Uploaded February 2018 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
This old Highlander has become a little grumpy over time. No jeweled swords, no ornaments, just white rags. On his left forearm, however, is a horse, engraved by his wife, Mrs. Highlander.
This old Highlander has become a little grumpy over time. No jeweled swords, no ornaments, just white rags. On his left forearm, however, is a horse, engraved by his wife, Mrs. Highlander.
![How Highlander Survives These Days (Letter from his Wife in Description) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/gjZZOu8AjUg/mqdefault.jpg "How Highlander Survives These Days (Letter from his Wife in Description) [For Honor]
The old man read the letter that his wife wrote on parchment using a fingernail and her own blood: My dear love, it is I who talks to birds, and I write this to you from a moving cage. Much has changed in our land since you’ve been away. People speak of Honor as something that is won or kept in battle rather than as truth gained in the loyalty towards all humankind. We were attacked by a large raiding tribe. I defended our village as long as I could. Both our sons fought bravely but they are gone to the other world.
The enemy cut off our water supply in the North, slaughtered or stole our cattle. Our village was in a state of disarray when they finally invaded. When we were under siege, that was when we were at our weakest, I saw the blacksmith’s son kill his own brother over a sliver of beef and some salt. A few of our craftsmen were recruited by the enemy and turned against their kinsmen. They betrayed us and informed the enemy of our weaknesses. After the attack they killed or sold those of us who were not of use to them.
As I was able to speak some of their language, I told them I was wife to a chieftain and offered myself as ransom and translator, to save as many lives as possible. I believe your youngest sister is still alive, and she is with child, but we do not know who the father is.
Days after the raid, they asked me your name. They were seated in our very own chairs in the old hall, and I spoke your name out loud, then there was brief silence, they argued amongst themselves. Nine days later a hundred or so men left to settle elsewhere. The rest ventured West, to settle or sail, and I was taken along with them. They do not understand their horses, and so they travel slowly, we have been traveling over 15 days, as I write this we have just crossed the Cold Mountains. I see no ocean to the west, the sky merely moves into the gray. I do not know how long I’ll live, but I will try to live as long as I can. Somehow I have kept my sense of honor. I remember life with you in the summer fields and the sunlight there on the blades of the leaves. You must remember those times to me if we see each other again.")
![I Trained To Be A Psychic (To Use Warden on Old Generation) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/hM8JcWJzQH4/mqdefault.jpg "I Trained To Be A Psychic (To Use Warden on Old Generation) [For Honor]
Low Tier but a classic. Let us not allow the same for the Human Spirit. Im sure many of you have heard of Chat GPT by now. Let me share with you Merriam-Webster’s definitions of the words titling this video.
Psychic:
— of or relating to the psyche (mind and soul).
— immaterial, moral, or spiritual in origin or force.
— marked by mysterious sensitivity, perception, or understanding.
Warden:
— one having care or charge of something: guardian, keeper.
— an official in charge of the operation of a prison.
These 2 definitions are my poem to you all this time around. Whats your poem going to be in the comments? Dont write it for me, dont write for the deep-learning machine that absorbs it...write it for your soul that is capable of far more than mere imitation. Please leave crumbs behind for future generations, so they may find their way out, find their way into something better, or simply find their own way period.
If youre new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. The writing prompt for the comments section is up to you.
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.
Songs: Blue Skies (Sullivan); Little Liar (Goat Girl); Boogie Chillen (John Lee Hooker); iron Man (Black Sabbath, Boogie Chillen Mashup by Oma Gosh)
Poem: In Our Time (Muriel Rukeyser)
The Web (Watts)")
![Santa-Lander Vs. New Jormundgandr: Chill (literally Snowball) Vibes [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/i7WZ-JpUfII/mqdefault.jpg "Santa-Lander Vs. New Jormundgandr: Chill (literally Snowball) Vibes [For Honor]
I hope all of you — Good Fight Guardians as well as Toxic Grinches alike — all have a happy, safe holidays. The writing prompt is: I get peace of mind when...
Shoutout to Mege (among the Old Guard known as the greatest Warden of all time & also 1st Santa Lander). A few oldies that are still great of Meges:
https://youtu.be/s_f6iMmxVcQ?t=802
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xW1IpPKtnlo
If youre new here, this channel is largely inspired by the people who write in the comments. Check for a writing prompt at the end of the video or in the descriptions of videos. You can follow them or do your own thing creatively. Please leave poems/stories/real-life adventures of your own as well. I also highly encourage you to comment on and thumbs up other peoples poems/stories/journaling. I may pin or include your writing in a video.
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.
Songs in this video
Son of Yule by Jex Toth;
Nearer to Thee by Weyes Blood")
![Gimme a Second! (For Honor Emote Contest Idea) [For Honor]](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ii29K6CtmP8/mqdefault.jpg "Gimme a Second! (For Honor Emote Contest Idea) [For Honor]
The contest is open June 3rd - July 10th (link here): https://forhonor.ubisoft.com/game/en-us/news-community/152-350749-16/for-honor-community-emote-contest
Im relying on all of you to make this happen.
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.")
![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.
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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.
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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.
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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.")
