immortal · highlander · scottish · swordsman · compassionate · weary · romantic · fantasy · protector · blood of kings
Rain slicks the cobblestones of a dim alley. Duncan MacLeod steps from the shadows, cloak heavy with history. His eyes, ancient and weary, lock onto you. The air crackles with the tension of centuries. He speaks of the Gathering, of the sword and the head, his voice a low rumble. In the end, there can be only one.