Cornelius Harpell<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/347/8/1/crowe_longinus_by_butterfrog-d3kntzn.jpg)</div></div>(pic is the best i could find)<br/>Cornelius was born, as most Harpells are, in the very small town of Longsaddle. His mother, a practiced alchemist, had been won over by a local man at a young age. Their romance however was short lived when a barn fire claimed his life. His mother couldn’t comprehend the tragedy at first and it was weeks before she realized that the pains and sickness were not side effects of grief but that of pregnancy. Raised within the compound he was taken in by many of the men of the family and shown what it was to be a man, a mage and most of all a Harpell. In a family with such rich history and many would say infamy he stood out not at all. Raised within the magical ancestral home of Ivy Mansion he went about as most children would and grew up with the constant taste of magic in the air. As many children of the family he was taught the basics of magic and it was soon discovered that he too had more than just a basic affinity toward it. His studies covered the gambit but he leaned most toward the arcane arts and history. His uncles Harkle and Malchor being the most influential. Harkle taught him the love of magic how it could be bent and manipulated while Malchor focused on the techniques and control of magic. He couldn’t have asked for better teachers and his studies advanced in leaps and bounds.<br/><br/>All of this did little to crush a wanderlust that had building within him. He constantly begged to travel with family members and the like, hoping for an adventure like he read about in the family histories. Finally after just turning fifteen he got his chance. A group of adventurers came to the estate seeking his families aid in defending a place called Mithral Hall. Many of the families top practitioners were assembled and with no small amount of begging they agreed to let Cornelius come along as a squire of sorts. What he witnessed at the horrible place still haunts his dreams. Magics and beast that couldn’t be imagined in most peoples worst nightmares were set loose within the large yet confined cavern. From his safe area Cornelius learned what it was to be a Harpell that day as he watched his uncles advance in the face of what was certain doom to uphold the promises and friendships they had made. In the end so few were left but thankfully most survived.<br/><br/>From that day he made himself a vow to take his studies to a new level. Seeing how the leaders of the invading force had manipulated an entire battlefield he focused himself on eliminating single individuals or small groups. More and more his spells focused on weakening others and burning down their leaders. This turn did not go unnoticed and was frowned upon for one so young to think so. Two years latter an uncontrolled summoning broke loose in the rear gardens and Cornelius took action. A slavering beast was accidentally set loose and with a few well placed shots Cornelius stood over the smoking corpse. There was no more arguing the point. He came from a long line of great mages and as such he would set out to find his own path to greatness.<br/><br/>Traveling south he could think of no better place to start then the city of Waterdeep. Known for its intrigue and wild stories he set forth. Upon reaching the city he took up a side job as a scribe to pay the bills but kept a steady eye on the posting for skilled mages needed. His employer, a Mr. Winterscale, was a good man and let Cornelius take his leave to chase his dreams. Working everything from vermin cleansing to kidnapped noble he never turned down a chance to make himself known, and the money was always welcomed. He was use to a life of luxury and it was hard to maintain on a scribes pay.<br/><br/>Now in his twenty fifth year he stands a striking figure. His short dark brown hair lays in loose curls around the rakish looks of a man of knowledge focused with power. His bright green eyes are welcoming and his smile can start a band to play a jaunty tune. He loves to dance and drink but he isn’t good at either. He would rather buy a stranger a drink than bully one out the door and rarely looks to start a conflict until a line has been crossed. Those who don’t know better might assume he is a bard at least until he starts to sing along with the song.<br/>