The Hope of the Redoran, it's not the same story, i assure you Options

[Dreamer]

How proud we once were, how hard we once fought, how bravely we once died, but now, it is finished.

I am Faryn Indarys, House Brother of the Great House Redoran. My father, the great Banden Indarys was once a master of my house. Now, he lies dead at the hands of an assassin. I have long suspected the Hlaalu, alas, their actions have been without consequence, as our leaders, our capital and indeed our House lies in ruin.

We exist now as little more than a guild...some of us sell our services for the septim, others plunder, pillage and steal to maintain their former decadance. Warriors like myself are a dying breed.

Our leader, the ignoble mercenary Branys Morvayn, a son of the ill-fated Morvayn bloodline, has taken it upon himself to transform what we once were into what we now are. He competes with the Guild of Fighters for...contracts. To him, the contract is the way of the future. To me, it is the way to decadence. Our House fell apart because of greed, ignobility and infighting, so I cannot see how these evils can restore our honour.

Still, I am a warrior, and a Redoran, and I shall restore our honour, or I shall die a failure.

[Dreamer]

Every time I looked at my brothers deep red eyes my soul died a little. A fiercely religious man, Orvas had grown up with the Tribunal. Vivec, Almalexia and Sotha Sil were his lords, not Great House Redoran. My father was displeased, but understanding of Orvas' decision to lend his services entirely to the temple. He became a healer, of sorts. he travelled across Vvardenfell, aiding the needy and the greedy alike, all in the name of the Tribunal.

But now the Tribunal, so much like our way of life, is finished, crushed, beneath the fury of the Nerevarine. A wretched shame it is that the Incarnate was not here to protect us. The Hlaalu, the Dres and His Majesty King Helseth himself seem devoted to our absolute destruction, and no shame would there be in that but for their methods. They fight us, not like warriors from without, but like assassins, from within. They destroy us by destroying our ideals, and our honour. They corrupt us, from the lowliest soldier to our leader, Branys Morvayn himself. All seem to have become the puppets of a sick ventiloquist, determined to rip us to pieces, slowly, surely and emotionlessly.

Now, I must devote myself. Not to a god, like my brother did, not to the Empire as the Hlaalu did and not to power, like Helseth did, but to my House. Myself, my brother Orvas, and some others have banded together. We have decided to put a stop to the deterioration of our House. We have said no more. If it takes a thousand duels to restore our honour, we will do it. If we have to wage open war against King Helseth we will do it. If we must walk naked into the heart of Oblivion...we will do it.

House Redoran shall be Great once more, this I swear.