![Blind Highlander Vs. The Loner - Story/Description - [For Honor] @omagosh](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/SDkm61xrwsk/maxresdefault.jpg)
Uploaded June 2018 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Rome sends out scouts looking for the old man, but it seems he has many Samurai after him as well. Not only does the Orochi appear everywhere he looks now, he recently quelled one Shinobi ambush after another - they seemed to appear from everywhere, out of shadows, producing clouds of dust and smoke.
And yet another Samurai was hot on his trail, a loner with eyes hidden by the brim of his hat, and a blade in each of his hands. This lone Samurai knew the art of feinting an attack. So fierce was his style of swordplay that even if the old man’s eyes had been better, it would have made little difference.
However, so impressed by the other’s skill, both the old man and the Aramusha refused to execute each other the first time they fought. Each was wounded enough that they agreed to part ways for a time, and heal up, before meeting once more to fight to the death.
When they met the second time the Aramusha gave the old man a very delicious hot green drink beneath a cherry blossom tree. “Matcha” he said.
It was the first word the Aramusha had spoken in years. Then the Aramusha took a stick and drew a large circle in the ground, made an "X" in the middle of the circle and pointed to the old man. Then, all around the circle he made symbols, a rough temple that marked Samurai, a bird that marked Vikings, a centurion helm marking Romans and a castle for Knights (he was a good artist with a stick and dirt!) and a new symbol the old man didn't recognize, and he repeated these symbols all around the circle. Then he slowly drew arrows from all of them pointing towards the "X" in the middle.
The message was clear: The Aramusha let the old man know that everywhere he went, every faction, even a new, unknown one, now sent warriors after the aged Highlander.
The old man nodded and patted the Aramusha on the shoulder gently. In a way, this made sense: only another lone warrior could relate to someone who’d been wandering on his own for as long as the old man had been trying to get home.
With that, he drank the last of his good green tea, which gave him a distinct sense of life, and he stood up with his Claymore in hand. The Aramusha stood up as well and nodded. It was understood between both men that regardless of their shared understanding, orders are orders.
The old man wondered if all Samurai were really sent to kill him. He remembered the greatest Kensei, the Kensei who taught him that life is both a celebration of being alive as well as a lament for the fallen. Would he ever cross paths with that Kensei again?
I must keep to myself, thought the old man.
After all, Vikings swore the old man would join them one day in Valhalla, and yet it was a word that was far from the old man’s ancient Celtic tongue, and so many Vikings had tried to take his life... None of it made sense.
My wife is my faction, the old man thought.
"Ready yourself," he said to the Aramusha, who did not understand the old man's language but who, nevertheless, was already digging his foot into the ground for better traction.
-
***
This channel has gameplay but it seeks to write short stories and poetry in its descriptions that go beyond fan-fiction. These descriptions are not based on any characters in For Honor. Feel free to subscribe and share these descriptions with people who may not play For Honor (or video-games) if you like.
As always: No being mean towards anyone in these videos or in the comments on this channel. Keep it clean, and be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
***
Rome sends out scouts looking for the old man, but it seems he has many Samurai after him as well. Not only does the Orochi appear everywhere he looks now, he recently quelled one Shinobi ambush after another - they seemed to appear from everywhere, out of shadows, producing clouds of dust and smoke.
And yet another Samurai was hot on his trail, a loner with eyes hidden by the brim of his hat, and a blade in each of his hands. This lone Samurai knew the art of feinting an attack. So fierce was his style of swordplay that even if the old man’s eyes had been better, it would have made little difference.
However, so impressed by the other’s skill, both the old man and the Aramusha refused to execute each other the first time they fought. Each was wounded enough that they agreed to part ways for a time, and heal up, before meeting once more to fight to the death.
When they met the second time the Aramusha gave the old man a very delicious hot green drink beneath a cherry blossom tree. “Matcha” he said.
It was the first word the Aramusha had spoken in years. Then the Aramusha took a stick and drew a large circle in the ground, made an "X" in the middle of the circle and pointed to the old man. Then, all around the circle he made symbols, a rough temple that marked Samurai, a bird that marked Vikings, a centurion helm marking Romans and a castle for Knights (he was a good artist with a stick and dirt!) and a new symbol the old man didn't recognize, and he repeated these symbols all around the circle. Then he slowly drew arrows from all of them pointing towards the "X" in the middle.
