You open your heavy eyelids. There is a rattling and buzzing in my head, all sounds seem to be muffled. You hardly realize that you are being carried somewhere.

...Where are you? How did you end up here? You only remember how you came to Numenor and decided to visit the capital... And so - an ordinary evening - you walk through the dark streets, but suddenly there is a sharp pain in your head, and then only darkness...

You try to turn your head, but you realize that you can hardly breathe. This is the place... It looks like a temple. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice indistinct drawings on the walls depicting something... Creepy and beyond your control. Remotely, you can hear shouts of glee, but the sounds become more distinct - then the sounds of those who are exhausted in agony are added to the scanning of the crowd.

They're putting you on the Altar. Every nerve cell in your body screams danger, but by the time you attempt to get out, you realize that your arms and legs are shackled with steel shackles, and you are dressed in just some pathetic piece of silk.

Suddenly you hear footsteps and the chanting of the crowd stops. The steps approach the altar on which you are lying and you notice a tall statuesque figure dressed in golden robes... And although you can't see the faces behind the golden mask - only the eyes blazing with a righteous flame - you understand who it is... You've been told about Ar-Pharazôn's advisor.

Zigur the Golden. Someone you would never want to see in your life.

"Let's bring this dirty soul in the name of its redemption, to our Lord and Creator, for it is only by his will that we all exist now! May the blood of this sacrifice be sprinkled on the altar in His name!" You hear Zigur's loud melodious voice, and then your gaze falls on the sacrificial blade, and the mad crowd begins to rejoice again. Is there anything you can do?