The Origins and History of House Connington
Seat: Griffon's Roost
Sigil: Two combatant griffons, counterchanged, on a red and white field
Words: A Fierce Foe, A Faithful Friend

The Conningtons are a Stormlands house of reasonable power and size, sworn directly to Storm's End. Their rocky lands are not fertile, but they are rich in iron and tin. Famed for their fierce warriors, this house has an ongoing feud with House Morrigen to the south.

The Conningtons claim descent from the First Men, specifically the Griffon Kings of House Greyfeather. Their legends state that the first Griffon King was a man who managed to tame and ride a griffon, despite losing an arm in the process, and who used this advantage to claim rulership over the Giant's Lance (it should be noted that a similar legend has been recorded from the Mountain Clans of the Vale). His descendants, too, could ride griffons if they were tamed as hatchlings.

By the time of the Andal Invasions, the Vale was contested between the Bronze King of Runestone and the Griffon King in the Eyrie, both of whom claimed the title of High King (as well as several petty lords who fought over the title of King of the Fingers, but they were quite ignored by the rest of the Vale). The Andals put an end to that conflict, as Artys Arryn drove the Greyfeathers out of the Eyrie and claimed it for himself before beginning a long war against the Royces of Runestone. How exactly this happened is shrouded in legend – the common tale holds that he flew past the Eyrie's defenses on a giant falcon, but the Conningtons (and scholarly opinion) dismiss this as ridiculous. Instead, the Conningtons hold that Arryn dueled King Connwaer Greyfeather and dishonorably killed him with a poisoned blade before announcing that any of the king's kin could duel him for the castle, and be killed, or they could leave. According to this legend, the king's three older sons fought him and died, while his three older daughters swore revenge and fled to establish the first of the Mountain Clans. The king's youngest son and youngest daughter, Connwyn and Keladry, instead determined to leave the Vale entirely. They flew for a day and a night, until their mounts were exhausted, and came to the northernmost extent of the Red Mountains, where they abut Shipbreaker Bay. They named the place where they slept Griffon's Roost, and determined to found a new castle there.

Of course, it seems implausible that two people could build a lordship entirely by themselves, and it is likely that their migration was less desperate and improvised than the tale claims. But the existence of Connwyn and Keladry is not in doubt: inscriptions at Storm's End indicate that people of that name, "hailing from the mountains," swore fealty to King Arlan "The Bald" Durrandon and received permission to settle in the lands owned by House Connington today.

Although the founders of the house dreamed they would be free of Andal interference outside the Vale, the Stormlands were being penetrated by the time of Connwyn's grandson. Particularly important to the story of the Conningtons is House Morrigen. It was founded by the knight Ser Gerold Morrigen, who announced his presence in the stormlands by seizing a large amount of land claimed by the Griffon Lord. The two young houses fought fiercely, both sides hard to dislodge from their positions in the mountains. Though the griffon riders were deadly, there were but few of them, and making use of their unparalleled ability to fly and strike anywhere risked them getting cut off from support and overwhelmed. This war supposedly lasted for ten years, until Gerold's daughter Jerene Morrigen disguised herself as a washerwoman, infiltrated Griffon's Roost, made her way to the hatchery – empty, because every griffon rider was out fighting – and smashed every single griffon egg the Conningtons had. This act devastated the carefully bred griffon stock, and losses from the war rendered griffons extinct in the Red Mountains in another generation. At this point, the Conningtons agreed to a peace. They would, however, be forever resentful, and the feud with House Morrigen would cause headaches for their Durrandon or Baratheon overlords until the present day.

The Griffons
No discussion of House Connington would be complete without mentioning the animal on their heraldry. That they were once griffon riders is beyond doubt; there are too many accounts, from both Andals and First Men, to dispute this.

