Warlords Log 2:

Today I sat and reflected on the world in all of it's twisted views of serenity. They say your glass is half empty or half full but what about when it overflows? Is it too full? Should you have gotten less?

I guess it's a lot like life.... you can't always get what you want, but you have to get what you need. It's the most basic form of survivial.

As I sat and watched the flocks of sea gulls early pick scraps of what seemed edible off the beach eariler I thought to myself, "This is but a song, yet to be formed" Like a giant metaphor saying, Pick your choices wisely and things will come to fruition. You don't want to be the seagull who gets the bad end of the leftovers.

So a quick 20 minutes later, I had developed a blues tune to play for the pub crawlers in town. Completely different from my sea gull scraping tune but inspired from it. It was kind of like taking a dirty ball of mud and transforming it into a clay pot.

Speaking of clay pots, my dinner is almost ready on the hearth. Seagull and Crabs.... Yum.

The Warlords Cable

Now, mostly, the warlord loves his acoustic.

When it is needed, however, the warlord likes to plug in his mighty cable.

It is his channel, his electricity, conformed to a insulated tube.

Once plugged in, it welds a creative force that is to be reckoned with.

The Warlords Book of Music

The Warlord keeps his tunes close to his heart. He stores each original masterpiece within a book.

The book is his collection, his soul, expressed on paper.

Thousands of ideas, congealed into form. Flowing like holy fire.

Warlords Journal: Entry 1

Day 001

The Day was calm today. Not much more than a trout to stir in the brook to get an ample rise out of me.

I polished my armor and sharpened the sword for good measure. Then plunged into the space of the nearby meadows in search of an adventure. Fruitless, were my ventures however, only finding a new fig tree blending in a misty grove. I tasted of it's offerings and found my self quite satisfied after the fact.

 

My hut is holding up well and I haven't seen a spot of rain. Local farmers tell me it's the dry season. This is good as I still have to prepare my camp to suite my needs.  Things are looking up and I am in high spirits.

I happened to come along a carving in a tree which I quickly etched onto a fitting sized scrap of birch bark. I have included it with today's entry.

Well then, I must prepare for the days to come. I still have yet to build a sturdy fire pit for gatherings and warmth.

And so, as it is written, I will end this entry with song.

La-da da da de de la-da te da... La-da da da de de La-ta le da.

The Warlords Nemesis

The Warlord has many foes. Each one more vial and deceitful than the next.

He battles the evil in the world with his mighty axe and silences the wicked back from whence they came.

His pleasing harmonies and thunderous guitar riffs echo with great volume to shatter the forsaken foes like fragile match sticks.

From Chaos, the Warlord brings calm and a sense of well being to cancel out the darkness from the light. 

The Warlord's Pick

The Warlord's, golden pick, the most sacred thing ever imaginable. He won it in a fierce battle with an opponent from the netherworld.

Some say it is enchanted with a holy might, others see it as just a simple piece of plastic. He holds it sternly when playing, moving ever so slightly to reach his desired pitches.  It is his tool for his instrument. It never leaves his person. It is an extension of himself and of his being.

The Warlord and his 7-String

When not playing his acoustic, the Warlord loves to play his 7-String with the Drop D tuning. He enjoys the lower sound because of the Grainy sound.