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The Tenth Wraith
Adelaide, or Addi, was a tragic character. But first, she was beautiful. She had a perfect complexion that she loved to admire in the only mirror in all of Bree. And her hair, dark brown, sensual ringlets that danced upon her shoulders with the slightest of moves. And her eyes! Like purple jewels of the Noldor some had said. And of course, she had the obligatory curves in all the right places. Her parents were killed in a mysterious and random orc raid, and just as mysteriously and randomly the orcs had let her live. Something about fulfilling her destiny. Now, as she crashed through the underbrush in pursuit of Strider and the hobbits, she knew her destiny. It was the One Ring.
She had seen it in a Hobbit's hand as she served customers in The Prancing Pony. It was so shiny, so perfect, and it spoke to her. Remembering the One Ring's words, she quickened her pace. They, those poor ugly Hobbits and that smelly ranger, needed her.
The bushes grabbed at her hair and face, and snagged her cute outfit that she had chosen just for her destiny. It had yards and yards of delicate material, and it made her look Elven fair when seen at just the right angle. The brambles had no mercy, and dress tore to shreds on the thorns and brambles of the wild, but none of this mattered, Addi knew. Even her perfect complexion didn't matter. She had to get to those Hobbits. She had to get to that Ring.
Night was falling. She was barely a shadow of the beauty that ran from Bree earlier. Her dress was nothing but muddy rags; cuts and scrapes covered her face, arms and legs. Her hair had enough twigs in it to fuel a bonfire. It was then, when she almost forgot why she had come all this way, that she saw the dancing light on the hilltop. A campfire! She could see the little hobbits, so tiny and worthless, cowering against great black figures. She put in a final burst of speed.
Just as she came scrambling up the hill, one of the great black figures came from nowhere and stabbed her in her heart with a small dagger. She stumbled, surprised. "But, but," she wailed, "the Ring told me it would make me eternally beautiful! That it would fulfill my glorious destiny!"
"It has fulfilled your glorious destiny," whispered the shadows.
The shadow-men became clear in her sight as darkness filled her tragic soul. They wore crowns, and rich jewelry covered their flowing cloaks. A hobbit cried out, "O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!" The words stung, and she stumbled away from the bright fire and the name of the Valië. Evil consumed her body, leaving only a shadow and her lust for the One Ring.
"Weak, lustful maiden, you are now one of us!"