Uploaded April 2019 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
Look at this knit, the threads are faded, pale, like my mother's hands, which also hold together, folded in her lap in the photo I can't find.
Look at this pattern in the cloth, the weaves of honeycomb are ancient, so the sweater is warm, and I'll need that warmth soon.
Look at this sunlight coming in through the Sunday window, and look at this street, where no one's around, and that's alright with me, for the time being. Look at the clock.
Look, a pen is more of a lock pick.
Look who shares thoughts with onlookers, with listeners, with even the deaf – they sometimes sign, "Look at this" to each other with hand gestures anyone could understand, if only the hearing learned to sign.
Look at this language in the heart, how it wants to free itself in words, words echoed in the eyes of another. We turn, like keys, to the loved one sitting beside us, saying to them, "Honey, look at this." -- O.G.
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If you're new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Leave a like and/or nice comment under someone's writing and make their day. I make no money from this channel but please subscribe/like/hit that 'bell thing' to support each other's comments. We're trying to grow the writing community and give a bigger audience to the writers here!
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.
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***In the right hands HL's OS dodge recovery makes him very dangerous in 4's. I've seen requests lately for advice playing him against multiple enemies and so here is my second video along those lines.
Look at this knit, the threads are faded, pale, like my mother's hands, which also hold together, folded in her lap in the photo I can't find.
Look at this pattern in the cloth, the weaves of honeycomb are ancient, so the sweater is warm, and I'll need that warmth soon.
Look at this sunlight coming in through the Sunday window, and look at this street, where no one's around, and that's alright with me, for the time being. Look at the clock.
Look, a pen is more of a lock pick.
Look who shares thoughts with onlookers, with listeners, with even the deaf – they sometimes sign, "Look at this" to each other with hand gestures anyone could understand, if only the hearing learned to sign.
Look at this language in the heart, how it wants to free itself in words, words echoed in the eyes of another. We turn, like keys, to the loved one sitting beside us, saying to them, "Honey, look at this." -- O.G.
________________________________________________
If you're new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Leave a like and/or nice comment under someone's writing and make their day. I make no money from this channel but please subscribe/like/hit that 'bell thing' to support each other's comments. We're trying to grow the writing community and give a bigger audience to the writers here!
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.
---------------------------
***In the right hands HL's OS dodge recovery makes him very dangerous in 4's. I've seen requests lately for advice playing him against multiple enemies and so here is my second video along those lines.
![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.")
![Rep 70 Highlander (Boxer Technique) - Read Description [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YcD3iJnklJM/mqdefault.jpg "Rep 70 Highlander (Boxer Technique) - Read Description [For Honor]
HONEYSUCKLE FOR ALL - When the old man read the letter he was alone and gripped the parchment and slept with it in his hands, and even though the weather was cold he slept well, and when he woke he headed for a river, because a river will tell what time of year it is, how close or far a hunter is from a mountain, how far the sea is, how many animals may be nearby. Every time he doubted his step he could hear his wife’s voice, soft but clear, like the nearby branches in the wind. You will find me, she said, in every step you take.
And so the sun would rise and fall in accordance with the right direction. The old man encountered many more battles along the way. Always some warrior wished to test their skill against him.
Some pondered that the old man’s search was everyone’s search.There was a great discussion spreading across the lands. Villagers heard of his troubles. There was a Shaman at a gravesite who, instead of fighting the old man, ran in circles around him, to show him that even the spirit world believed in his search for his lost Love.
Experience taught the old man that when times are most dire, even the weakest among us can suddenly discover a courage and sense of dignity that they did not have before. It is when one does not have the time to be sad – that is when the human heart rises above what was possible back in sleepier days. To be able to carry that strength into our everyday lives, he thought. It is not a decision. It is a habit. Like the art of fighting, or the art of singing—it is a practice that comes with time.
