Welcome to Wenceslas Arrowleaf's Web Haven! I am Marcus Majarra, bard and artist extraordinaire, as well as companion-at-arms of this unsung elven hero named Wencelas Arrowleaf. I will be your guide to understanding this legend of Cormanthor. Now sit back and relax and enjoy the show. By the way, if your name happens to be Benoit Groulx, you should be enjoying this more than anyone else.
Wenceslas is one of the best Archers that ever lived in the Elven Court. He was born there in 1277 D.R., Year of the Beholder. His past is somewhat clouded, but some rumors insinuate that he may be the youngest son of the Nimesin House, whom's most reknown member is Kymil Nimesin, the traitor and assassin of King Zaor Moonflower of the Green Isle, also known as Evermeet. The young Quessir gave up the dark side of his family and background to dedicate himself completely to his two most cherished possessions: first, Cormanthor, the mighty forest; second, his wife, Nirial, a talented bard.
One day, King Zaor's widow, Amlaruil Moonflower, Queen of the Elves, suggested that her people left Faerūn, the mainland, to join her on the paradise that is Evermeet. To abandon the forest would be an act of treason for the souls that were the Forest, or so Wenceslas said. Thus, he and thrity of his elves decided to stay in the woods, so that they can ensure the safety of the Forest. They would protect It from the barbaric acts of humankind, who coveted the woods and waited for the elves' departure to make It their own. The predators stalked their prey without respect for life, the one thing Tel'Quessir valued most.
The most astounding manifestation of such a desecration took place some years ago (NOTE from Marcus: remember that a short time for an elf could mean a lifetime for a human like me! *wink, wink*) when a group of lumberjacks from Hillsfar penetrated the haven of Cormanthor, and started razing the Trees, with no concern for the wildlife that resided there. During their massacre (NOTE from Marcus [they'll be plenty of these, I assure you]: remembered that Trees are considered as important as elves, in Wen's own words), they came upon Wenceslas' band, whom's leader gave them an ultimatum. Either they left the Forest, or they faced the elves' wrath. Underestimating their assailants, the Hillsfarites neglected the first option, and a battle erupted. Though the Tel'Quessir won the fight, Nirial fell to the hands of one of those brutes. Wenceslas' life was different from that moment on, changed, for the worse...
You can figure out the rest. Nirial died in Wen's hands, yaddy, yaddy, yadda... Kill humans... Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera! (NOTE from Marcus: I should point out that what was just said should be in parentheses, as is this comment, so Wen, excuse me for my awful initiative...) But seriously, Nirial's depart for Arvandor sent Wenceslas into utter hopelessness and left him alone to raise their daughter, Jhenna. What happened in the next years of his life is still a mystery to myself, but some clues that were given to me by a very reliable source (a.k.a. Benoīt) suppose that he may have commited acts as horrible as his brother's...
But enough about him! I wanna talk about myself! I met Wenceslas (NOTE from Marcus: Okay, okay, so it's back to Wen. I'd like to point out that this is HIS haven) when some Shadowthieves from Waterdeep wanted my ass, as well as the rest of my corpse-to-be, and I had to assist some lumberjacks from the City of Splendors in a wood-cutting expedition to the Elven Woods. Guess what? We had the same problems the Hillsfarites had! We got captured (NOTE from Marcus: to live, or not to live, that isn't the question, but hey, I rather surrender than to be shot in the face!), and a trial followed the event (it wasn't much of a fair trial, hey did I say that out loud!?) and we were all found guilty, until a friend of mine named Myria (who was really a drow in disguise, a good drow nontheless) asked what it took for us to prove our innocence. It figures we had to hunt down some priests of Malar, the God of the Hunt and Blood (NOTE, oh and you know the rest: Isn't it ironic that we - the good guys - had to hunt the hunters for the good of all?). We got those bastards and we were set free. The lumberjacks went back to Waterdeep and we lived happily ever after... WRONG! Wenceslas wanted to travel to the major cities of the Realms to send a message about wood-cuttin' in his woods, and since he needed a guide to accompany him in human cities, turns out I found something useful (and very deadly!) to do. So we walked, and walked, and walked til I almost got killed for the 33rd time (I'm not sure about this number, but hey, who's counting!?), and we came upon a war that Lolth had personally started against us (Though I cannot imagine why... = ) ) and we started gathering troops for the battle that is to come. Phew! That's exhausting! But seriously, we are now the 1st of Tarsakh, and I am about to embark on a journey for Tilverton, to seek some more allies for the war against the Drow of Underdark, the now-ruled-by-the-mean-regent-whose-name-isn't-Prince-John Cormyr, and Sembia, while Wencelas is maybe in action at this time. May the Gods allow me to continue writing these chronicles (that means I have to survive, damnit! Yes, DM, I MUST survive!!!!!!!). Wenceslas, may the Gods protect you as well.
I won't bother you with his stats and equipment yet, but I will salute you all, you curious onlookers, you lurkers!!!! Just below is an image of what Wencelas would be if here were in a Shining Force game:
