![O.G. Highlander Compilation (Story in Description) [For Honor] @omagosh](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/inlh7V6Lhc8/maxresdefault.jpg)
Uploaded January 2021 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
-- A FIRE WITHIN -- After years of searching for his Love, the Old Man felt like it was not a search but rather exile. He no longer felt that seething flame when his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his Claymore. The metal weighed more somehow. He looked up to the sky. He wanted to see the peace in her eyes again, as one evening the moon shone bright in the water of a deep well, and he thought he saw her looking up at him. Somewhere, not that far off, sleek feathers of raven wings were bent and still in a tree. A chill went through the Old Man’s faded bones. A shot of lightning pierced the sardonic air.
Had the Banshee called upon one of his loved ones to carry them away, he wondered. If the night was telling him his wife was no more, he refused to give in.
In the cave he heard the drip drip of cold water sliding down the part of the cave that grows down into spikes. He could sense that the first snow of the season was upon him. He needed to warm himself. At first, he attempted to call upon the memories of his wife. It did not work. He could not see her face. But they had a bond that could not be broken, so he built a fire.
To build a fire is a ritual that we all must do at least once in our lives, he thought, but the Old Man had built many fires and none of them had warmed him the way the fire at home had, many many years ago. There are some feelings that fires offer that they may only offer once in a lifetime. The idea is to try and carry the feeling from that fire onto your next fire.
Then the Old Man went out hunting, but he needed to feel the creature calling him. He licked the tip of his finger, raised it up to the wind, felt the wind’s compass on his fingertip, pointing due North. The Old Man heard the wind whisper her name, but it could have been the trees. It didn’t matter — he set out in that direction. When he stepped forward, the fire dissipated behind him, and even the smoky incense from the fire followed him at first, wrapping around his body like a ghost shield, and then letting go of him, like a traveler’s blessing.
If you feel True North on your fingers, you must follow it, he said to himself. That is the direction of the Goddess of the Hunt, and either you will find what you are looking for, or else it will find you.
****************************** END **************************
If you're new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Check the end of the video or the description for the writing prompt, or just write whatever creative thing you like.
***********************
PROMPT: For this video, write something that incorporates a memory and use at least 3 or more senses. Also, if there are clips you wished I included, go ahead and mention those in the comments as well.
*********************************************
Unfortunately Youtube has turned off notifications for many of my subs, so PLEASE hit the notification bell after subbing – it helps all the writers who leave great comments (otherwise I wouldn't ask). As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
Music:
jamaeldean.bandcamp.com/album/ished-tree
#ForHonor #HighlanderTechniques #CreativeWriting
-- A FIRE WITHIN -- After years of searching for his Love, the Old Man felt like it was not a search but rather exile. He no longer felt that seething flame when his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his Claymore. The metal weighed more somehow. He looked up to the sky. He wanted to see the peace in her eyes again, as one evening the moon shone bright in the water of a deep well, and he thought he saw her looking up at him. Somewhere, not that far off, sleek feathers of raven wings were bent and still in a tree. A chill went through the Old Man’s faded bones. A shot of lightning pierced the sardonic air.
Had the Banshee called upon one of his loved ones to carry them away, he wondered. If the night was telling him his wife was no more, he refused to give in.
In the cave he heard the drip drip of cold water sliding down the part of the cave that grows down into spikes. He could sense that the first snow of the season was upon him. He needed to warm himself. At first, he attempted to call upon the memories of his wife. It did not work. He could not see her face. But they had a bond that could not be broken, so he built a fire.
To build a fire is a ritual that we all must do at least once in our lives, he thought, but the Old Man had built many fires and none of them had warmed him the way the fire at home had, many many years ago. There are some feelings that fires offer that they may only offer once in a lifetime. The idea is to try and carry the feeling from that fire onto your next fire.
Then the Old Man went out hunting, but he needed to feel the creature calling him. He licked the tip of his finger, raised it up to the wind, felt the wind’s compass on his fingertip, pointing due North. The Old Man heard the wind whisper her name, but it could have been the trees. It didn’t matter — he set out in that direction. When he stepped forward, the fire dissipated behind him, and even the smoky incense from the fire followed him at first, wrapping around his body like a ghost shield, and then letting go of him, like a traveler’s blessing.
If you feel True North on your fingers, you must follow it, he said to himself. That is the direction of the Goddess of the Hunt, and either you will find what you are looking for, or else it will find you.
****************************** END **************************
If you're new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Check the end of the video or the description for the writing prompt, or just write whatever creative thing you like.