Then the old man thought back to many years ago when his wife had told him she was with child. They had been enjoying how the smell of Honeysuckle blew through their home that summer. During a great storm that next year, his wife lost their child in labor — she had barely survived. They were never able to have children of their own after that, but one day she said to him, My Love, look at all the people around us, young and old. Are they not in great need, many of them? If we were to have a child, that child would one day grow up and we would have to set them free out into the wild. But everyone must walk this wilderness as they grow. They will all be our sons and daughters. That is what makes us the Elders. We must be there for all in their time of need. []
Song Credits:
Forever Dolphin Love
Scream (Goat Girl)
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. Please share this channel with people everywhere and let them know the prompt is at the end of the video in case they simply want to write here. As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.")
![A Conversation Remembered - Reputation 60 Highlander [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/YjhBc1bAcnc/mqdefault.jpg "A Conversation Remembered - Reputation 60 Highlander [For Honor]
BE CREATIVE IN YOUR COMMENTS. ALSO GIVE A THUMBS UP AND LEAVE POSITIVE FEEDBACK TO OTHERS CREATIVITY YOU FIND HERE. SUPPORT EACH OTHERS WRITING.
This channel has gameplay but seeks to write (and share) short stories and poetry (in all the videos and/or descriptions).
There is a unique collection of stories and poems found in videos and descriptions under the playlist The Old Mans Story - but you will find talented, aspiring and inspiring writers in the comments of this channel. Write something for the prompt and I may pin your poem or story for a time for everyone to see.
By all means share this channel with people who may not play video-games, but just enjoy writing. Hit the notification bell if you’d like to know when the next round arrives. As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.")
![Old Man Highlander VS. Kensei, Berserker & Conqueror – [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ZP8JSKqyjrI/mqdefault.jpg "Old Man Highlander VS. Kensei, Berserker & Conqueror – [For Honor]
On his broadening way home, familiar faces with new techniques astonish the old man (he discovers it is best not to fight one opponent at all!). He continues to gather wild stories – only the best of which he will share, one day, by a fire, with Mrs. Highlander.
As requested here are fights with Berserker(s), Kensei(s) and Conqueror(s). I hope you Highlanders (and other heroes) out there find this useful and fun to watch.
Ive been a rep 40 HL for a while now (duels and brawls) – I don’t pretend to be the best! One of the most challenging but rewarding aspects of using Highlander landing damage or dodging often depends on good reads. His playstyle sings to me.
The first song here is a snippet of an early live performance of Joe Cockers cover of With A Little Help From My Friends and the other song is Conan Mockasins Forever Dolphin Love
(I dont own any rights, and make no money from this channel its all a labor of love but PLEASE if you like the music PLEASE support the artists and go and buy their music directly!)
Also, please encourage a kind, clean community not just here on this channel, but also within the For Honor community, and especially out there, in all our shared lives. Be cool to one another as you Dun Ma Glas.")
![Creativity (Read Description) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/cPiDIaPR0Ag/mqdefault.jpg "Creativity (Read Description) [For Honor]
Look at a photo of yourself when you were a child. If you could write a letter, or a poem or story to that child, what would you say? Heres mine:
I don’t remember it but in this picture you’re charging forward laughing, your arms point to the person behind the camera who would not be there the rest of your life.
Young one, you were not born to stress – those were merely spiderwebs in your hair, from hiding in the dusty attic where you slept, your bed was the dust where the grown-ups stored their old arguments and your pillow was full of your neighborhood hiding its monstrosities around you.
You shook your head out. You had to shake off a venomous daze from a few spider bites also, but you joined the world, despite the people.
Young one, flecks of dust, and wisps of webs catch sunlight pretty well - the word “well” is a deep word, and wellness will be there, albeit some ways off. Remember, through honesty, the well carries long, long thoughts.
I, too, shake my head these days. My hair is spiderweb silver but you can now trust my arms to catch you from falling. Your forgiveness has meant everything to me.
Share this writing prompt with family and friends who love writing.
If youre new to the channel, I highly recommend you subscribe not for my sake (I make no money from this) but because this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments, and we are helping to build a larger audience for all your writing.
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.")
