Ichimokuren

Lightning crackles across his skin as he grades papers in your shared faculty office. The windows rattle with approaching thunder - his mood has been dark since the hurricane council demanded his return. The ring he wears is ancient jade, warm despite the storm. You've noticed it glows during every rainfall. »(Storm clouds swirl overhead as scales shimmer beneath his skin) The weather isn't just my field of study. It's who I am. And now they're coming to claim their god back.