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A Life Unknown

Gryndall

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a part of A Life Unknown, by CriminalMinds.

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CriminalMinds holds sovereignty over Gryndall, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Gryndall

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Minimap

Gryndall is a part of A Life Unknown.

3 Places in Gryndall:

8 Characters Here

William Abel [2] "A hopeless cause is but a call to action."
King Leonard [2] I am the King of Illena, please help me find my daughter and bring her home.
Tito [2] Server to Setek of Ayia
Lady Rose Kress Dunn [2] I will serve with all my heart for Illena
Jazz [1] Princess of Ayia
Prince Shane(neeth De Nearo) [1] The Prince of Ayia. He is cruel and handsome, and in love with his sister.
King Daven [0] I am the King of Ayia, do as I say or suffer

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Setting

7 Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Abel Character Portrait: King Leonard Character Portrait: Lady Rose Kress Dunn Character Portrait: Tito Character Portrait: Setek Character Portrait: Jazz Character Portrait: Lady Sch??n de Volkan
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Ilenian Kingdom - Warmth cycle: Day 37 - Morning

Pacing up and down his quarters, the King waited for his Knights to appear. He was very agitated and keen to get moving with what he was going to tell them. He'd called for the best Knights of the Kingdom now. People that he was confident would complete this task and solve the mystery that had been lingering over Ilena for the last 16 years. Where was the King's daughter, Tianna? And, who killed the Queen?

Looking up as there was a knock on the wooden door, he called called for them to enter, glad to see the guard and Knights enter. Finally, he took a seat and looked over his Knights, forming the sentences in his head as to what to relay to the Knights. As they stood there, he took in each and every one of them before nodding to himself, content that they were the best.

"Welcome. Thank you for coming. As you know, things have settled down and become quieter in the Kingdom and so I have a favour to ask all of you and I'm sure you all know what time of year it is coming to. Feel free to decline but you are my best Knights. I've had every other Knight go out and try to complete this, and each time they've come back with nothing. I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about." The King paused here, looking at the expressions of the Knights before him.

A few seconds later he continued. "I would like you to head down South, to Ayia, in search of my daughter It is the last place unturned. I know there are problems there, and unsettling reports, but I want to know what happened to her. You are my best Knights and I know you will find something and help solve what happened to her and my wife all those years ago." His expression was one of upset. He had never got over his wife's death or his daughters kidnapping. Despite people believing that she would never be found, the King would keep up his search until there was either a result, or his death.

"I have everyone making the necessary arrangements for travel to start tomorrow at first light. But, like I said, it's your decision. Should you accept, I will be at the stables to see you off at first light. If you have anything you want to say, say now or you can leave and prepare for tomorrow's travels should you decide to go. Thank you for your time. And should you go, I offer many more thanks. I'm sure you know that this search means a lot to me." The King nodded upon finishing, waiting to see if there were any questions or if the Knights were just going to leave to think about the request.

Ayian Kingdom - Warmth cycle: Day 35 - Morning - Collaborated with AugmentationAudit and I

The crystal was dark, but it leaned towards darkness on the best of days; Setek’s art was not planted in the daytime world and nor would it ever be. The dead, he found, were far more eloquent than any that walked elsewhere, when one learned to look past squeamishness and superstition. So the crystal he looked into was dark, but he saw more than enough in its depths.

Obsidian to the uneducated, Setek’s ball was liquid to his eyes; he watched the future unfold in shadow and frowned at what he saw. The fates were moving, and once again not for the better. Displeased, Setek reached beyond the crystal ball and fetched the lacquered bowl that rested on the edge of his worktable. A matching jug, heavy with water, was his next acquisition; he muttered softly over the lip before spilling a measure into the waiting dish.

With a candle and a stick of incense, Setek sketched the necessary runes on the scarred tabletop around the bowl, before activating his prepared designs with a whispered word. The future would become clear to him, even if he had to traverse into death itself to find the answers that he wanted.