***********************
PROMPT: For this video, write something that incorporates a memory and use at least 3 or more senses. Also, if there are clips you wished I included, go ahead and mention those in the comments as well.
*********************************************
Unfortunately Youtube has turned off notifications for many of my subs, so PLEASE hit the notification bell after subbing – it helps all the writers who leave great comments (otherwise I wouldn't ask). As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
Music:
jamaeldean.bandcamp.com/album/ished-tree
#ForHonor #HighlanderTechniques #CreativeWriting
![O.G. Highlander Compilation (Story in Description) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/inlh7V6Lhc8/mqdefault.jpg "O.G. Highlander Compilation (Story in Description) [For Honor]
A FIRE WITHIN After years of searching for his Love, the Old Man felt like it was not a search but rather exile. He no longer felt that seething flame when his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his Claymore. The metal weighed more somehow. He looked up to the sky. He wanted to see the peace in her eyes again, as one evening the moon shone bright in the water of a deep well, and he thought he saw her looking up at him. Somewhere, not that far off, sleek feathers of raven wings were bent and still in a tree. A chill went through the Old Man’s faded bones. A shot of lightning pierced the sardonic air.
Had the Banshee called upon one of his loved ones to carry them away, he wondered. If the night was telling him his wife was no more, he refused to give in.
In the cave he heard the drip drip of cold water sliding down the part of the cave that grows down into spikes. He could sense that the first snow of the season was upon him. He needed to warm himself. At first, he attempted to call upon the memories of his wife. It did not work. He could not see her face. But they had a bond that could not be broken, so he built a fire.
To build a fire is a ritual that we all must do at least once in our lives, he thought, but the Old Man had built many fires and none of them had warmed him the way the fire at home had, many many years ago. There are some feelings that fires offer that they may only offer once in a lifetime. The idea is to try and carry the feeling from that fire onto your next fire.
Then the Old Man went out hunting, but he needed to feel the creature calling him. He licked the tip of his finger, raised it up to the wind, felt the wind’s compass on his fingertip, pointing due North. The Old Man heard the wind whisper her name, but it could have been the trees. It didn’t matter — he set out in that direction. When he stepped forward, the fire dissipated behind him, and even the smoky incense from the fire followed him at first, wrapping around his body like a ghost shield, and then letting go of him, like a traveler’s blessing.
If you feel True North on your fingers, you must follow it, he said to himself. That is the direction of the Goddess of the Hunt, and either you will find what you are looking for, or else it will find you.
****************************** END **************************
If youre new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Check the end of the video or the description for the writing prompt, or just write whatever creative thing you like.
***********************
PROMPT: For this video, write something that incorporates a memory and use at least 3 or more senses. Also, if there are clips you wished I included, go ahead and mention those in the comments as well.
*********************************************
Unfortunately Youtube has turned off notifications for many of my subs, so PLEASE hit the notification bell after subbing – it helps all the writers who leave great comments (otherwise I wouldnt ask). As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.
Music:
https://jamaeldean.bandcamp.com/album/ished-tree
#ForHonor #HighlanderTechniques #CreativeWriting")
![Hound of Tara vs. The Old Man (Story in Description) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jRk_gJuE-Z4/mqdefault.jpg "Hound of Tara vs. The Old Man (Story in Description) [For Honor]
JUST AS ANTLERS BRANCH TO A CERTAIN POINT
Some villagers who’d heard of the old man left their homes open to him, and on rare occasions when he accepted – after a particularly hard fight, for instance – they sometimes spoke about him when they thought he was asleep in the next room, but the old man often heard what they said. Some said they feared the old mans village, along with his wife, had been burned down in war. Others thought that the old man’s wife had escaped alive but had to move quietly and quickly, and this was why it was so hard for the old man to now find her.
“The old man’s wife is one of the greatest bards to have ever lived,” one villager said. “She wrote a song when the two of them wed.They say that once you know the lyrics, you can hear it anywhere in the world. Each note will cut through the densest forests and fogs and ring true in your ear.”
Another villager said, “The old man’s wife is no longer in this world, but very much like the flow of a river, her spirit can be followed, and that is why the old man does not seem to have a destination, because he is following a spirit.”
Still, other villagers wondered if the old man was indeed mad. Some said his madness made him wander, willing to take up any battle, however worthy, because there was no risk in it at all.
A few said that all these rumors were false. That his wife was indeed alive. That the old man’s sanity was as solid as stone, and it was actually his wife who long ago had urged him to learn the ways of all people; to learn the languages of others; to find and guide, and even protect, those in need. They said this was the reason the old man wandered, and for so long, because everywhere he went, he found people in need.