The message was clear: The Aramusha let the old man know that everywhere he went, every faction, even a new, unknown one, now sent warriors after the aged Highlander.
The old man nodded and patted the Aramusha on the shoulder gently. In a way, this made sense: only another lone warrior could relate to someone who’d been wandering on his own for as long as the old man had been trying to get home.
With that, he drank the last of his good green tea, which gave him a distinct sense of life, and he stood up with his Claymore in hand. The Aramusha stood up as well and nodded. It was understood between both men that regardless of their shared understanding, orders are orders.
The old man wondered if all Samurai were really sent to kill him. He remembered the greatest Kensei, the Kensei who taught him that life is both a celebration of being alive as well as a lament for the fallen. Would he ever cross paths with that Kensei again?
I must keep to myself, thought the old man.
After all, Vikings swore the old man would join them one day in Valhalla, and yet it was a word that was far from the old man’s ancient Celtic tongue, and so many Vikings had tried to take his life... None of it made sense.
My wife is my faction, the old man thought.
"Ready yourself," he said to the Aramusha, who did not understand the old man's language but who, nevertheless, was already digging his foot into the ground for better traction.
-
***
This channel has gameplay but it seeks to write short stories and poetry in its descriptions that go beyond fan-fiction. These descriptions are not based on any characters in For Honor. Feel free to subscribe and share these descriptions with people who may not play For Honor (or video-games) if you like.
As always: No being mean towards anyone in these videos or in the comments on this channel. Keep it clean, and be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
***
![Blind Highlander Vs. The Loner - Story/Description - [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/SDkm61xrwsk/mqdefault.jpg "Blind Highlander Vs. The Loner - Story/Description - [For Honor]
Rome sends out scouts looking for the old man, but it seems he has many Samurai after him as well. Not only does the Orochi appear everywhere he looks now, he recently quelled one Shinobi ambush after another - they seemed to appear from everywhere, out of shadows, producing clouds of dust and smoke.
And yet another Samurai was hot on his trail, a loner with eyes hidden by the brim of his hat, and a blade in each of his hands. This lone Samurai knew the art of feinting an attack. So fierce was his style of swordplay that even if the old man’s eyes had been better, it would have made little difference.
However, so impressed by the other’s skill, both the old man and the Aramusha refused to execute each other the first time they fought. Each was wounded enough that they agreed to part ways for a time, and heal up, before meeting once more to fight to the death.
When they met the second time the Aramusha gave the old man a very delicious hot green drink beneath a cherry blossom tree. “Matcha” he said.
It was the first word the Aramusha had spoken in years. Then the Aramusha took a stick and drew a large circle in the ground, made an X in the middle of the circle and pointed to the old man. Then, all around the circle he made symbols, a rough temple that marked Samurai, a bird that marked Vikings, a centurion helm marking Romans and a castle for Knights (he was a good artist with a stick and dirt!) and a new symbol the old man didnt recognize, and he repeated these symbols all around the circle. Then he slowly drew arrows from all of them pointing towards the X in the middle.
The message was clear: The Aramusha let the old man know that everywhere he went, every faction, even a new, unknown one, now sent warriors after the aged Highlander.
The old man nodded and patted the Aramusha on the shoulder gently. In a way, this made sense: only another lone warrior could relate to someone who’d been wandering on his own for as long as the old man had been trying to get home.
With that, he drank the last of his good green tea, which gave him a distinct sense of life, and he stood up with his Claymore in hand. The Aramusha stood up as well and nodded. It was understood between both men that regardless of their shared understanding, orders are orders.
The old man wondered if all Samurai were really sent to kill him. He remembered the greatest Kensei, the Kensei who taught him that life is both a celebration of being alive as well as a lament for the fallen. Would he ever cross paths with that Kensei again?
I must keep to myself, thought the old man.
After all, Vikings swore the old man would join them one day in Valhalla, and yet it was a word that was far from the old man’s ancient Celtic tongue, and so many Vikings had tried to take his life... None of it made sense.
My wife is my faction, the old man thought.