Native to the Vale, the griffon is a majestic creature with the wings, head and forequarters of an eagle and the hindquarters of a lion. Their fur is not a tawny color as a lion's is, but rather a shaggy grey, and their feathers are grey and white. Full-grown, they are as tall as horses, and much heavier. They will re-use the same nest, building it up year after year, until it has reached enormous size; their eggs look like smooth grey stones. They mainly dine on mountain goats, but they are opportunistic predators; griffons have been observed killing and eating farm animals, humans, shadowcats, bears, and even other griffons.

They are solitary and aggressive creatures, who do not tolerate other griffons in their territory. The only exceptions are during mating season, when a mated pair will take turns at guarding the nest and hunting for food. According to Connington records, griffons mate for life, but it is uncertain if this behavior exists in the wild. Once the young griffons are able to hunt on their own, they leave. At this point, even their own parents will kill them for lingering too long in their territory.

Legends state that griffons detest the sound of lies, and will attack anyone who tells a lie in their presence; this is difficult to verify, as griffons will attack most people.

The griffons of House Connington were still quite wild. They would only accept to be mounted by one who had raised them from the egg, and were liable to attack any other who came close; they had to be separated from their kin to keep from fighting; and it was not uncommon for a Connington to lose fingers to the griffon they were attempting to train. Despite this, many has been the Connington lord who wishes to restore the griffon riders. All these attempts have failed, for three reasons: Firstly, griffons have become rare, even in the Vale. Secondly, their remaining habitations are in the most distant and inhospitable regions of the mountains. Thirdly, griffon nests are always guarded by at least one of the parents. No Connington yet has managed to travel to the Mountains of the Moon, find a griffon's nest, steal the eggs, and make it back out alive.
 
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Lastly, and this is perhaps most important to understand: your punishment is about your attitude towards Lyanna in general and your words and actions today in particular. This is not nor will it ever be about Elia. She respects your decision and so do I. Your heart is your own, and you will never be disfavored or punished for what your heart wants, one way or the other. So you are aware, when your confinement is ended, you will be continuing your lessons with her. She thinks you need more lessons, and I trust her judgment, in this and in all things. It is not a punishment for either of you, it is not a continued matchmaking attempt, it is only to help you personally, and to help you better serve the Royal Family.
I like the plan, but I'm unsure why you're adding this part in. I'm not opposed to this conversation, but it doesn't really fit in right after we're furiously chewing him out over how incredibly moronic his actions, not only today, but in general have been.

Otherwise your plan is a vast improvement! I'll go over it in more detail to give some advice, but you have my vote.

[X] Plan Marlowe310811
 
You have undermined the Crown, you have undermined the public trust in your white cloaks, and you have undermined my trust in you and your fucking unconscionable judgment.
I like this part a lot. I'd replace 'fucking' with 'godsdamn' because we use clusterfuck later on and it sounds better if we mix things up.
First of all, I want to know why you didn't punch the drunkard in the tavern. Or, at the very least, point out that if you're tough enough to get the job, you're probably too dangerous to piss off.
We really shouldn't encourage her to attack strangers who insult her. This kinda runs counter to our entire point, which is that she needs to take these situations with a degree of grace.
You want to survive in this job, you should get a thicker skin.
This is some distinctly modern slang and is unnecessary besides, I'd just cut it out.
Whatever random drunk tavern-dweller fuckwits may think
Take out 'fuckwits,' random drunk tavern dwellers just works great right on its own.
Whatever random drunk tavern-dweller fuckwits may think, when you were given that white cloak and charged with protecting my family, we were under the impression that you'd take the damn role as something other than a joke! When you go out and do your duties in the name of the Crown, the very least we expect is that you won't attack your comrades like an animal because they're mean to you. And stop bringing up his damn brother. No excuses, no second chances. I don't need you to be friends, but you're going to stop antagonizing him.
Overall this part is excellent, you have my approval and congratulations.
Give that some thought, fucking hotshot*.
Leave off on the 'how much damage did you cause to that today?' It works great as a parting shot, and the profanity doesn't really add anything.
--[X] To Jaime: First, I want an after-action report. I already know what happened. You were given a task in your service to me, and you failed spectacularly. I want to hear from you what you think you did wrong today. Make an effort this time to think before you speak. Now, Lady Lyanna Stark is a Kingsguard, whether you like it or not. She is your comrade, she is owed respect, and you will treat her as such. You are sworn to aid your fellow Kingsguard in the performance of their duties. If you think she is mediocre, you do not publicly mock her, you offer to help her. You do not badmouth her and you do not take sides against her. You should have either ignored that moron or punched his teeth out, not abandoned your comrade and duty out of petulance.
Excellent opener for Jaime.
The King is a batshit festering twat.
Eh, this just sound so off to me, but it's probably because I'm an American and 'twat' has zero meaning. I'd go "The King is a gaping cunt." Probably pause for a second as Jaime chokes on his spit.
(not to mention the King is mentally unstable, murderhappy and distrustful of Lannisters already, are you completely insane, Jaime?!).
What exactly is the in parentheses stuff supposed to mean in a conversation? Is he saying this? Thinking it?
You're obviously either incompetent or indifferent about your family's political situation, seeing as you've fucked over your father about seven different ways in joining the Kingsguard.
I'd replace 'incompetent' with 'ignorant,' which is both better grammar and more meaningful. Othwise, excellent. Just cut out the Elia part - it's better if he thinks we don't know about that - and you're golden.
 
