Vattaan Harpell was not flighty. He wasn’t capricious, eccentric, peculiar, absent-minded, silly, or ridiculous on any level. He wasn’t even a wizard.
In a family of widely acknowledged screwballs, he often felt out of place within his family. He often felt his family thought of him as plain, and perhaps a bit simple. But not his uncle Malchor. Vattaan jumped at the chance to fulfill his apprenticeship at his Tower of Twilight as a man-at-arms and house guard. Malchor appreciated the power and strength of men, and respected especially men who applied that strength and power in the defense of others. It was perhaps Malchor’s recollections of Waterdeep that inspired Vattaan to start dreaming of the City of Splendors. Vattaan surprised himself at how quickly he made his decision to leave, surprised himself still more when he rode through his hometown of Longsaddle late at night without stopping to say so much as hello to family and neighbors. His noble beginnings allowed him to carry the best of equipment. His scale mail armor bore his family crest, and its matching shield completed a set of masterwork quality defenses. His bastard sword, also expertly crafted, was the perfect blade for scattering enemies before him, wading into conflict astride a magnificent warhorse. He didn’t think twice when he “stole” an extra horse from his uncle’s stable the morning he left.
Riding through the north towers into Waterdeep was the most exhilarating excitement he had ever felt. It truly was a jewell to behold from the road. He recognized the Thunderstaff banners in the parapets as a fellow wizarding family by tradition, and knew beyond doubt that his fate truly did reside here in this magnificent city. His eyes and ears were overwhelmed, but he drank in every detail, He had the excitement of youth and the energy of years of pent up boredom. As he explored the city he was drawn to a magnificent church. Music erupted from it, as did a voice, strong and confident. The voice was speaking of the need for noble sons to defend the church and its peoples. The congregation was at the same time reverent and exuberant. A woman, striking and stern stood up to answer the call for defenders, and the cleric rejoiced in her decision. She was the only one to speak that morning from the congregation, but her actions inspired Vattaan. He longed to protect and serve something beyond his simple existence. Mayhap, this place, and this woman.
Vattaan Harpell was bold. He was confident, skilled, practiced, instinctive, decisive and noble. He was a fighter.