The Fellowship of the Ring Werewolf

[E.N.]

In the deep hush of night, when shadows gathered thickest, a fateful weakness assailed the ringbearer Frodo. Drawn by the perilous lustre of the One Ring, he yielded to its ancient, insidious call, and upon his finger, the golden menace slid.

Instantly, from the high towers of Barad-dûr, a dreadful alarm was struck! The Eye, sleepless and terrible, pierced the enfolding darkness, a searing beam of malice that crossed leagues in a blink. The very air shivered with the knowledge of the Ring’s presence, and the remaining forces of evil were roused to a heightened fury.

Yet, by some grace of fate, the exact location of the ringbearer remained veiled, a pinpoint of light shimmering maddeningly beyond their true grasp. Frustrated, the enemy could not precisely seize its prize. Instead, the wrathful will of Mordor lashed out, a sweeping, blind blow of pure malice directed at the suspected region. And there, amongst the innocent and the unwary, was struck down one known by the humble name of Maeve the Madam, who perished instantly, a tragic, unintended sacrifice to the eternal War.

The forces of evil are now more keenly attuned to the call and power of the ring, and desperately seek its call again, that their vision may, perchance, improve

Maeve the Madam was Merry Brandybuck, The Whisperer, Hobbit of The Shire