A tartan-clad warrior treks the paths through the green grass and stone spires of the highlands.
His boots sink into the rain-soaked earth under a cold gray sky. From the high places, he gazes down upon a misty valley.
A dark, deep lake lies beneath, a stone keep standing guard over its still waters.
Wind rustles around him, and a hawk cries out as it soars over the countryside.
He rests his hand upon a nearby standing stone, crossed with spirals carved in a time before remembrance, mystical symbols, ancient and enigmatic.
This is his land, beautiful and wild. A land of legend, of bravery, and of freedom.