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The Story of Jazelle

<Blackbird>
Ohramin began his service to Bahamut when he was only a boy. For many years the church was both wife and child to him; he demands of his vision left too little to spare to be a proper husband, he believed. But in the years after the death of Alberak and the scattering of the Paladins loneliness afflicted him just as it can any other man.

One of the first to join the church inthe early days was a young maiden named Jazelle. She loved Ohramin from the day she saw him, but realized that there was no room in his heart for a wife. Instead, she stayed beside him, serving him faithfully as a priestess. but finally, in the years of Ohramin's loneliness, he awoke to her love for him, and realized that he returned it, so he took her for his wife.

It is said that Jazelle's strength of faith at times exceeded his. It is certain that the young Church would never have survived without her faith and her courage....

<Narrator>
As Blackbird begins to weave the tale of Ohramin and Jazelle, it becomes apparent to the others that they are in the presence of a storyteller with few equals [Stu: better than me, so bear with me! :-)]. She paints pictures with her worlds, makes the familiar old story seem almost to play out before them. Soon they even forget they are hearing a story....

...

<Goldeneyes> [resting her hands familiarly on Jazelle's gently rounded belly]
He is well.

<Jazelle>
He? He is a boy?

<Goldeneyes> [smiling]
Yes, a boy.

[the startling golden eyes for which she is named go vague, as if she is looking into distances no one else can see. And perhaps she is.]

And ... I see ... one day, a man. A leader. An heir.... But the way is not clear ... there are shadows ... and white, a blizzard ... confusion, death, lost paths, lost futures.

[eyes clear]

Tiamat will hate this child, Jazelle. His death would be a great victory for her. Guard him. And yourself.

<Jazelle> [nods, looks frightened]

<Goldeneyes> [takes her into her arms like a child]

...

<Narrator>
Four months later ... Jazelle travels to rendevous with Ohramin at a castle in Devonshire. But the trip has gone wrong: Tiamat cultists led by one who calls herself the White Queen pursue them like hounds after a rabbit. They have realized that the young mother travels with neither dragon nor Paladin to guard her. Only a company of men at arms an a mere few lesser knights....

...Sinequanan has not yet ended but already winter has taken Devonshire fully in its grip. A band of travellers slogs along the snow-choked track, heads bowed against wind as cold and harsh as the breath of a white dragon. Jazelle, heavy with her unborn child, rides a horse in the midst of them. The party is haggard and weary -- their progress is slowed by the weather and Jazelle's condition, and they are hounded at every turn by the White Queen's forces. Some of the men are wounded, all are dispirited and frightened.

Suddenly the woods spill forth warriors and arrows. The screams of men and horses mingle with the wail of the wind that whips snow around the croup in confusing veils.

Jazelle tries to hold her horse calm in the melee. Knights and men at arms form a living wall around her, for it is her blood and the blood of her son that the White Queen thirsts for. She watches one by one as the men fall around her. A knight gives his life to stop a spear thrust aimed at her and Jazelle stretches out her hand, sending lightning forth to strike down the one who slew him. Soon she is fighting for her life, wreaking havoc on the enemy with lightning and whirlwind. The combat seems to last an eternity. Her horse is cut from beneath her and she stands, back-to-back with one of her armsmen. The ground around them is covered in pink slush and dead bodies. Her attacker raises his axe for another swing and Jazelle can feel in her soul that she will not be able to shieldagainst it; her magic is spent, her shield arm hangs like lead. She cries out a prayer.

<Jazelle>
Please, Lord Bahamut, for the sake of my child!

<Narrator>
From out of the swirling whiteness beyond her attacker, a blade slices, severing his head. When he falls, she sees one of her knights, one whom she thought she saw fall earlier in the combat. He turns and disappears again into the snowstorm before she can even utter thanks.

She realizes suddenly, almost scarcely able to comprehend, the no attacker has appeared to engage her. The only sound she can hear above the wind is the heavy breathing of her armsman. They turn to face each other at the same time. Nothing else is moving.

<Sigurd> [panting]
I think that's the last of'em, milady. [looking around in sudden shock] Are we the only ones left?