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Eh, this just sound so off to me, but it's probably because I'm an American and 'twat' has zero meaning. I'd go "The King is a gaping cunt." Probably pause for a second as Jaime chokes on his spit.
IIRC both are used fairly interchangeably in canon, but I agree with your thoughts on shock value. I kept 'festering' though, out of a fondness for the descriptor.
Just cut out the Elia part - it's better if he thinks we don't know about that
I take your point there, it's probably best not to let him know...right away, at least, if at all...that we're in the know.

Beyond that, thanks for the input, and the vote :smile:
 
Some final final suggestions, I promise!
We should replace this with 'Realm's trust.' We already said public and the idea of 'the public' isn't really in the medieval mindset.
No excuses, no second chances.
This is kinda extreme, I'd just say something along the lines of that we're out of patience with their constant shit, and it needs to stop now.
especially the King, who has ears everywhere, is mentally unstable, murderhappy and distrustful of Lannisters already, are you suicidal or completely insane, Jaime?!
This seems hysterical. I'd replace 'eyes and ears evrywhere' with just a general mention of how many people who'd love to court favor with him and his frightengly effective Essosi spymaster. Replace 'murderhappy' and 'mentally unstable' with homicidal and unhinged - stay in character - and just go and leave out the 'are you nuts?!?' part.
 
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For some reason I will like to add to jaime something of "I give you brightroar because I belive that I could trust you to uphold your white cloak and so far you have prove your devotion to the clock by fighting against one of your companions in something so simple as recruting some guard, all because and little act of petulant and pride....i......

....Im disapontied with you right now"

Granted, I will feel very manipulative and a little bit gaslighting, something Littlefinger could pull of but not rhaegar, isnt?.

With Lysanna would be the same "If you want to prove something to Jaime, you could challange him here, you try to joust him, you could just talk to him, you could do other hundred of things rather than risk the white cloack over a little fight in something so trivial as smallfolk mouthing you off, I sort expect that behivor from a warrior of a montain clan or even worst: from a Barathon".

I dont know if that could fit in, I can see something twing would said and I guess It will make you too similar to our dad.

Also, those anyone else noted our little fake septa USE magic?.
 
Two Young Whitecloaks
[X] Sign it (2,500 Dr)

[X] Have them spend a few days in the dungeons

[X] Pay it yourself
Perhaps you can convince the owner to change the name while you're at it. (75 Dr). Intimate that it would behoove him to not rename it anything even remotely suggestive of this incident.

