kneel before the power of the Elven King!

The town of Riverwood woke up to a calm and peaceful morning. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and damp earth. It was a small, quiet place, nestled between green hills and a winding river. Life here moved at a gentle pace.

I, Talion, stood on the town wall, looking out over the fields and homes below. At twenty-six, I was the guard captain of Riverwood. My house was close to the gates, allowing me to sleep at home and still respond quickly if any danger arose. My days were filled with routine—patrolling, training with my sword, and doing my best to protect the people.

The town was my home, and its people were like family to me. I was married to Ioreth, whose smile could light up the darkest day. Our son, Dirhael, was five years old now. Full of energy, he was always running around, asking countless questions, and swinging sticks like they were swords. Ioreth often said he'd grow up to be just as rebellious as I was in my youth. His laugh echoed through the town square, and it always brought a smile to my face.

As I descended from the wall, I spotted Baren, the town's blacksmith, hammering away at the forge. His wife, Elia, was arranging fresh loaves of bread at their stall beside him. The scent of warm, baked food filled the air.

"Captain Talion!" Baren called out, pausing his work to wave me over. His arms were thick with muscle, forged from years of bending steel. "You're up early again."

"A guard captain never really sleeps," I replied with a smile. "How's the forge this morning?"

Baren wiped the sweat from his brow. "Hot, as always. Got a new shipment of ore in, but nothing special. I did hear about a strange ship docking at the river port late last night. Big crew. Said they were traders, but they seemed... off."

"Off how?" I asked, my interest piqued.

"Too drunk, even for traders," Baren said, lowering his voice. "And no goods. Not a single crate or barrel. Makes you wonder why a ship that size came all the way here with nothing to sell."

Baren lowered his voice further. "Not just that—they were drunk. Stumbling around and causing a ruckus. Makes you wonder what they're really up to."

I glanced over at Elia, who had overheard us. She folded her arms and shook her head. "They were asking odd questions, too. About the town's defenses. Baren's right, Captain—it doesn't sit well."

I nodded, my suspicions growing. "I'll look into it. Thanks for letting me know."

Before heading to the docks to investigate, I passed by Elia's stall and couldn't resist the smell of her freshly baked bread. "Elia, those sweetrolls you make are still the best in town. Think I could take a few off your hands?"

Elia smiled warmly, packing a small basket with sweetrolls. "You spoil Ioreth and Dirhael with these, don't you? I'll be expecting a thank you from your wife later."

I grinned, handing her a few coins. "Dirhael's been begging me for these all week. You've outdone yourself again."

"Five years old and he's already got a sweet tooth, that one," Elia said with a laugh. "Ioreth's going to have a handful on her hands soon enough."

"That she does," I replied. "Thanks, Elia."

I walked toward my home, passing by the town square, where the market was beginning to stir with activity. The morning sun cast long shadows over the cobblestones as vendors prepared their goods for the day.

When I reached my house, Ioreth was outside in the garden, her hands gently tending to the flowers. Dirhael was nearby, swinging a wooden sword at an imaginary foe, his face full of concentration.

"Papa!" Dirhael shouted when he saw me, running over with his wooden sword held high. "Look! I'm fighting the bad guys!"

I laughed, crouching down to ruffle his hair. "You're going to need a real sword soon if you keep practicing like that."

Dirhael's eyes lit up. "Can I have a sword now? A real one?"

"Not just yet, little warrior," I said, handing him one of the sweetrolls. "But if you keep practicing, one day I'll make sure you have the best sword in all of Riverwood."

Ioreth approached, wiping dirt from her hands. "Already trying to turn him into a guard, are you?"

"Someone's got to keep this town safe when I'm old and gray," I replied, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "And I brought you a treat, courtesy of Elia."

Ioreth smiled, taking the basket. "She knows me too well. Dirhael, eat that sweetroll slowly, alright? No running with it."

Dirhael was too busy taking a big bite to respond, and I chuckled as he smeared icing across his face.

As we enjoyed the peaceful moment, I felt a pull toward the docks. Something gnawed at the back of my mind, and I needed to see what was really going on with these so-called traders.

When I arrived at the docks, I was surprised to find several of my guards already there—sitting at a tavern table and sharing drinks with the crew from the ship. They were laughing loudly, mugs clashing together in camaraderie. The large ship, moored at the edge of the pier, loomed over the scene.

"Captain!" one of the guards, Haleth, called out, waving me over with a wide grin. "Come join us! These traders brought some fine ale with them!"

I approached the table, eyeing the crew. Their faces were ruddy and flushed from drink, but there was something off about the way they carried themselves. Their eyes were sharp despite their drunken appearance, constantly flicking around, as if they were calculating something.

One trader in particular stood out. His smile gleamed unnaturally bright, revealing a conspicuous golden tooth that caught the light with every grin. He leaned forward, his grin widening as he spoke. "Good to meet you, Captain. We came for a good time and a good deal. Your town's been kind to us so far."

"Glad to hear it," I said, though my tone was cautious. I leaned against the tavern wall, crossing my arms. "Strange, though. Traders usually bring goods with them. What happened to your cargo?"

One of the other men, a scruffy-looking sailor with a deep scar across his cheek, jumped in quickly, his words slightly slurred. "Ah, well... y'see, we had a bit of bad luck on the way here. Ran into a storm just a day out from Riverwood. Lost most of our supplies overboard. Damn shame, really."

"Is that so?" I replied, eyeing the man's weathered face. "And you're still planning to trade?"

"Of course!" the golden-toothed trader replied cheerfully. "We're just... uh, waiting for reinforcements. Another ship, bringing a fresh load. Should be here within a day or two."

The explanation was weak at best, but my guards were too deep into their cups to notice. I wasn't convinced. These men were hiding something, and I could feel it in the air.

One of the guards, laughing at something one of the sailors said, turned to me and raised his mug. "Come on, Captain! What's the harm in a bit of ale? These men mean no trouble!"

I forced a smile, but inside, I was tense. "Maybe later. I've got rounds to finish."

The golden-toothed trader nodded, watching me carefully. "Fair enough, Captain. We'll be here when you're ready to join us."

As I turned to leave, I couldn't shake the feeling that this ship and its crew were more than they appeared to be. Their story was flimsy, and the way they were already gathering information about the town only added to my suspicions.

Back at home, I noticed the newspaper I had left on the table. I picked it up and scanned the front page. A headline caught my eye: "Golden Tooth Pirates Freed—A $20 Million Bounty on Their Head." Beneath it was a photograph of a rugged man with a golden tooth—a man whose face seemed oddly familiar. "He looks familiar," I muttered, but couldn't place why.

I shook off the unease and went to bed, hoping that my worries were unfounded. As the night settled, a troubling thought lingered in my mind about the pirates and the strange ship.

Suddenly, a loud crash shattered the silence. The town was jolted awake by the sound of explosions and the shrill cries of terror. Flames leapt into the sky, illuminating the chaos below. I bolted upright, heart pounding.

"Talion!" Ioreth's voice called out urgently. "What's happening?"

"There's no time to explain," I said, quickly dressing. "Get Dirhael and head to the shelter. I'll handle this."

The chaos outside was like nothing I had ever seen. Flames roared through the streets, casting a hellish glow. Pirates, masked and wild, were rampaging through Riverwood, their laughter mingling with the screams of the townsfolk. Buildings were ablaze, and the air was thick with smoke and the stench of burning wood

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lemme give him the talion starter pack lol~

here is my baby patreon so i can play shadow of war in a better pc:

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