<Jazelle>
No. i just saw Sir Gautier. He headed that way [pointing]

<Sigurd> [nods]
Let's see if he needs help.

<Narrator>
Before they find Sir Gautier, they come across a horse, which turns out later to be the only one fit to ride. When they do find Sir Gautier, he is beyond help. Jazelle could never be sure in the confusion of the fight and storm, but at seemed to her that he was laying where she remembered seeing him fall.

<Sigurd>
Come, milady. We can't stay 'ere. The White Bitch won't take long to send someone to finish what these started, and we don't have much left to fight with.

...

<Blackbird>
Little is known about Jazelle and Sigurd's flight. They were harried and pursued, but somehow, by Bahamut's will, they managed to survive. Legend among the Anchor has it that Jazelle herself wrote this song as she fled, and sang as a prayer to Bahamut it to give them both heart as the fled the White Queen's minions.

	I have travelled many moonless nights
	Cold and weary with a babe inside
	And I wonder what I have done
	Holy Bahamut you have come
	    and chosen me now to carry his son
	
	I am waiting in a silent prayer
	I am frightened by the load I bear
	In a world as cold as stone
	Must I walk this path alone?
	Be with me now
	Be with me now<

	Chorus:	
		Breath of heaven
		Hold me together
		Be forever near me
		Breath of heaven
		Breath of heaven
		Lighten my darkness
		Pour over me your holiness
		For you are holy
		Breath of heaven<
	
	Do you wonder as you watch my face
	If a wiser one should have had my place?
	But I offer all I am
	For the mercy of your plan
	Help me be strong
	Help me be
	Help me...

	Chorus
	
	Chorus

<Narrator>
Jazelle and Sigurd were finally brought to bay in the castle of a poor Devonshire lord some four leagues from their destination. It was not the White Queen that finally put an end to their flight. Jazelle's time had come. She lay in the lord's bed trying to bring her son into the world while the White Queen herself stood before the castle gates.

<Jazelle>
She's out there, isn't she, Sigurd? We've failed. She's going to--

<Narrator>
Jazelle's words are cut off by the pain of a contraction.

<Jazelle> [when the pain eases]
She's going to get my son. Oh, my son, I'm sorry.

<Sigurd> [fierce, grips her hand tightly]
We haven't failed, milady. That thing won't touch your babe while I stand. And Bahamut will protect him when I no longer can. Just like you said, milady.

<Jazelle> [nodding]
Bless you, Sigurd. Thank you. [pause for another contraction] It is almost time.

<Midwife> [to Sigurd]
You should stand outside, sir. It isn't proper for a man to see this.

<Jazelle>
Nonsense! He's warded this child long enough. Sigurd deserves to be here when he takes his first breath.

<Sigurd> [winking at Jazelle]
I don't 'spect it will startle me much more than the last calving I attended.

<Jazelle> [smiling, managing mock-offense]
Sigurd! Are you comparing me with a cow?

<Sigurd> [smiling]
Never, milady!

<Jazelle>
Well, you should. I feel like one.

<Narrator>
Meanwhile, down at the castle gate, the White Queen issues her ultimatum.

<White Queen>
Bring forth the woman and child and I will spare the lives of everyone else in the castle. Refuse, and you will all die along with them.

<Narrator>
Sir Benedict, lord of the castle looks down from the wall on the White Queen, and knows she is not bluffing. She is inhumanly beautiful, this so-called queen. She stands a head taller than the tallest man in his command and has an air of nobility around her that gives plausibility to the title she claims. She stands all alone and appears unarmed, but the strength of her appearance alone seems to clothe her in impenetrable armor.

Yet, Benedict is a man who gives honor to the title of knight. He has given sanctuary to the wife of Ohramin, and that sanctuary is worth his life. More, he believes in the faith Ohramin is preaching and sees the good in it.

<Sir Benedict> [calmly, but pitched so all his men will hear it]
It is an honorable way to die.

<White Queen>
Very well, foolish one. See who you defy and look upon your death.