"Thank you both." Jaime and Lyanna stop struggling for a minute to look at you. "Really. As Crown Prince and Lord of Dragonstone, I didn't have enough problems to deal with, so how fortunate am I to have two Kingsguard who insist upon airing their private grievances while serving me in public!" You spit out the words as they come to you, possessed as you are by an icy rage. "Since you appear to be busy tearing each other's throats out, do you want me to tell you how many different ways you have screwed up? Beyond brawling at all, let alone in public, beyond the damage to that tavern, you have caused serious damage to your honor, to the reputation of the Kingsguard, and to me. Through your combined arrogance and stupidity you have caused harm that will likely echo far beyond this island and many years into the future. You have undermined the Crown, the realm's trust in you, and my trust in you with your…gods-damned unconscionable judgment!" Both of them are losing their confidence now, having finally realized that they did something wrong. You're not finished, however. "Both of you will be cooling your heels in the dungeons while I try to minimize the damage from this…" mistake seems too mild a word. "…grand clusterfuck." You meet Arthur's eyes and wave a hand curtly. "Take them out of my sight."

There's more to be said to them, but not in front of each other, and it will more likely sink in after they've had time to cool off. You'll talk with them privately, one on one, after they've known some quiet. And you're slightly less angry at them. Perhaps if you were still quick, you would be able to hear the blood pounding in your ears; as it is, you hear stern and terrible chimes of ice. The song forms a voice as you sit watching them leave: Your servants have potential, but so uncontrolled, so willful, they will never realize it. The solution is –

No. No, you're not going to do that. You're not going to do that to them. No.

You rise from your seat. You need a way to bleed off your anger, to silence that insistent voice before you do something regrettable. You need your harp, and solitude.

Lyanna Stark stares at you through the bars of her cell. Not openly defiant, but not quite contrite either; you decide that she's wearing the expression of one who is prepared to accept punishment but still regrets nothing. She's removed her armor and sent it off to be cleaned, so she stands before you in a quilted tunic and thin leggings. If she feels cold in this section of the castle, heated by nothing but the underground fire that fuels the Dragonmont, she gives no sign of it. Seeing her quiet defiance after a day of confinement is enough to rekindle your anger somewhat.

"Stark…"

"Your grace," she says politely.

"First of all," you say, "I want to know why you didn't ignore that drunkard in the tavern."

"Wouldn't that have also tarnished the honor of the Kingsguard?" she retorts. "Besides–"

"Standing above the scorn of your lessers is a strength in itself. Or you could have pointed out that if you're good enough to get the job, you're probably too dangerous to piss off. You're going to need to develop a tougher hide...and a quicker wit wouldn't hurt, either. Because if you honestly thought that your position and actions wouldn't attract scorn you're even stupider than Jaime." That gets a reaction. She flinches and rears up as if you'd struck her. "You have to learn how to deal with it somehow."

"And I can't deal with it by punching the fuckers in the face?"

"You didn't punch Jaime in the face. You drew steel on him. Arthur tells me the wound on his hand was from when he grabbed your dagger to stop it from going in his eye. Do you deny this?"

"…No," she says, more quietly.

"What he said was wrong, and I will be talking with him, but you must realize that you are not a spotless innocent here. When you were given that white cloak and charged with protecting my family, we were under the impression that you'd take your role as something other than a joke! As a representative of the Crown, the very least we expect is that you won't attack your comrades like an animal because they were mean to you. Otherwise, how can I trust you at all?" She is silent for a while. "Kingsguard oaths are for life, remember. Please don't make me regret that."

"Do you…do you think I deserve my cloak, your grace?" She looks down, refusing to make eye contact.

It is a difficult question to answer. "In my father's place, I would not have offered the position to a complete unknown, based on his performance in one tourney. But…you did win your cloak fairly. He offered you the position before anyone knew who you were, remember." She's still looking down, wringing her hands. Something is bothering her. Does she really fear that she doesn't belong here?