Once again, Jazz had wandered away from her brother and over to Setek’s chambers in search of Setek, but more importantly, Tito. Jazz liked Tito. A lot. In a way that was more than friends. She wasn't supposed to because he was merely a servant, but she did. Of course though, she wouldn't tell anyone this. Maybe Setek, but for now it was her little secret. If Shane found out, Jazz now knew that he’d probably demand Tito’s head and she was not about to let his head be served on a platter.

Jazz eventually arrived at Setek’s chambers and as per usual tested the door to see if it was unlocked, it was and so she just walked right on in, seeing Tito in the middle of the room appearing to be tidying up some clothes. Jazz grinned, watching Tito for a second before closing the door behind her.

“Hey Tito. Setek around?” She asked.

Tito looked up before frowning. He was always so formal around the princess, immediately bowing his head down despite just being in Setek’s chambers. And he was always so formal with words too, Jazz hated it. “Princess Jasmine. He’s busy working. You can’t disturb him.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Princess Jas---”

“Stop calling me that. It’s Jazz. How many times do I have to tell you Tito, just call me Jazz.”

“But...”

“No buts. Yes, I’m a princess, but I get to decide what I’m called. Everyone is so formal. It’s horrible.” She told him, waving her hand in dismissal for the conversation as she headed towards Setek’s workroom.

Tito dropped the clothes he’d spent time folding, letting them fall to the floor before rushing over towards Jazz in a panicked attempt to stop her from disturbing Setek. “You can’t go in there, Princess.”

“Jazz.” She smirked, grabbing a hold of the handle as she pushed Tito to the side. “Setek, you in here?” Jazz called out just walking inside, again she didn't knock. She’d gotten used to just walking in without knocking when it came to Setek’s residence.

“I’m sorry, Setek. I tried to tell her.” Tito looked so worked up and panicked, stressed out. It caused Jazz only to grin more, loving how worked up he got. She was sure that Setek would be fine with them. She’d never really gotten in trouble before, but then again a lot of people had been afraid to tell her off. Though, a few times Setek had told her off when she was younger. He hadn't been afraid.

“He’s all worked up thinking you’re going to have his head now.” Jazz joked. Tito didn't at all find it funny though.

“No need to worry, Tito; your head is much more valuable to me on your shoulders than in my cooking pot,” Setek didn't look up from his scrying bowl, his hands gently swirling the metallically shining surface. The future- he glanced up- perhaps the future was a little more clear than it had been before. The waters had told him little, but there was always the chance that he was looking too far afield.

“As for you, Princess,” Setek fixed Jasmine with a stern dark eye; she was one of the few to see his face, if only because she insisted on inviting herself into his rooms at her leisure. Sometimes, his mutilation worked to his advantage; he would never be forced to face the indignity of a chaperon when the young princess chose to visit.

“You should have a care, the King would frown upon your wandering into my innermost chambers uninvited.”

Tito relaxed as Setek mentioned that he was keeping his head. Despite the promise Setek had made when he’d first come into the man’s care, he was worried that he’d do something wrong and end up in the dungeon or worse, losing his head. Tito was terrified of death still.

“It’s Jazz. I was just telling Tito this, Setek. Call me Jazz. Not Princess, not Jasmine. Not Princess Jasmine. Just Jazz. I like Jazz.”

She ignored the eye that he seemed to have fixed on her. She knew the look he was giving her and she knew that he wasn't too impressed with being disturbed, just like Tito had told her. But she wasn't too caring about that at the moment. Jazz knew that with Setek she could push her boundaries and limits a little more than with anyone else. She’d practically grown up with him. He’d been here since she was a baby.

“If my father cared about me wandering into your chambers uninvited, he would have said something already. And he knows you. He knows you watch me, like the guards. He trusts you. So I can walk in here uninvited. Unless your door is locked, then I can’t for obvious reasons. What are you up to in here, anyway?”

“As you wish, princess, as you wish,” There was a humorous glint in Setek’s eye, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips that melted into a veiled wince as he stood. “However, the most important lesson for a monarch to learn is that with all the power of position, getting one’s own way is often still impossible.”

