gondolindrim | The time is drawing near.

Rae: *walks into the room where Finrod is held, followed by three
other cult members* Brothers, I see that our guest has been suitably
restrained. *kneels down in front of Finrod* Your time is drawing
near.

Finrod: *cold look* We'll see.

Rae: *strokes Finrod's hair* Can you not feel it? The city wants you.
Only a little while longer until it claims you for its own.

Finrod: *jerks his head back* You're mad.

Rae: *eyes narrow* You cannot feel the soul of the city in which you
live, and I am the mad one? *grabs his jaw and jerks his head to one
side* I should teach you some respect. *One of the cult members clears
his throat and she lets go* But my hands must remain clean, if I am to
offer the sacrifice. *nods at a rather large elf*

Finrod: The soul of the city is your excuse. I hardly think your hands are clean. *rapidly trying to come up with a silent defensive spell*

Rae: *stands up and takes a step back* Brothers, his spirit is not yet
contrite. *A large blond cult member looms over Finrod* There is still
time to change. A little time. The city grows restless. *The large
blond elf raises his hand to strike Finrod across the face*

Finrod: *sharp intake of breath, groaning a little* If you're going to torment me, at least have the decency to do it yourself...

Rae: My role is not to torment, but rather to elicit a contrite and
submissive spirit from the sacrifice, be it willing or unwilling.
Either way, your blood must be spilled. The city requires it.

Finrod: *will never be willing and contrite* The city requires it... *derisive tone*

Rae: Why do you think time and space have been so horribly warped? Why
do you think Elves from both the past and future arrive here nearly on
a daily basis? Why do you think dwarves and those...human creatures
appear on our streets? Wargs in our sewers? It is because the city is
angry. It demands sacrifice, and I will honor that requirement.

Finrod: *glares* And what kind of twisted elf performs sacrifices?

Rae: The kind that respects and loves the city in which she lives and
the magic upon which it was built. For years we lived here in peace,
worshipful and respectful of the protection the city provided, but
now...Now, the city demands action. I will do whatever it takes to
please it.

Finrod: True magic wouldn't require a sacrifice.

Rae: You're wrong. There's always a price for true magic. In this
case, the price is blood. *withdraws a dagger and holds it up so it
gleams in the dim light*

Finrod: *can't help a shudder*

Rae: You're quite a tall Elf. Lots of blood to offer the city. *nods
to the cult member who, holds Finrod by the shoulders* Strong blood,
as evidenced by your will. Strong blood makes good magic. *In a flash,
she's in front of Finrod and swipes the blade across the side of his
neck, deep enough to draw a trickle of blood* Yes, that looks quite
strong.

Finrod: *hisses sharply, jerking back* More than you know.

Rae: Is it? Let's find out for certain. *swipes the other side of his
neck, a bit deeper this time and watches as a cult member collects it
into a silver cup* I could nick you with little cuts for the rest of
the day, but that is not what the city wants. *she closes her eyes and
inhales deeply* It is almost time.

Finrod: *grimaces, tugging at his bonds in annoyance; curses her*