The Legacy of the Glen
Deep in the Scottish Highlands, three clans share the Glen of Many Legends. None of them do so gladly. Each clan believes they
have sole claim to the fair and fertile vale. Their possessiveness is understandable, because the glen truly is a place like
no other. Bards throughout the land will confirm that the Glen of Many Legends is just that: an enchanted place older than
time and steeped with more tales and myth than most men can recall.
Kissed by sea and wind, the vale is long and narrow, its shores wild and serrated. Deeply wooded hills edge the glen’s heart,
while softly blowing mists cloak the lofty peaks that crowd together at its end. Oddly shaped stones dot the lush grass, but
the strangeness of the ancient rocks is countered by the heather and whin that bloom so profusely from every patch of black,
peaty earth.
No one would deny the glen’s beauty.
Yet to some, the Glen of Many Legends is a place of ill fame to be avoided at all costs, especially by the dark of the moon. Strange things have been known to happen there, and wise men tread cautiously when they must pass that way.
But the MacDonalds, Camerons, and Mackintoshes who dwell there appreciate the glen’s virtues above frightening tales that
may or may not have credence. Good Highlanders all, the clans know that any storyteller of skill is adept at embroidering
his yarns.
Highlanders are also a proud and stubborn people. And they’re known for their fierce attachment to the land. These traits
blaze hotly in the veins of the three clans of the Glen of Many Legends. Over time, their endless struggles to vanquish each
other have drenched the glen with blood and sorrow.
Peace in the glen is fragile and rare.
Most times it doesn’t exist at all. Yet somehow the clans tolerate each other, however grudgingly.
Now the precarious balance of order is about to be thrown into dispute by the death of a single woman.
A MacDonald by birth, and hereditary heiress to the MacDonalds of the Glen of Many Legends, she was a twice-widowed woman
who chose to live out her days in the serenity and solitude of a nunnery.
Sadly, she neglected to set down her last wishes in a will. This oversight would not be so dire if not for the disturbing
truths that her first husband had been a Cameron and her second, a Mackintosh.
On her passing, each clan lays claim to the dead woman.
Or, it can be more aptly said, they insist on being her rightful heirs.
Soon land-greed and coveting will once again turn the glen’s sweet grass into a sea of running red and many good men will lose their lives. But even when the last clansman sinks
to his knees, his sword sullied and the end near, the real battle is only just beginning.
When it is done, the Glen of Many Legends will be forever changed.
As will the hearts of those who dwell there.