The Power of the Storm

To ancient Z'hratians, there was nothing in the natural world quite as frightening as the power of a storm. Prior to advancements in meterology, First District superstitions claimed that the waves were the handiwork of restless sea serpents that swept whole ships away into the vast ocean with a swipe of their massive tails. More inland individuals thought that each lightning strike was the wrath of the Verdant Mother, smiting people and creatures who had sinned against the sky.
Like most things, the truth is far more mundane than all that. The storm is simply precipitation, the lightning a static charge in a raincloud attracted to the opposite charges on Z'hrat's surface.
But the storm is more than that to those blessed women who ride the wind currents, cutting through the clouds like a sunbeam. Those that live as long as nature itself, with the power of the squall in their veins, who fight with the strength of the tide. The clash of steel on steel rings out like thunder, then, a flash of brilliant light as they call down radiant justice on those who would do evil. They are the angels, and the Sentinels of Thunder will always heed the call of the storm.