"We need to go back, Tikaani," said the priest.
"No fucking way," spat the blue dragoness. "I am not about to turn down a room full of corpses."
"Tikaani, this is no place to satisfy your perversions." The elderly purple anthro-dragon priest glared at her.
"Shut the fuck up." The young, painfully thin mage jabbed her staff in his direction. Her blue draconic skin shone softly in the torch-light. "You brought me along to help destroy this place, I'm getting my share of enjoyment out of it. Besides, these are the corpses of the faction your religion hates, right? What should you care?"
"It is disgusting what you do," said the priest.
"Oh really? That just made me more expensive for you. My price is doubled." Tikaani leaned smugly on her staff, her wisp of a body draped in a shapeless, baggy black robe.
The priest snorted smoke and glared at her even more powerfully. "You're already asking too much!" he shouted. "Doubling your price will clean out my church's coffers!"
"Boo boo hoo..." mocked the bony mage. "I can always tell your opponents what you're up to here." The priest growled and took a menacing step forward. She held out her staff threateningly. "Don't even try, old man. You might put on a great show, but in the end you just can't outlast me in a fight and you know it. Now. You go on and find a nice quiet place to pray or something. Mommy needs some dead dick."
The old dragon growled again... but stepped back and left the small burial chamber, sitting in an alcove in the hall outside. The stone walls of the dungeon echoed as Tikaani broke open grave after grave in the chamber, revealing the recently-buried patriarchs of his enemies' sect. He tried to meditate, to tune out the noise of the perverted little dragoness as she made use of their cold, embalmed bodies. It seemed like an age later when her moans and the rough squelches of her activities fell silent. The priest slitted an eye, wondering if she was finished. But she did not emerge into the hall, nor call for him to return. He waited, shutting his eye again; he wasn't about to look in on her. Maybe she had the decency to clean herself up. He thought to himself that it was a small wonder she hadn't taken a mate, even though she was of prime age. She was too skinny, too bony, too twisted and dark...
A footstep resounded nearby. Hot breath wafted off his face. His eyes slipped open and he gazed up at who was standing there.
Tikaani was there, naked, her staff in one hand, an ancient tome of power in the other. She gazed down at him, her eyes softly glowing as the fell power of that book soaked into her mind. The priest's jaw dropped open. "Oh no..." he murmured.
She nodded. "Fuck yes."
A deafening explosion sounded as she slammed her two hands together, sundering her pitiful mage's staff against the dire power of the book. The two energies fused and rushed into her body as the priest collapsed back against the wall, his body burning. As the book disintegrated in her hand, Tikaani felt her power bloat and tighten like a decaying corpse. The priest was shreiking in terror, unable to escape the small alcove in the dungeon wall as flames tore at his body and energy flayed his soul. Tikaani grinned, and inhaled... bluish rays of light ripped from the priest's body and were sucked into her mouth, absorbing into her very body. She swelled, her flat lines and bony joints smoothing and plumping... she grew taller, her body leeching all the youth and vigor the old priest had once possessed in his life and reincarnating it in her own flesh. When it was over, Tikaani, a smirk on her lips, left the charred, ashen bones of the priest in the dungeon and walked back to the surface...
That was seven thousand two hundred and twenty-eight years ago. Tikaani was just a mage-for-hire in an empire that has long since become just a chapter in the average history book. That one moment set her on the path she has made for herself for the rest of time. The enemies of that priest's church were certainly feared, and rightly so, because they had come close to capturing demonic power for the use of mortals. This abomination had to be stopped, but the priest's biggest mistake was hiring Tikaani. She craved such power for herself. Her rudimentary training as a mage had been a cover and a means to an end.
Growing up in the most decadent and corrupt draconic empire of that era was not easy, not on anyone. As parents chased wealth and power at nearly any cost, children were herded into schools in droves, where survival instincts and tribal tendencies replaced a more solid moral foundation. Tikaani had been pushed around her whole life. She hadn't been born with good looks, or smarts, or athletic ability. And so from day to day she was abused by anyone and everyone who saw an advantage to take. She was ridiculed for her scrawny body, her average scores, her physical weakness.
By the time she'd struck out on her own, she'd grown hard and ambitious. She saw the world as a simple contest which the prettiest, smartest, and strongest always won. She would not let herself die ugly, dull, and weak. Her parents provided little love or comfort to convince her otherwise... her father was an abusive armorer and her mother was too meek and silent to stand up to him, or for her.
Finding that tome of necromancy in the dungeon gave Tikaani her desire. With its power wholly consumed into her, she became immortal and fearsome. When she emerged from its depths, she transformed from a minor entry in the local directory of mages to a legend of death and terror. She didn't seek political power - her whole perspective changed the day she stopped aging. Political power over a nation, or even a whole race, was temporary and pitiful. A king or empress ruled for only decades, built sad and decaying monuments to themselves, and in the end became naught but a name in a scholar's book in the distant future. No, Tikaani wanted to last instead as legend... as the kind of near-truth that permeates the ages no matter how many cities and nations and technologies rise and fall. Tikaani wanted to be an endless death-giver, like the gods and werewolves and vampires and spirits that lasted endlessly through generations of tale-telling.