<Narrator>
Before the eyes of Sir Benedict and all his men, the White Queen's form shifts and grows huge. A white dragon stands in her place. The top of it's head comes more than halfway up the battlements. For a long moment there is silence. The dragon merely regards the men in the castle with her pale, malevolent stare. In each man's heart settles the cold certaintly that they have seen their last day.

The silence is broken by a commotion down the road leading to the castle. A company of horsement charging up the road, forging a path through the snow, sending clouds of it flying from iron-shod hooves. And at their head one who holds a gleaming scythe over his head like a banner.

The White Queen, now a dragon, sees the Claw of Bahamut and snarls in anger.

<Sir Benedict>
Ohramin! [to his men] Shoot!

<Narrator>
A volley of arrows rains down upon the dragon, but she shrugs them off with no more thought than a horse flicking flie wiht its tail. Not one penetrates her scales.

With what seems but the gentle of touches, she rakes her claws across the gate, reducing it to splinters. The sinuous, deadly shape surges into the castle courtyard, shouldering down part of the wall as it comes. It raises its head and looks around at the men. Most huddled in fear, one foolishly brave, Sir Benedict, coming toward her with sword raised.

She lets loose her breath, cold as Tiamat's heart, and brave man and coward alike fall lifeless and cold.

The sound of hoofbeats rapidly approaching is the only one that disturbs the courtyard. She changes back to the beautiful queenly form she first wore and enters the castle. The few inhabitants she encounters as she climbs toward the lord's bedroom fall with frost on their breath.

She pauses outside the bedroom. Through the stout door, she hears a babe's cry and she allows herself one cruel smile before she shatters the door.

The moment she steps in the room a lightning bolt flies from Jazelle's fingers and strikes the White Queen in the chest. She staggers and Sigurd takes the opening to swing his sword in a deadly arc toward her neck, but just before his blade meets flesh, the White Queen suddenly ceases to be there. Sigurd staggers, startled and off balance. From her new position beside him, the White Queen smiles as her fist thunders into his head, rendering him senseless.

While the Queen concentrates on Sigurd, Jazelle readies another lightning bolt. In the wake of the birth, the effort leaves her pale.

But before she can release it, the Queen gestures almost scornfully and all Jazelle's magic departs her, leaving her feeling even more naked than the thin sheet that covers her suggests.

<White Queen>
Perhaps if you bow down to me, I will spare you and your child. Orhamin's child in service to me is even better than Orhamin's child dead.

<Jazelle> [unhesitating]
If that is what it takes to save my child, then very well.

<Narrator>
The White Queen raises an eyebrow in surprise. She had not expected her offer to be accepted.

<White Queen>
It is amazing what we will do for the sake of our children, isn't it?

Come forward and kneel with the babe.

<Narrator>
Jazelle lifts herself painfully from the bed, babe cradled in her arms and comes toward the White Queen. She kneels down, with her head bowed.

The White Queen places her hand on Jazelle's head, and in the instant she does so, the dagger that Jazelle had concealed under her son flashes out and plunges into the White Queen's belly.

The White Queen screams and yanks Jazelle up by the throat and hurls her and the baby both against the wall. Jazelle's head hits with a sickening crack and she slumps to the floor.

At that instant Ohramin enters the room. Seeing his wife's limp body, he howls in wordless rage and swings the Claw of Bahamut at the White Queen.

Now, it is said that the powers of the Claw are varied, some very subtle. But that day, Ohramin simply used it as a weapon to rend. The White Queen fell back before the onslaught, unable even to defend herself in the face of the Claw's power. When she would never move again, Ohramin went to his wife. Her body had cushioned their baby from the impact, but at the cost of her life.

...

<Blackbird>
Some legends go on to say that Ohramin called on the power of Bahamut to bring her back to life, but that is just a story, is it not, Sister Anne? Bahamut grants no one a second life, not even the wife of Ohramin, does he? It is just like Ohramin said, "Dead is dead." Why would it be any different for Jazelle?

<Sister Anne>
I believe Bahamut did bring her back, but only long enough to say goodbye.

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