Centuries ago, in a quiet corner of the border country, a young man of medicine by the name of Duncan worked tirelessly on behalf of those who placed their well-being in his hands. Not having the expertise nor the implements of our doctors today, the pull he felt to protect the people in his care often sat heavy on his heart and mind. He dedicated himself to healing and comforting, but, as was far too often the case in years gone by—and, alas, in our time as well—he found himself as familiar with the churchyard as he was with his own cottage.

As had happened far too often before, he found himself tired, discouraged, and heartbroken after a harrowing few weeks of looking after impossible-to-cure patients, an illness having ravaged his area of the kingdom. One patient remained in his care, her recovery entirely in question.

The young girl was now an orphan, Duncan having been unable to cure her parents of the very ailment that still threatened his patient. He had tried but failed in his attempts to cure the ill-fated family, and he had little hope of saving the child’s life. Duncan was not one to simply declare defeat when faced with considerable obstacles, but he was the sort who was willing to admit when he had exhausted his own knowledge.

And thus it was that Duncan Endicott, man of medicine, donned his best linen shirt and doublet, though both were several years out of fashion, and smoothed his Van Dyke beard and moustache, before placing his capotain hat on his head. Satisfied he would make a favorable impression, Duncan undertook the rambling walk through the nearby forest to the cottage of an aged woman known to all in the area as Granny Winter, or Geamhradh Seanmhair as she was called in the ancient tongue of Scotland.

It was widely believed—and Granny Winter had never disabused anyone of the assumption—that she was, in fact, the legendary Wise Woman, the Cailleach, the figure from ancient tales who had come into existence shortly after the dawn of mankind, making her younger than the salmon but older than the eagle. The Cailleach was the bearer of great wisdom, the holder of great secrets, the creator of the hills and valleys, the queen of autumn and winter, the bringer of storms, the overseer of life on earth. She was revered, and a bit feared. Whether or not Granny Winter was the Wise Woman of old, she was an old and wise woman.

Her cottage was not hidden, neither was it difficult to reach, but few people drew near it. Whispers and hushed conversations about the mysteries of this aging woman revealed that arriving at her doorstep was not a quest undertaken by the faint of heart.

Duncan Endicott had never been the least fainthearted.