"I think you do deserve that cloak," you say, and she finally looks up. "But you'll need to prove it. To everyone who doubts you, perhaps even yourself. You'll need to prove yourself worthy every day for the rest of your life, and you don't do that by brawling in taverns." You turn to go, but one more thing strikes you: "Oh, and stop bringing up his brother. It's unnecessary and it just makes you seem childish." Yes, she hates being called a child.

"I don't really have anything against his brother," she says defensively, "I just do it because I know it makes him angry."

You sigh, turning around fully. "I need you to repeat what you just said until you realize what's wrong with it, please."

"I don't have anything against his brother, I just do it because I know it makes him angry?"

"Again."

"I don't have anything against his brother…" she mutters, starting to pace, then, "Oh! Is it because his brother doesn't deserve it?"

"No, Lyanna," you snap, "It's because you shouldn't be purposefully antagonizing Jaime Lannister at all! For the love of the gods, I don't need you to be friends, but I need you to be able to cooperate!"

She turns her gaze down again. "…sorry."

Jaime Lannister, in contrast to Lyanna, shows a lot more animation as you approach. There is a nervous tension in his bow and greeting that you do not miss. He knows that you are angry at him, and that distresses him. You need to make sure he understands why.

"I want a report." You hold up a finger, stilling the words on his tongue. "Now, I already know what happened: I gave you a task and you failed spectacularly. I want to hear from you what you think you did wrong."

He doesn't have to think long; good, it seems he's been pondering this on his own. "I spoke poorly of the Kingsguard and the King," he says.

"That's basically correct, if an understatement. Lady Lyanna Stark is a Kingsguard, whether you like it or not. She is owed respect. Furthermore, she is your comrade. You are sworn to aid your fellow Kingsguard in the performance of their duties. If you think she needs improvement, you offer to help her. You do not side against her, and you most certainly do not mock her in public!

"As for the king…you obviously don't care much for politics, but surely you must realize that it is not acceptable to besmirch the royal family like that."

"Even if I was just stating the obvious?" he resists. "It's not as if I called the king a festering cunt, after all." The fool, he doesn't realize how serious this is.

"The king is a festering cunt," you say in frustration, before – oh, gods, did you just say that out loud? Lannister's jaw drops. Keep going! Take advantage of the effect! "…which is why neither your white cloak nor your family name will protect you, if he thinks you an enemy. The king sees enemies everywhere, and his Master of Whispers finds them for him. He could humiliate you, or kill you, and do the same to your family. You're right, the king acts according to his whims, and his whims are often violent things."

Lannister is…not taking this well. He has stumbled back several steps, and now looks at you, his face somewhere between baleful and horrified. "Is it true…what they say?" he whispers. "Is the king mad?"

"Yes," you admit. The two of you stand there for some time. You can't say what he's thinking, but you find yourself facing a familiar despair. Each time you struggle past it, and your father spirals further down, and it returns worse than before. You don't have any hope for him, anymore.

"Jaime," you break the silence, to raise your own spirits as much as his, and you say: "I gave you that sword because I genuinely believe you could be one of the best knights Westeros has ever seen. But you must realize that being a Kingsguard involves more than just being good at fighting. Being a knight, even – recall your oaths. You've brought dishonor on me, yourself, and the institution with your actions and words. I don't want that to happen again." Your tone is soft and sad; almost gentle. You no longer have the energy to be angry with him.

He nods, still shaken. You take your leave.

Oh, this chapter was a bitch to write. I was going to do the Velaryons next, but since that's going to involve more Targaryen family drama...no, next chapter is going to be Oberyn's arrival: much more fun to write and to read. Get ready for a multi-part experience of votes, boats, and exotic drugs!
 
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You know... I'm glad we had this setback, if it means we manage to work on making our Kingsguard worthy of the name.

This update was truly packed with emotional weight. These were some very needed conversations.
 
