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Urizair

Ûrizâir "Aphadriel, Calear"
| Name | Urizair |
|---|---|
| Status | Active |
| Occupation | Shipwright and Sailor |
| Age | Born 499 S.A |
| Race | Elf |
|---|---|
| Residence | Umbar Baharbêl, the Stûna |
| Kinship |
| Outward Appearance | Ûrizâir is a planted creature. She stands steady and tall at closer to seven foot than six, her shape rectangular, strong and broad with rounding fat evening out her edges from sharp taut sinew to softer curves. She appears heavy, her elfin nature somewhat obscured when at rest, except perhaps for an unnervingly statuesque quality to her stillness, some look in her eye, or how uncommonly tall she is for any woman in Middle Earth.
It is in movement that an elf's grace is at last revealed in her. She wastes no motion, her actions all appear unhurried and elegant and yet her speed of reaction is entirely inhuman. The weight she appears to walk with, the footfalls that appear heavy, all vanish in a moment of crisis or urgency.
Her complexion is well bronzed by sun and descent both and her dark auburn hair tumbles thick and wild over her wide shoulders and down her back, some tresses half-covering the simple leather patch over her right eye. And the only cosmetic she wears is a stripe of black kohl under her eyes to protect from the sun's glare.
Her features are severe and tall with high planes, a long nose and a narrow eye of deep brown, all of which are usually scowling. So called elven beauty applies to her more in the sense of something artistic and compelling, rather than what one might deem 'feminine' beauty. And she does nothing to rectify this fact, always dressed in practical wear for travel, sea-faring or the work of her hands and all her attire being usually of a mortal style. Even her weapons seem dwarf or man made.
But most of all, Ûrizâir is notable for her rasping purr of a voice, melodic only in it's rhythm, coarsing over sentences like the grinding scrape of a tide pulling away from a pebble beach. Her accent would be hard to place for anyone unfamiliar with the westron dialects of Umbar, but otherwise it is entirely typical of the region and unerringly places her at least amongst Corsair activity. |
|---|
Background
What do I stand to gain if I cease my lament? Do I not live? Badly, I know, but I live.
If you are very lucky, and Ûrizâir is in a particularly talkative mood, one might hear her tell of being born in Edhellond. And that is all you will get out of her on the subject of her young life, at least until mysterious events conspired to see her leaving home upon the deck of the Númerrámar, the first ship of the great mariner Aldarion of Numenor. And, even then, her recollections are sparse on both detail and specificity, only really enjoying recalling her journeys at sea to far flung places. She simply states that she became a part of the Guild of Venturers 'eventually' and that she made a home upon Westernesse until she 'had to leave.'
Whether this enforced leaving was due to the ban on elven ships going to Numenor, or some other incident, she will not say and becomes even more belligerent than usual when pestered. She will acknowledge that she had some part to play in the Last Alliance, though how much or little of that conflict she saw remains unspoken. And how she came to live in Umbar? To make her home amongst pirates and the heretics of old Numenor? Many of whom with a passionate revulsion for the Quendi? Another untold tale on her part, all except for one particular comment; 'I can't stand elves either' she will state, bluntly, 'nor their sycophants.'
And this certainly appears to be the case, given Ûrizâir's perpetual absence from any elven haven since she left Edhellond and her insistence on using the Adûnayân name she acquired as a mariner rather than any Sindarin name her parents might have bestowed her. Her reasons for such an animosity are, predictably, mysterious. But many note a kind of grim ill-temper that comes over her upon the start of any voyage, one that fades in time and that she drowns in work and ale alike, but that is no less persistent. As any accustomed to her will tell you, it is unwise to mention 'sea-longing' in her presence, but whether this is the cause or just a symptom of her prejudice, none could say.
Either way, her occupation now is clear enough at least. After some decades of building Heirsworn ships in exchange for their favour, she appears to have struck a similar bargain with the Kindred of the Coins and may even have been persuaded to aid in the takeover, though that is more rumour than fact. What is certain is that her new masters seem a much less restrictive bunch, allowing Ûrizâir free reign of the city and lands about when she had been mostly confined to the Fleet-fast in the past. As such, she can now be found striding through the both the upper and lower districts, much to the chagrin of the Captains whom are now subject to her judgement over their lacking care towards her ships.
| Friends | |
|---|---|
| Relatives | Father: Danaeros Mother: Ephedril Brother: DarthoronBaby Brother: Elioron |
| Rivals/Enemies |
| Loves | She loves the sea, swimming in it and sailing upon it. She loves her work in the mending and maintaining of ships and she loves to create diagram drawings of the creatures of the sea and portraits of those few people she meets and befriends. |
|---|---|
| Hates | The human adulation of elven kind, the expected divinity of her life, the elven sense of racial superiority, her mother, fools and frivolous people. |
| Motivation | As far as anyone can tell, Ûrizâir acts only to ensure her continuing freedom and to safeguard a life upon the sea but away from typical elven haunts and places of safety. Other than this, her motivations are mysterious. |
| Quotes | "We are most familiar with our estrangement, it is our home ground." |
