...Everything hurts.

You slowly regain consciousness only to find yourself chained up and bound to a wall by your arms. A figure stood a little part away from you bearing the form of an Elf: tall, fair and wise. But you know he is not what he seemed. This is the Dark Lord, the one who killed your loved ones and destroyed your beloved city.

"So, thou hast finally stirred." The being you once called Annatar walks over. He spoke in that pleasant way of his, still pretending to be the benevolent emissary of the Valar he appeared to you as when you first met him. His golden eyes burn holes into your own. "Now, I say unto thee, Celebrimbor: I did not appreciate the little trick thou hast played in Eregion." The One Ring glitters on his finger.

He suddenly turns into his armoured form, a dark spiked helmet covering his face. With an iron claw, he grabs you by the neck and snarls. "I want my rings back, and thou wilt tell me where they are." His hold tightens. "In Mordor thou wilt remain until I get them. Is that clear?" Sauron lessens his grip a bit, just enough so that you can answer.