Setek took up his staff and made his way out from behind the desk, watching his two young guests all the while. The future was becoming more certain by the moment, unfortunately. He had his work cut out for him, it would seem. “Now, you can doubtless order me to call you Jazz, or threaten to behead me should I fail to comply, but where would that get you, Princess? Why, less one person to call you Jazz, of course.”

Jazz had been winding Tito up the very same way that Setek was now winding her up. She hated been referred to as Princess. It was annoying. Horrible. “Just call me Jazz, please.” She added on the end of the sentence this time. Though when Setek mentioned beheading him because he wouldn't call her Jazz it hit a nerve and she glared at him.

“I should hope that by now you would know that I wouldn't do something like that.” She glanced at Tito. “I was only joking about Tito’s head too. I wouldn't do such a thing like that. I know my father has done things like that...” Jazz felt uncomfortable admitting that, and she only knew it because Setek had shown her the truth of some matters rather than lie to her. “... But I wouldn't.” As soon as she was being teased, she didn't like it. And to suggest that she might go ahead and do something cruel too, always struck a nerve with her, and Setek most likely knew that, too.

“And I hope that you know me well enough to realise that something so mundane as beheading wouldn't stop me.” Setek made his way to the door with the intention of removing the young people from his workroom. In passing, he spoke directly into the shell of Jasmine’s ear. “Dear Jazz, do remember that we all have spots that might be pricked with well aimed words. Have a mind that Tito is not a pin cushion.”

With a soft touch to her wrist, he pulled away with a smile. “Now, should we perhaps move onto more interesting topics? I do find beheading so very distasteful before luncheon. It’s very much an after dinner activity.”

At Setek’s words, Jazz let out a sigh. “Can’t you guys take a joke? I wasn't using him as a pin cushion. I was just messing. You get that, don’t you, Tito?”

The poor boy who had been standing there silently the entire time just awkwardly nodded. He liked Jazz a lot. Again he wouldn't admit it to anyone simply because he really did want to keep his head. He knew what Prince Shane was like with Jazz too. He was not going to get involved. Though, as soon as Setek moved passed the pair, Tito remembered the clothes which were now on the floor because of his panic for Jazz.

He immediately came out of his daze, in which he’d been staring at Jazz and another panicked look on his face appeared. “The clothes!” He quickly rushed past both Jazz and Setek, scampering back to the other room where the clothes were in a heap again.

Jazz sighed. “I should go help him. I messed up the clothes because I made him drop them. Don’t be mad at him, Setek.” Jazz told him, knowing and admitting that it was her fault. She didn't want to push him too far and she didn't want to wind Tito up more than he had been already.

At least she was willing to help tidy a mess. That was something you’d never catch King Daven or Prince Shane doing.

Setek watched the young woman with the faintest of smiles, pleased that his point had been accurately made. For all that she rarely listened, and chose to act out more often than not, Setek was confident that he had managed Jasmine’s development to a level that would facilitate his plans.

“I am hardly going to work myself into a rage over some spoiled clothing, however, the infestation of young people in my chambers...” Setek didn't move far, choosing to settle himself in the wing backed chair in the antechamber of his rooms rather than the more comfortable couch in the dayroom. After so long seated, bent over his workstation, Setek’s leg was paining him.

“Begone, both of you; the sun is up. Nighttime is my expertise, and I leave the daylight for the insufferably enthusiastic such as yourselves.”

Tito looked horrified at Setek, torn between following Jazz out and trying to stay to sort out the clothes. He liked spending time with Jazz when she wasn't teasing him, he really did, but alone was another story. He felt safe with Setek around to protect him. But alone with Jazz... The possibility that the King or Shane would see them... That worried Tito to no end now.

Jazz was just smiling away. She grabbed the last of the clothes from the floor and placed them on the nearest thing, another chair before grabbing Tito’s hand. “Thanks Setek, you’re the best. I’ll bring Tito back soon, I promise.”