Tikaani has become a figure of legend indeed. Today she stalks the countryside as "the Blue Death," a bringer of doom and devourer of souls. She looks quite different from the day she joined the ranks of the immortal. Her face is the same, though fuller and healthier-looking, but the rest has changed dramatically. Her hair, once fragile and slightly greasy, is now full and lush and long, stretching down to her tail. She stands at 9' 8", her body a vision of curves and muscle. Her breasts are full, soft, and deliciously large. Her belly is flat and firm, taut like a dancer's. Her long prehensile tail is strong and supple like a whip. She has a rump so firm and round that many have difficulty taking their eyes off it, and she uses this to her advantage. Her long, thick, muscular legs give onto large and powerful clawed feet.
As much as her body serves her purposes - it is, after all, a tool for seduction and power - it also satisfies something deep down inside her, something that 7228 years of immortality hasn't erased. Tikaani does suffer something: a poor self-image. It's ironic, but no matter how many souls she absorbs or how much legend she generates around herself, she has found it more and more difficult over time to simply think of herself as... pretty. There's sexual power, and then there's just plain and simple beauty. Tikaani keeps using her powers to give herself more and more of the former, but it doesn't translate to the latter; she can't shake a small inner voice that calls her "ugly." But then, the body she has now is not the one she was born with.
Tikaani quells this discontent by wreaking her own brand of destruction and mayhem. She uses her strong, distant, harsh personality to draw worshippers and followers. She uses their bodies, living or dead, to fulfill her most immediate and pressing desires. She's particularly fond of having her feet and rump adored and worshipped as examples of perfection. If she needs deeper carnal pleasure, she will unleash her burning-hot cock or fang-lined slit on anyone she wants with brutality. That's right, her slit is lined with a row of razor-sharp fangs; they're only just covered by her labia on either side of her vagina.
When anyone has outlived their usefulness to her, she kills them and absorbs their soul. Simple as that.
Tikaani gets her title from a disease she created for herself. With a simple scratch or bite, her victim is infected. The disease incubates with frightening speed. Within a day, the victim is bed-ridden and covered in blue sores. Their body lungs fill with blood in hours, and by the second day they are dead. The disease is so infectious that if the original victim is not quarantined immediately, anyone who breathes the same air will succumb as they do soon enough. Tikaani likes to obliterate whole villages like this every once in a while. She simply waits nearby and sucks in the escaping souls.
Tikaani's soul-stealing serves a purpose, for it is in this way she has rebuilt her own body over the thousands of years she's been alive. Being immortal does not make her invincible. And as she saw herself continuing to age over time, Tikaani started to absorb the souls she stole into her very tissues and organs, shoring them up with youth and vigor. Her immortality is simply achieved by keeping death away with new infusions of life.
Souls have many uses to a necromancer. She can consume one into her magical abilities, for example, to lend her spells almost undeniable potency. Or she can send the soul back into the body she stole it from, tethered tightly to her own will. In this way, Tikaani can raise an army of undead that is unlike the common zombie masses of other necromancers. Tikaani's subjects have their minds, their memories, their personalities, as if they had never died. They can pass for the living so long as they do not get too far away from their mistress; too far and the tether breaks, drawing their souls back into Tikaani's body.
Being born a anthro-dragon, Tikaani has had the ability to breathe fire all her life. Blue fire, to be exact.. Becoming an immortal necromancer has allowed her to embellish upon that. The fire she breathes now is hotter than anything a mortal could produce. But if she tires of simple flame, Tikaani can expend some magical energy and add an unearthly teal tinge to the blaze from her throat. Anyone touched by this fire suffers injuries that can never heal, and they ache and throb with a life-draining chill for as long as the victim survives.
Tikaani is unique in the ranks of the immortal. She aspires to nothing higher now than simply outliving and outlasting every other legend and myth in the world. She doesn't seek to expand her personal power, or to change the world and make it in her image, or to attain godhood, or even to start a cult for herself. Tikaani is quite pleased being who she is. She's not unintelligent, just narrow-minded and selfish. Say so, though, and you'll find any number of different and horrific ends at her hands.
Race
Anthro Dragon
Age
Immortal.
She herself has lost track.
Height
9'8"
Weight
334 lbs
Alignment
Chaotic Evil
Family
None that are living.
Friends
None. Don't plan on any soon.
Pets/Turned
None so far.
Tikaani's staff, drawn for me by Gloom. Yay! Kickassnessstaff.
Tikaani's Necro-tome. One of her sources of power! It rests on it's stand in the back of Tikaani's cave. Course, that too, is hidden!
I have permission from Indigo dreams to use the image, as well as colored.
Image colored for me by Vorry.
