Good day fair maidens. It has been some time since my last letter. I have been thinking of you all this time, fear not. Every day I wrote this letter in my head to you, my dearest wives, while I was locked away in the wizard Fnar'jnir's dungeon. Every day I looked into the eyes of my evil captor and gazed upon my own reflection, dreaming of being with you(se). The only thing that kept me going was seeing that sight day after day, that hairy chest and manly jaw, the jaw of Scott Bakula.
I write to you now though with those wretched days behind me, free at last or at least free from the cellars of discontent. While I remain stranded on this northern island, I hold hope that one day I shall find my escape and see you (all) once again.
I am on a trek to the furthest reaches of the island, to a place known as Gle'nary, where I seek a man named i'An Og. It is said by the inhabitants of the western caves that he holds many secrets and I hope to find him well and in good spirits.
I am short on parchment so for now, wish me well.
S.
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