And with that, Tito was been pulled out of the room by one excited princess to God know’s where, with a face full of fear as if he was going to his own beheading.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tito Character Portrait: Setek
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Ayian Kingdom - Warmth cycle: Day 35 - Morning -

There was something to be said for the tenacity of the young. Setek retired to his seat by the window soon after Tito and the princess had left his rooms, content to sit in the shadowy sunlight and gaze out onto the courtyard below. He remembered being young, but never so carefree. It was a blessing, perhaps, that even in a place of such oppression the young could find their entertainment.

Long ago, Setek had assumed that he would never sleep within the walls of a castle again, let alone lower his head in fealty to a tyrant, but the call of destiny was apparently to great even for him. He smiled, more at his own limitations than at the situation itself, because there was little humour in such wickedness. Once, he had entertained the idea of explaining a little of his history to the fool that sat upon the throne, but an even greater evil lay that way. Setek was not willing to nurse destiny through this dilemma any more than he already had.

Things were undoubtedly coming to a head. It was clear in the whisper of the trees and the way the bone dice fell that a great change would soon be upon them. It had been sixteen years of watching and waiting, but Setek felt little impatience; sixteen years was but a trifle.

With the sunlight sparking in his eyes and trifles in mind, Setek cast himself into the deep, reaching for the halls of his ancestors. For a second that was an eternity he stood on a precipice; dancing the knife-edge as his body chilled and the light became a distant thing. He found himself in the shadow of the everlasting, and smiled. He was familiar, and this was a place of his making.

‘We stand on the point of destiny hinging,’ he told the silent watchers; forefathers behind and the promise of descendants in the future looming out in front. ‘Do you deny this?’

The response, as always, was honest; a firm and resounding ‘nay’ that slacked his already drooping muscles. If his eyes had been open, they would have rolled back as his body slumped against the window and deeper into death. No movement of air stirred the window as Setek surveyed the vaulted halls.

‘I know what must be done, that path has been long set. However, where I should stand remains a mystery to me. The Fool remains on The Throne of Kings, and The Bastard nips at the heels of destiny without knowing the folly of such measures. To take the Throne by force is to take The Fool’s Crown… children. They are all of them children.’

The spirits laughed; the old ones, long past cackling with the susurration of leaves and bone meal, while those who existed in anticipation; the promise of children to come, tittered like a morning river. It was a lullaby for him, to lure him deeper into the cold keep of the ancient halls, but Setek was far too worldly to be lulled. ‘Speak,’ he ordered. ‘I have long paid the price for your council.’

He was met by a soft affirmative; the whisper of a last breath and a bloody taste in his mouth. Before him, the image of twin cities scattered into being, one wrought from grave dirt, the other a collection of bones. The dirt city remained steadfast, but from it a rot spread; coursing across the divide and invading the city of bone until both fell into festering ruin.

Setek frowned and the image reformed. The cities stood as they had before, but this time it was the bone city that rose up, spewing an army of white build of fingertips to storm the grave dirt keep. For a moment, it looked as if there would be triumph, but bone after bone was poured into the flattening ; soon enough, the castle collapsed into itself, leaving joint ruin once again.

‘Destiny as it should not be. I have seen this image before.’ Setek was not impatient so much as tired. ‘The answer, please.’

The answer he was given was perhaps as cryptic as it had ever been, but he had long since grown used to reading the convoluted musings of the dead and unborn. The solution to his dilemma was apparently his own staff, dropped from the heaves to swing in a wide ark, the carven head sweeping from the gates of bone to the gates of dirt in a single smooth ark. Setek sighed.

And breathed.

In the window seat, his body twitched, slack muscles renewing their tension and taking up a frantic shuddering. Death was cold, and often left him weakened, but such things were unavoidable when the scry consistently told him so little. He would have liked nothing better than to remain in his place, or perhaps call for a servant to tend to his needs, for his efforts had left him drained and dizzy, but there was much to do and little time in which to do it.

His visions, the images in the crystals that had been spelled only firmer with the roll of bone dice and runic exploration, were now quite clear. He was needed in Illenia with all haste if he was to avert certain disaster.

It was a product of his haste that lead to Setek finding Tito some three candle-marks later, dressed for a hard ride, with their horses already prepared and waiting in the stables.

“I am sorry, Tito, but we must away I’m afraid. I have urgent business outside of the city that cannot be delayed.”

Setting

4 Characters Present

Character Portrait: William Abel Character Portrait: King Leonard Character Portrait: Lady Rose Kress Dunn Character Portrait: Lady Sch??n de Volkan
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Ilenian Kingdom - Warmth Cycle Day 37 - Morning

As a rule, William of Abel liked being early, and made a habit of it. Thus, to walk to the throne room door and to find Dame Schön de Volkan already there worried him at first. Was he late? A moment's thought revealed the answer: first he mused on why he had been called. He realised it as quickly: this probably concerned the annual search for the Lost Princess, and the men behind her death. But that meant a third would be joining them....

As if on cue, Dame Rose arrived. With that, the three, flanked by guards, entered the throne room and knelt before the king. He listened to the now-expected charge from the King, and though he dared not show it, his eyes widened. To Aiya? That hellhole? Why would they go there? And what would the Aiyans think to see three Ilenian Knights wandering about, searching for their lost princess? Did the King suspect them?

A moment later he listened as Dame Schön voiced her concern. He agreed with the concerns of relations with the Aiyan kingdom, but he frowned at her solution. He decided he would have to say something at that. The only thing worse than knights parading through a country without apparent goodwill of the King would be for knights caught skulking about. It would look like a military operation no matter what they said. They would be executed promptly, if not slaughtered when caught, and Aiya and Ilenia would be at war. But voicing these problems was worthless without an alternative. He carefully craned his neck to look up at Lady Schön, not wanting to appear disrespectful to the King. "Dame Schön, if I may be permitted to propose an alternative, I must first explain why. Firstly, I agree with your primary concerns. Three Knights of Ilenia parading around Aiya would indeed cause unrest. However, subterfuge would only exacerbate the problem. The Aiyan monarch would naturally suspect the worst. Being open, but subtle, about why we are there may be better. If we can let the Aiyan people know we mean no ill, they will likely leave us be, and may even help us."

He stood slowly, then bowed carefully to the King. "That is my only reservation, Your Majesty. I am otherwise fully ready to resume the search where our comrades have left off. Even if many have...given up hope, we can still act, and must, always."

Setting

1 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Prince Shane(neeth De Nearo)
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#, as written by Saken
Aiya. Warmth Day 35 Mid-Afternoon

Shane loved to lounge around in his bedchambers, play with his sword, and flirt with the maids- but his heart really was not in it. The green eyed Prince stared into his mirror, scrunching his nose up at his reflection. His hair was shaggy, falling around his ears and curling at the back of his neck, something he had learned that the women liked (or, at least, they said as much. The Prince had a few issues getting straight answers out of his citizens). Raking his fingers through his hair to fluff it up a bit, the Prince donned his trademark smirk and headed out of his room, his sword strapped at his hip.

He was dressed finely, as befitting his stature, and most of the servants and slaves managed to skitter away or make themselves even more invisible as he swaggered by, afraid for their life. Everyone knew of Shane’s temper, and there was a quick flurry of whispers before he managed to reach the courtyards. He looked around, his nose scrunching up as he ground his teeth. Where was Jazz? Where was his sister?

Looking up at the sky for a moment, he noticed the sun was bright in the sky, the day cloudless, blue. Beautiful, ironic considering the darkness that hid in the kingdom…

Shane grabbed a nearby maid, his fingers curling around her bicep hard.

“Go find my sister, now, and bring her to me.”

He didn’t even both to look at the quivering, near crying woman, simply dropped his hold on her and leaned back against the castle walls, awaiting for his sister to be delivered to him so he could work on seducing her, again.