Ready yourself, he said to the Aramusha, who did not understand the old mans language but who, nevertheless, was already digging his foot into the ground for better traction.
-
***
This channel has gameplay but it seeks to write short stories and poetry in its descriptions that go beyond fan-fiction. These descriptions are not based on any characters in For Honor. Feel free to subscribe and share these descriptions with people who may not play For Honor (or video-games) if you like.
As always: No being mean towards anyone in these videos or in the comments on this channel. Keep it clean, and be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
***")
![When Feelin Salty, Remember This [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/TaPbtiPKt9s/mqdefault.jpg "When Feelin Salty, Remember This [For Honor]
If only these kinds of moments went as viral as salty For Honor videos. For all you newer players (and some older ones too), dont let anything get to you. Being salty has but two outcomes: being upset and causing others to be upset. Not being salty has limitless possibilities.
Or as the song in this video says,
Bubblegum kinda keeps my heart from gettin heavy and cryin
If youd like to know what is next in the old man’s blind epic journey, like, subscribe and hit the notification button. Please share this with others if you think they might really enjoy it. Leave your thoughts in the comments about the video or the blind journey in general. As always please keep it clean and be kind, not just here on this channel and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
Song: Free Design, Bubbles")
![The Old Mans Reads [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/WvNOldKePaM/mqdefault.jpg "The Old Mans Reads [For Honor]
Knowing he must anticipate the moves of all these new Kenseis, Conqs - all these new Highlanders! - the Old Man fights through his bad knee, hoping to survive, so he may return home, and have a very good cup of tea with Mrs. Highlander.
the opening song is Voltage Regulator from Freshly Wrapped Candies off their album I Like You")
![The Old Mans Dance for New Seasons [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/XG0nVJsDS8k/mqdefault.jpg "The Old Mans Dance for New Seasons [For Honor]
WISE IF SHE TALKS TO BIRDS - When the old man was just a child, sometimes his father rode off as the snow began floating down and he didnt return until well after the leaves looked like sunsets, then rust.
Therefore he learned a great deal from his mother: secrets for handling different seasons, the lyrics to all village songs, how to find and mix spices - and that once you knew how to fight, kindness must also flow out of you and into the world.
She also had a sense of humor. If ever he was still asleep after the dawn, he would hear her laughing as she poured a cup of fresh river water on his head.
His mother taught him a love of languages. Much of life, she told him once, is a matter of tone. There are tones in bells and in the wind and in your voice. Choose words with care, and speak in a sound tone.
This how you speak with respect, his mother said. This is how you speak to one who is angry. This is how you speak to spare those who wish to fight over trifles. Also, learn the languages of all people you meet. And, she said, learn to speak the language of trees, of paths on the ground, listen to rivers, and always speak to animals. You are learning how to speak to horses already.
But, one day, you will know your wife is wise if she talks to birds.
The old man also remembered an occasion before he could even speak. Perhaps it was his earliest memory of all. A new season had begun and outside villagers played drums and blew sounds out of something he later learned was made of the bladder of sheep, dogs and cows – all together these sounds were like thunder hidden underneath the high war-cry of an ancient mythical bird.
Right then his mother was outside at dusk and her entire body moved with the drums that emerged out of the sounds from thunder in the sky above.
It was as if those sounds, the start of rain, the silence of lightning, the hallowed cry of first thunder, had called her. The music was inside her. She was not just listening but her body was one with the change from day to night, and the change of season.
She motioned for her son to join her and said, This is dancing, and all of life is a dance. And in his life he often experienced a tremendous energy with the change in season, even if the weather – as it sometimes did – took a turn for the worse.
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By all means share the descriptions with people who may not play For Honor (or video-games) if you like, and hit the notification bell if you’d like to know what comes next!
As always: No being mean towards anyone in these videos or in the comments on this channel. Keep it clean, and be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
Songs:
Ratgrave - Ubi Hubi
Clanadonia Live - Tu-Bardh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnSNfxjrwck
Ratgrave - Icarus")
![The Vision (Read Description) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YDqYYSHfpB4/mqdefault.jpg "The Vision (Read Description) [For Honor]
Having survived his time as a gladiator, the old man was set free and continued his journey home. Long ago he’d left the town where he grew up to start a new life with Mrs. Highlander some distance away, where there was a nearby river, land for sheep and cattle, and plenty of Oak trees. But there were rumors (from Celts he encountered on the road) that Romans were closing in on his childhood hometown. He knew Mrs. Highlander was farther north and it would take them longer to reach her, but he began to have problems sleeping.
