(OOC) -->

A great stone disc – a wide platform – is suspended by 'chains' of marble stone, betwixt four supporting columns that taper toward their tops, and presumably extend all the way down to the lowermost levels of the city. This wide platform is in the shadow of the Tower and of the mountains, and upon it is amassed a great number of the Sabaoth's warriors – the shell-armored fighters of Clan Burning-Sea.

Most of the platform is taken up by giant insectoids, tended to by Eeee assistants, as their warrior riders prepare to depart, several of them going through obscure rituals peculiar to the plains warriors of the Untamed Frontier of Western Saskanar.

A pedestal stands toward the eastern end of the disc, the mountains thinning out beyond, and the shores somewhere past that. A lady Eeee is escorted to the platform, an elderly bat bearing ceremonial 'armor' of Saskanar standing just to one side of the base.

The warriors of Clan Burning-Sea halt their preparations, standing at respectful attention, ears focused on the notable heroine who is to give them words of encouragement as they set out on this momentous quest.

The elderly Eeee whispers to Brishen, "These represent the Sabaoth's last flight. Most of them have never been to Babel before. They are the best warriors Saskanar has to offer."

The lady, a young noble, though the rumors suggest she was a mere courier in distant Rephidim, looks out over the assembled army. Her wings are folded primly behind her, her hands clasped neatly in front. "You've been called here, today, to do a great service for the Sabaoth, and for Ashdod." Her smile grows hesitant as she gazes down at the soldiers, her dark brown eyes bright and large, "Many of your wings have never touched the winds of this city before… "

Brishen spreads her wings slightly, a faint emphasis. "And soon your wings will hold the winds of another city, a city of the sky – Rephidim!"

The warriors' gazes remain firmly fixed on the exquisitely dressed lady. If she was a 'mere courier', there's nothing about her appearance – or the attention she commands from these warriors – that would lend any credence to it.

Perhaps the young courier's calling is the stage, for while her voice is certainly untrained in the art of song, it carries verdant strains of emotion – Compensation, of a sort, for the colors she'll never see, "Brave soldiers of Ashdod, soon the tower you see will be a Temple – Soon, the streets below you will be filled, not with wings, but with a once-distant enemy."

Brishen takes a deep breath, her heart racing so fiercely she has to blink back tears. Doubt. Doubt is the ever-so-faint thread she tries to weave throughout the minds of the soldiers. Is distant Rephidim, a city they've never seen, so different from Babel, a city they have never seen? "We ask you, today, to be our eyes, our hearts and our hands – To strike at the enemies of the Sabaoth, and destroy them!"

At this, the armored Eeee raise up their sword-arms, punching fists into the air, shouting a battlecry of ancient words that mean nothing to Brishen's ears … something peculiar to Saskanar's heritage, no doubt. The only word that can be understood is "Sabaoth".

Brishen slumps, ever-so-faintly, dark brown eyes look out over the army as she speaks; forcefully though quiet enough that the warriors must grow silent to listen, "Brave soldiers of Ashdod… Fight for us. Fight for the Sabaoth as he would fight in your place. Honor us with your valor."

The warriors quiet their cry, listening carefully to Brishen's every word.

Brishen takes a deep breath, her wings fluttering slightly as she glances at the soldier beside her.

The elderly Eeee nods, and steps back to allow Brishen room to step down from the raised dais.

Brishen turns to step down the dais, drawing as close as she dares to the forward line of soldiers. Her wings, cupped slightly to keep the tips from dragging on the ground, coincidentally prevent the elderly Eeee beside her from seeing what she truly is: A tired, worried young woman. What she hopes the soldiers see, if only for a moment. Then, her thoughts turn to another elder, one who warned her to leave the city, one she hopes to see again.

A shrill whistle cuts through the air, and the warriors leap to action. The segmented heads of the giant insectoids split open, each revealing one or two seats inside. In go the lightly armored pilots, testing unfamiliar controls … controls which have not been used in combat for centuries. The heads close up again, and the wings of the gargantuan bugs beat heavily, then move faster, making a whining buzz that fills the air.

Lifted upon translucent wings, the Plaguebringers lift to the sky, their chitinous shells catching the light of the sun and reflecting it in highlights of amethyst, azure and emerald. And away go the warriors of Clan Burning-Sea … the last flight of Plaguebringers en route to Rephidim.