1620: The Highlands of Scotland
"Fortis et Fidus, my fellow clansmen!" Corinth MacLachlan said, as he sat
proud a top his horse as his clan waited. Over the horizon, he saw the
MacLeod clan approaching. "Life or Death!"
Battle cries shot through the air as the two clans rushed towards each
other. With weapons held high meeting blow for blow, the MacLachlans and
the MacLeods who once fought side by side, were now fighting over a small
piece of land.
Corinth, the MacLachlan Chieftain, watched proudly as his clan over took
the MacLeods. He had fought beside many of them before in battle, and knew
defeat was something that didn't come easy for them. Now, his clan was
holding their own, especially his son, Jamie. The man may not have been
Corinth's own blood, but none would have known if they judged by the
MacLachlan ferocity with which he fought.
Even though he was small for his age of 26, Jamie was one of the clans best
warriors, often coming out of a battle unscratched. He'd fought against the
best and won against the best, and one day, he would take his fathers place
and lead the best. For now, he was busy running through one of the best the
MacLeods had to offer, another son of a Chieftain, not too much older than
"Fortis et Fidus, Jamie!" Corinth called out.
"Aye!" he responded, not missing a beat.
It was the last thing Corinth heard his son say, as a MacLeod came up from
behind and stuck his sgain dubh into his shoulder blade. Jamie heard his
father moan and turned around in time to see his father fall. It was all
his opponent needed. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod took advantage of
Jamie's distraction and sliced his chest.