[Attalus]

Oh, you mean V for Veldren. He would be seventeen at this time, just about your age, boyo! Here we go:

Veldren continued to dance with the blonde girl. She looked at him with eyes glowing with approval. He was one of the most eligible batchelors in the city, even the whole of the Sword Coast, and would have been, even if he had not been so handsome. Rich and with a famous (and powerful) father, every girl that she knew schemed to get him for a suitor, but, so far, he had favored her. She admired his springy step, well-knit form, and the face that he had inherited from his Drow mother: heart-shaped, with snapping black eyes and a sensuous mouth, though his skin was little darker than a Calimnishite lad that she knew. His curly black hair was from his father.
Finally, to her disappointment, the dancing lesson was over. "Well-danced, Veldren," Delia cried. "will I see you at the Carmallens' party tonight? I know that you were invited, for I saw the list."
"Alas, no," the lad replied, with every expression of regret. "I have a previous engagement, a hunt interrupted by this class," he looked her sweet form up and down, "though, thanks to you, delightfully so." He bowed, grabbed his hat and went out gracefully through the door.
Mavis Cutwater, Delia's best friend, came rushing over to her as soon as he left. "Well?" she asked brightly, "Is Love's Dream coming tonight? I have a new dress that I would love for him to see." Mavis' figure tended tp the voluptious, and she was not known for hiding that aspect of herself.
Delia gave her a rather sour smile. "No, drat it," she rejoined, "he's away hunting, again. I swear, that boy never thinks of anything but his spear and bow."
"I know that I would like to be the victim of that spear," Mavis muttered, but subsided when Delia gave her a hard look.

Veldren was digging in his closet, looking for some heavier boots when his father stepped in. "Veldren, what are you doing?" he asked suspiciously. Seeing his bow and arrows on the rumpled bed, he made the obvious deduction. "Off hunting again? So soon? Well, I don't see the harm in it, as long as you are home for dinner. Your Aunt Imoen is coming, and I know that she would want to see you."
Veldren directed pleading eyes at his father. "Please, Dad," he asked piteously, "won't Auntie Im be here another time? If I find that Winter Wolf's trail, it could be a while to run him to earth."
Attalus felt his paladin's sense of duty wrestle with his affection for his son. Paternal affection won out. "Oh, all right, but there had better be a new wolf coat for your mother out of it, or next time you won't get so good an answer." Veldren jumped up and hugged his father in thanks, and, boots, bow and spear in hand, he raced out before he could change his mind. Not that he ever did.