But on this night the old man did not hear any of this talk. He slept soundly in an abandoned cathedral. It was quite a find. Far from the gossip of villagers, with Fall leaves as his bedding, the old man dreamed that he fought a great warrior who also wielded a Claymore like his own. This other warrior was younger, had keen reflexes and knew every move the old man had learned or else had taught himself. Perhaps he was having a discussion with himself. He used to worry about many things when he was younger. And maybe he still did worry – but now the worry was not so much in his mind, now it was more in the body – just as antlers branch to a certain point. Reality steadied. That is why antlers make such a good helm: you can see exactly where things are. In the dream he fought and laughed and, when he woke up, he packed up his things, and continued on.
If you dont already know Hound of Taras channel, please check it out: https://www.youtube.com/user/xXTheGreenGruntXx Not only does it have truly great gameplay, there are a lot of very funny videos as well, but hes really one of the nicest people around. Really. Please show him support! He deserves it!
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.")
![The Old Man Gets Straight As (Dominion) - [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jsaLVVNp7Sg/mqdefault.jpg "The Old Man Gets Straight As (Dominion) - [For Honor]
Gift
I have to trust what was given to me
if I am to trust anything
it led the stars over the shadowless mountain
what does it not remember in its night and silence
what does it not hope knowing itself no child of time
what did it not begin what will it not end
I have to hold it up in my hands as my ribs hold up my heart
I have to let it open its wings and fly among the gifts of the unknown
again in the mountain I have to turn
to the morning
I must be led by what was given to me
as streams are led by it
and braiding flights of birds
the gropings of veins the learning of plants
the thankful days
breath by breath
I call to it Nameless One O Invisible
Untouchable Free
I am nameless I am divided
I am invisible I am untouchable
and empty
nomad live with me
be my eyes
my tongue and my hands
my sleep and my rising
out of chaos
come and be given
W.S. Merwin
If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person.
– Fred Rogers
This channel has gameplay but seeks to write short stories and poetry (in the videos and/or descriptions of said videos under The Old Mans Story Playlist) and in the comments as well.
By all means share with people who may not play video-games, and 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.
Copyright Disclaimer Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for fair use for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, educational or personal use tips the balance in favor of fair use. All copyrighted materials contained herein belong to their respective copyright holders, I do not claim ownership over any of these materials. I realize no profit, monetary or otherwise, from the exhibition of this video.
Songs: Think & And (Freshly Wrapped Candies); Wang Dang Doodle (Howlin Wolf); Swing on A Star (Little Eva); Alan Watts; Neil Degrasse Tyson")
![My Favorite 5 Minutes of Samurai Fighting [Ghost of Tsushima End Fight]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jvwKpWQDuJA/mqdefault.jpg "My Favorite 5 Minutes of Samurai Fighting [Ghost of Tsushima End Fight]
What gives you the courage to make really hard choices? You can answer directly by giving an example, or just write a poem or story!
Warning: this is a SPOILER if you intend to play the game. Before the first update, I played the game on Lethal difficulty with no charms and no armor, so I was ready for this final fight. But I lost a lot. But I also won 3 times and restarted. Why?
Because I wanted a win based on changing my fighting stances and canceling attacks to bait Shimura, so I could experience this truly cinematic duel. The results show off the time SP put into this games fighting mechanics. There were no set patterns to the order of his attacks (from what I could tell).
Sucker Punch is a good name for the creators.
Being wrapped up in the games central questions of honor (questions that you are familiar with on this channel already), I chose not to revive during this fight.
If youre new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Check the end of the video for the writing prompt or do your own thing. Like other peoples writing and if you see someone new here, welcome them. If YOU write something for the prompt 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 will read what you write! I look forward to your comments.
PLEASE hit the notification bell after subbing – it helps us all (otherwise I wouldnt ask). As always, be kind, not only here and in your gaming, but especially out there, in all our shared lives.")
![Warlord Is Pretty Rude Pre-Buff [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/k-oetu-gkQw/mqdefault.jpg "Warlord Is Pretty Rude Pre-Buff [For Honor]
Vortiger looks cool, but I hope this video sheds light on the potential for Warlord next season, since hes getting new combos. After all, Warlord is the Original Sword-and-Shield, so the hype is justified!
If youre new to the channel, welcome! 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.
By all means share this channel with people who may not play video-games, but just enjoy writing or history. 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.")