By day a crow followed him and even said to him, “If you kill one Roman, he will come back as ten, and if you kill those ten, they will become one hundred.” He walked for weeks eating what little he could but resting very poorly, for he began to have terrible dreams.
“Crows are the wisest of all flying animals,” Mrs. Highlander once told the old man. “But they can carry messages from enemies as well as friends. They are not unlike people in that way.”
***
This channel has gameplay but it seeks to write short stories and poetry in its descriptions that go beyond fan-fiction. These descriptions are not based on any characters in For Honor. Feel free to subscribe and share these descriptions with people who may not play For Honor (or video-games) if you like.
As always: No being mean towards anyone in these videos or in the comments on this channel. Keep it clean, and be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
***
Song:
James Blake, “I never learnt to share”")
![Peacekeeper - Story in Description [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YHwhhReJx_w/mqdefault.jpg "Peacekeeper - Story in Description [For Honor]
Kept
She was born in secret, the illegitimate daughter of a princess and a military commander. Her mother gave birth to her in the bitter cold of Winter. There was ice and snow on the ground. Only a few days old, she was smuggled out of the city in the middle of the night by servants, never to see her own mother again.
She was brought to her father’s family in a poor village where she was cared for by her elderly aunt. At an early age, she showed skill and high intelligence in tracking and foraging, and her father admired her unique abilities. He secretly trained her in combat and the military arts, as he had been trained when he was young. She excelled at such a rapid pace that, by the time she turned 15-years-old, she could outmatch most men, including her father, by the sheer quickness of her sword and dagger.
Her innate wisdom for military tactics and strategy made her the perfect candidate for delivering messages on horseback, often traveling alone across mountains, valleys, deserts and rivers. Before she reached the age of 20, a nearby, high-ranking general had heard of her accomplishments and asked her father for permission to have her trained in the art of assassination.
Eventually, she became known as the Peace-Keeper for her bravery, honor, and willingness to sacrifice everything for the greater good. To this day no one knows her real name.
One day, she was far from home, on her way back from a mission, when she happened upon a road where a small army was marching, towing along slaves behind them. At the back of the procession, a few luckier captives were packed into barred cages on wheels. They were likely in those cages, rather than marching to death, for ransoming, or a worse fate.
The Peace-Keeper hid nearby and saw an older woman in one such cage, and suddenly the woman made eye-contact with her from afar.
The Peace-Keeper, who considered herself an expert in stealth, moved behind a pine and watched the older woman cup her hands and blow into them, sounding like an owl. An owl soon emerged from the woods and swooped down onto the cage. The woman pushed a small rolled-up parchment into the owl’s talons and whispered a word.
Soon, the owl flew to the Peace-Keeper and put the note in her hand. The message was written in a language she was not familiar with, but the words were written in very tiny letters on both sides of the paled leather, and it was clear from the rusty scrawl that the ink used was nothing less than the woman’s blood, her fingernails her nib.
The Peace-Keeper made a note of the armys attire and weaponry, and dispatched that information to headquarters, but she brought the parchment directly to the monks and antiquarians who understood language.
The message was from the wife of an old Highlander, known across the lands for his kindness and skill with a Claymore, but no one knew his whereabouts for quite some time. The Peace-Keeper vowed to search for the old man in white rags, and deliver the message to him. It would be hard task to find this old man from the faraway islands of rivers and mighty oaks, because it is hard to follow one who aches day and night, almost moving without rest.
If youre new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments.
There are original stories and poems found in videos and descriptions on this channel - but you will also find talented, aspiring (and inspiring) writers in the comments sections here.
Write something for the prompt and I may pin your poem or story for a time for everyone to see. Write only what you are comfortable with sharing, as at least a few thousand people may read your work!
Hit the notification bell if you’d like to know when the next one arrives. As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.")