All in all, a welcome update, and as @Aramis said, some desperately needed conversations. Plus some interesting tidbits from them!
"Do you…do you think I deserve my cloak, your grace?" She looks down, refusing to make eye contact.
...
She's still looking down, wringing her hands. Something is bothering her. Does she really fear that she doesn't belong here?
Well, that certainly explains why Jaime's attitude has been needling her so much. Hopefully she decides to use that antagonistic nature to prove Jaime wrong rather than just lash out in kind in the future. I wonder if that could end up being her motivation to improve? --sure, I could insult his family or his intelligence, but working to be as good or better than him? that'll get under his skin--
"I don't really have anything against his brother," she says defensively, "I just do it because I know it makes him angry."

You sigh, turning around fully. "I need you to repeat what you just said until you realize what's wrong with it, please."

"I don't have anything against his brother, I just do it because I know it makes him angry?"

"Again."

"I don't have anything against his brother…" she mutters, starting to pace, then, "Oh! Is it because his brother doesn't deserve it?"
*sigh* also yes, but still not the specific problem.
I admit, I LOLed pretty hard--I did almost exactly the same thing as a kid, except I was being belligerently daft about it. Here, I think Lyanna's just genuinely not getting it.

Jaime Lannister, in contrast to Lyanna, shows a lot more animation as you approach. There is a nervous tension in his bow and greeting that you do not miss. He knows that you are angry at him, and that distresses him. You need to make sure he understands why.
...
He doesn't have to think long; good, it seems he's been pondering this on his own.
Definitely a relief that he's taking this more seriously than Lyanna was, and he sincerely wants to do his job right--yay for little victories!
"He could humiliate you, or kill you, and do the same to your family. You're right, the king acts according to his whims, and his whims are often violent things."

Lannister is…not taking this well. He has stumbled back several steps, and now looks at you, his face somewhere between baleful and horrified.
I wonder if in that moment it truly sunk in that his actions could put Cersei & Tyrion in danger. I know that despite his facade of arrogance and aloofness he does care about the realm and the smallfolk, at least in the abstract, but he'd definitely violate his oath to protect either of them long before he'd break it to protect the realm or the smallfolk.
next chapter is going to be Oberyn's arrival: much more fun to write and to read. Get ready for a multi-part experience of votes, boats, and exotic drugs!
oooh, this should be a kick--great update (as usual)!
 
I do NOT like th voice in our head trying to use the power of ice.

This powers are good but we cant trust them, not at all.
 
That said, though...
The song forms a voice as you sit watching them leave: Your servants have potential, but so uncontrolled, so willful, they will never realize it. The solution is –

No. No, you're not going to do that. You're not going to do that to them. No.
Out of curiosity, what was the 'voice' suggesting here--just straight-up making them wights? Or is there some method that creates an unquestionably loyal & controllable subject without lobotomizing/zombiefying them in the process? I have completely innocent and non-nefarious reasons for asking.
 
That said, though...

Out of curiosity, what was the 'voice' suggesting here--just straight-up making them wights? Or is there some method that creates an unquestionably loyal & controllable subject without lobotomizing/zombiefying them in the process? I have completely innocent and non-nefarious reasons for asking.
You're on the right track. As a rule, wights can't really do anything that requires intelligence, subtlety, or fine motor skills.
 
You're on the right track. As a rule, wights can't really do anything that requires intelligence, subtlety, or fine motor skills.
Innnnteresting. I don't see any abilities like that under our magic, so I assume the voice would walk us through it in the moment.
...
...
How does the forum feel about making a thrall out of dear old dad?
 
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Likely to blow in our faces. I want to use magic as little as possible. Just poison the old man and be done with it.
Valid point: it's more of a 'hey here's a batshit nuts idea' and thinking it could give Rhaegar an out as opposed to just killing his dad. Making him a puppet would allow us to mitigate the worst of his problems, and without blood on Rhaegar's hands. Plus, it might feel good in the nastier parts of his heart to force Aerys to be nice to people [read: mom & Viserys]
 
Alternatively, convince Aerys to drink wildfire to become a dragon then make a public statement that he accidentally committed suicide. As it is, let's wait until Daenerys is born before the mad king situation resolves itself one way or the other.
 
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