sob curled past his throat. They had abandoned him. They had all abandoned him.
What had he done? What even happened for him to go blind? His mind was foggy on that detail, and the wind, the dragon beneath him. None of it made any sense.
Tears chilled his cheeks as another sob curled from his throat.
I know I failed to collect Haddock like you wanted me to, Johann, but what else could I do? It was Viggo that caused the problem. He rubbed at his wrist. The singed marks of electricity burned against the air. His collarbone was a mess of electrified burns. Burns. Everywhere.
He could feel them, hypersensitive against the cool air.
Swallowing thickly, Krogan turned his head to the wind.
I can figure this out later. He thought. I am on my own for right now. I need to survive. I can do that.
AN: And there it is! The prologue! I hope to see some feedback (you don't have to if you don't want to; not required), since I would like to see if people are actually interested in where this is going for the moment. I will 100% try to reply to you, and if I don't it's because I'm happy stimming, or I just missed the notification. (Or I don't have anything to say to add onto the matter, though I will take your suggestions or feedback into consideration.)