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Blessed Be, my friend!

I do have trouble with my sight. Thy beard and hat with pirate garb be a thing most merry, methinks. Laughter doth bubble unto the surface as doth sulfur gas within a spring.

Some begot as pirates; thee, I bethink me not, mayhap only in thy phantasms.

My friend, mine eyes see that thine hands be tied and thou doth languish afettered by thine oath. So it be thy lot to endure – yea suffer – suffer ‘twould seem unto me for the cause of goodness that do thee ill!

All be well with thee as usual, friend wizard; at least unto mine eyes.

Methinks if thou wert to change said flautist into a bird – a blue bird – then it wold flee unto Oz and be heard nor more and thine ears be not vexed. How say ye upon this?

Good Wizard,

You challenge even the most astute of foes to their own game. Impress'ed I am of this skill. T'is what I have been doing for many years. Always look ahead, my olde friend. I bid you are well and in good spirits. Pray it stays such always. Be well..

Invictus Maneo

Thou placest thy pate before the headman’s axe, bethink me, with thine eyes opened wide! "Whether wilt thou me go, oh mortal, for I am at thy service!", so mine ears hear thy tongue.

So hie thee hither goodly folk; harken ye all; a wizard be at thy dispose and can that be any better? Hast thou a foe that thou wouldest be a toad; a lady bethrawled with thy charms; a lord whose position thou seekest? The door beopened unto thee and thy wishes methinks.

And so my friend wizard, I have gone where I wilt thee so follow. All can be done full in New York City as thou hast requested. Thy toils will increase, methinks.

Goodness - New York City - hum, upon this writ must I ponder as the tales of that town be legion indeed and befloated across the aether to abide in Flemish-wonders within our very manors!

Certes, thine adventure be a thing of note and Lady Luck doth smile upon thy balding pate. Oh, now that bethink me the matter, I have yet to see thee sans hat!

No matter; 'tis my pleasure to read thy writ this (here) morn.

Faire be the balm that sootheth the vexed soul – yea even that of grumpy mages! May thy riot bringeth thee much joy and merriment, m’ friend! ‘Ware ye of the faire ones as they will led thee astray and ye may wish to go! Merlin, himself did fall over that same rock!

Mope away goodly, Mage if it be thy pleasure; to be sure lists be the bane unto all that make them but to spend one’s day in a mope? How now, goodly Sir? Surely thou canest find something better to so occupy thy time?

Thou soundest like a child bereft of its sweet and doth refuse to play nicely. Come, Come, Sir Mage. Arise, I say stride ye forward and confront thy challenge and seek ye not the cave unto thy hiding to grumble at thy pleasure.