Once again change has come to the community of Start Rift and the Academy. A plot here,a murder there, intrigue, theft and the non stop pursuit of hedonistic pleasure is ‘business as usual’ for the greater community; at the Academy there is a building power struggle – one expected to end violently.

Second, centered around two members of the Academy leadership – Chancellor Storm Dragon and Headmistress Charity; revenge has been sworn, with the murder of many school Masters and Journeymen, death and destruction of businesses who deal with either of these two, and much more are placed at their feet.

For Charity, one who is constantly swept up into such chaotic messes, this is ‘business as usual.’


*******************************************
*******************************************
Looking down over the community is a lone tower, a run down clock long since grown over with vines and other flowering plants; the heights where the bells used to chime daily now the home for the stilled bells and the birds that nest within. Many still use the lower floors and rooms for private trysts between lovers or groups of them, sometimes holding wild chases or full scale hedonistic to the extreme parties. Never are the uppermost levels used for great and trapped doors of iron secure them yet.

However, today is an exception, as there is a couple sharing in the company of one another’s loving attention. Literally have they scaled the outer walls; the gentleman has climbed the walls so fast and steady, his beloved clutching him for dear life (even though she was in no true danger), that anyone observing would swear a great cat leaped and ran UP them.

“Now then, where did those exquisite little treasures go to? I thought I had seen them around here, no? Or did I leave them here instead?” His voice is soft and melodious as if one was listening to a spring breeze moving across the treetops of a forest. His hands flow over her abdomen, causing a peal of giggles and squeals to erupt as each of her ticklish spots is discovered. Long and deep does that laughter continue, for in each hand is a large feather – then with a swirl of his fingers they become a pair, three and then four.

“Now for the next part of my search I will commence to explore your feet and legs, then work up for wonders to be discovered beneath that inviting skirt of yours; and those legs – growl!” The young lady, Sassa looks down at her love with rapturous anticipation at the enticements he is about to carry out; giggles break loose before he even starts. One foot held firmly, yet gently in his hands – the hidden strength and power shows the absolute control and discipline he has on each muscle – he commences to apply the feathers to draw out a riot of laughs and giggles to the point she is squirming like a happy mouse in a cheese factory.

Playfully she shakes her head while taking in his amusing smile and sheepish grin, one feline ear flared straight up and the other laying pressed forward along his cheeks. He made each one independently move out, up, down and in circles – she soon realizes he is using a flag code as the great galleons do to communicate! His words are “I – L – U – V – Y – O – U – growl!”

He moves on with his “search” along her leg with lips kissing and cheek caressing her muscles and each soft curve as well up to the hem of her skirt. Taking it into his mouth, the fabric rich with her heady scents, he moves it upward, revealing her thighs and then her uncovered womanhood, the source of pleasure he loves to give to all women from his past.

“Oh my look at this rich and wonderful area we have yet to search! May I do so my lady dear?” So innocent of a tone does his expression convey when he speaks she cannot help but laugh again. Nodding quickly he moves to get closer to her womanhood.


======
Wow! Sassa experiences a rising tide of heat, passion, and desire. Each one mixes with another, ebbing and flowing with each movement of his tongue and lips on her vagina. Her nipples stand up, pressing against that simple silken blouse straining to keep them hidden from the world. Oh how much bliss she feels in each part of her being; he is showing her just how much pleasure she can expect and find from daring to explore.

His lips press onto her inner thighs, sending a cascade of intense, electrical rivers of pleasure comparable to the first roars of an approaching flood or peals of thunder saying a storm is soon to be at hand. One pulsing, body shaking, squeal inducing, sensation of the storm encompasses her mind. So strong is the desire she feels all of her body crying out for the storm to be summoned. She smells the heady mixture of rain, flowers, life being lived, along with the stale scents of old wood, cloth and dust layered upon dust.

His tongue sweeps across her womanhood once again, expertly moving in a alphabet soup of an A, X, H, K, Y and T. Closer the storm comes, building into a wall of dark clouds, billowing and swirling with the intensity of her passions; lightning cascading in great swirls of color and sharp bolts slamming to the ground, thunder peals aloud in unison with her squeals of desire.

Biting on her lower lip, hands’ moving down to hold her beloved in place, her body shudders with the pending release of the storm. Once, twice and a third time her back arches upward, only being held down by the iron grip of his on her body. Her body shakes violently as the thunder roars, winds howl, and the full pent up energy of the storm is unleashed – and her release of pleasure occurs.

Such is the heady mood it places her in she fails to hear or feel the tower shaking violently, the sound of the beams supporting the great bells tearing asunder, or the alarmed shock showing on her beloved’s face. Her own scream is drowned out by the chorus of noise about the both of them.


======
In one swift move her beloved, the cat-folk monk known as Dancing Tiger, tosses her into the air and swirls his cloak about her body as she is caught again in his arms. Hoping the magical protections embedded in his cloak will keep her safe he looks up, seeing the great support beam holding the massive bells aloft begin its final set of death throws. Forgoing the stairs down he leaps through the archway to an outer balcony as five massive sets of lightning slam into the area; stone is rent and shatters, hurling projectiles from small pebbles to massive ton or more in mass blocks all about.

From the balcony to the banister edging he moves faster than a enraged lion dodging each flying bit of stone and debris coming after them. Metal clangs upon metal as the mighty bells commence their final movement in the tower, sundering the floor apart as each of their hundred ton mass makes impact, imploding the uppermost structure of the tower.

One step ahead of the collapse he literally runs DOWN the wall, so well tuned is mind and body that he is able to find purchase and balance upon the tiniest of projections – stone, wood, vine or even the pedals of a flower. The lightning repeatedly strikes at him and his beloved. Once, twice, four and a dozen more times. Now it is a race between him, the fury of nature gone mad and the death throws of the bell tower.

For the safety of his beloved it is one he intends to win.


======
People in the market and surrounding homes, shops and buildings watch the death of the tower; most assuming that the lightning strikes are the cause. Some of them though, close enough to observe and feel the earth shaking crash at the end claim to have seen a lone figure – some say it was a ghost claiming final revenge on the sight of its death, others it was a mage who failed in some grand experiment gone horrifically wrong. Others though, much more cynical; claim that a mother-in-law was gaining revenge upon the ex-lover of her scorned daughter.

He hits the ground running flat out, seeking to get to shelter – any shelter – as soon as possible. As if possessing a living intellect of its own, the storm keeps pursuing; inhuman wails merge with the wind, the sounds of the banshee letting him know his life is forfeit this night. Twisting, turning, leaping off of buildings, banisters, rails and all manner of crates he dodges the continuous stream of lightning bolts.

Running and leaping across a small park he makes it halfway over a footbridge when their luck finally runs out. One, two and then five more bolts of primordial, white hot electricity slam into him. Flung bodily into a shops outer wall he folds his body about Sassa as they land in a heap of refuse. Witnesses say twenty or more bolts of lightning came down afterward, as if nature held a grudge against him for violating some ancient law that set forth the most intense of punishments.

All of those same watchers figured that is the end for them both; and the subsequent collapse of the shop wall, a massive structure of five stories of solid hewn stone, onto their location guarantees it. The excitement of the moment past, they all go back to their lives, while the howls of the shop owner rise louder and louder from the loss of business inflicted.


======
Minutes pass without any movement anywhere to be seen or more lightning coming down. Suddenly he leaps into the air, twin blades drawn to cover his loves arising unto her feet. A quick glance shows the magical wards in his cloak – making its wearer impervious to lightning, has left her whole and hale.

“My lady,” he declares to her, “I have to admit, you are the first one I have pleasured who called down the very fires of the skies with her delight.”

Though her chuckle and tender guiding glance to a window nearby shows the truth – his clothing is torn and smoking from the hits he has taken, as well as his white hair with the black circles of spots, standing on end from the electrical forces exposed.

Now she understands, seeing him in action tonight, how her love has gained the name “Dancing Tiger.”


*********************************
*********************************
Within the central wonders of the Academy is the Great Hall, stretching for almost a mike in length and half that wide; soaring to great flying arches that support large panels of glass enchanted with the hardness of steel.