The Artisan
Artisan
The
The Artisan was carved from the same enchanted forest as Dymitralis, shaped by Kupalo’s craftmasters with tools infused with ancient spells. Though it carries no spirit, its golden crystal knobs and smooth, organic tone make it a mirror to the Great Holder’s will—pure creation without rebellion.
Other living guitars are drawn to it in reverence, unsettled by its stillness yet humbled by its eternal, silent strength.
Ernie Ball Music Man
Majesty
Artisan Marrone
Specifications
Model: John Petrucci Signature Majesty 6
Build Date: August 4th, 2016
Finish: Artisan Marrone (Matte)
Body: African Mahogany with Etched Maple Top
Weight: 6.7 lbs
Neck: Honduran Mahogany (Neck-Through Design)
Inlays: Glass Shields and Glass Majesty Emblem
Fingerboard: Ebony, 17" Radius
Frets: 24 Medium Jumbo Stainless Steel
Scale Length: 25.5"
Pickups: DiMarzio Illuminators (Neck & Bridge)
Electronics: Custom Preamp with 20dB Boost (Push/Push), Piezo System, 3-Way Pickup Selector, Mono/Stereo Output
Bridge: Custom John Petrucci Music Man Floating Tremolo with Piezo
Tuners: Schaller M6 Locking
Hardware: Gold
Nomran: M03779
Build Code: 600-A1-50-00-CS-GD
Set Up
Action Height Bass: 1.6mm
Action Height Treble: 1.2mm
Tuning: E-Flat Standard
Strings: Ernie Ball Regular Slinky Nickel Wound Electric Guitar Strings, 10-46 Gauge (P02221; Green)
The Artisan – The Still Voice of the Forest
In the deep shade of the Enchanted Forest—where the canopy blocks all but thin shafts of light, and where the roots twist together as if whispering in a language of old—there once stood a tree older than the memories of men. It was not as massive as the one that birthed Dymitralis, yet it grew beside it, nourished by the same soil and bathed in the same streams of silver light that filtered down through the leaves.
When the craftmasters of Kupalo’s age sought wood for an instrument unlike any other, they carried into the forest a set of tools forged from spells and relics. These tools were enchanted not to carve with the will of the smith, but to shape with the will of the earth itself. For weeks, they labored, not cutting, but coaxing the tree to surrender a piece of its being, a slab of living wood that was set gently upon the workbench.
With every stroke of the tools, the wood glowed faintly, as if alive—but when the last cut was made, the light dimmed. Unlike Dymitralis, who carries a spirit in its veins, or Vonzuul, who rattles with ghostly whispers, The Artisan was born empty. Silent. Still.
Its beauty, however, was unmatched. Smooth and warm, its body shimmered with subtle grains that seemed to flow like rivers. The knobs were shaped from golden crystals, mined from the veins of Hemelkloof itself—crystals said to contain whispers of Kupalo’s ancient battles. Yet even with such majesty, The Artisan stirred with no breath of spirit, no hidden voice.
When it was first strung, the craftmasters despaired, for they thought they had failed. But when the Great Holder took it in hand, the forest itself seemed to pause. The notes that poured forth were thick and meaty, yet astonishingly smooth, like roots pushing endlessly through the soil. Though lifeless, The Artisan’s tone was the most organic of all—pure sound, unshaped by soul or spirit, but instead reflecting only the hands that touched it.
Word of The Artisan spread quickly among the living guitars. Maple, gentle guardian of the trees, felt a strange kinship with it, and often watched in still silence whenever the Great Holder played. Cryovar, the frost-forged twin of Rhaemos, once drew near and declared that The Artisan was “neither dead nor alive, but a mirror.” And Valpearl, ever ancient, regarded it as a curiosity, a relic of craftsmanship rather than destiny.
Though it lacked will or voice, many guitars were drawn to it nonetheless. Perhaps they envied its purity, for The Artisan did not argue, rage, or rebel. Perhaps they pitied it, for it had no spirit to guide it, no hunger, no pride. Or perhaps, most fearfully, they recognized that within its stillness lay something greater: a perfect vessel, capable of carrying only the true sound of the Great Holder.
The Artisan has never fought in battle, nor taken part in the quarrels that split forests and deserts. Yet in its presence, the living guitars grow quieter, as though humbled. For while they blaze with fire and storm, or echo with ghost and dragon, The Artisan remains unmoved—an eternal testament to pure creation.
And thus, The Artisan stands apart in the Kupalo Mythos: not alive, but unforgotten. Not willful, but essential. Its tone is the earth itself, sung only through the hands of the Great Holder, who alone can draw forth its voice.
The Artisan – The Still Voice of the Forest
I. The Crafting
Long ago, when the Enchanted Forest whispered with secrets and shimmered with the silent movements of roots, Kupalo commanded his most skilled craftmasters to attempt a creation unlike any other. They brought with them enchanted tools—chisels that sang in faint tones, hammers that rang as though striking crystal, and planes that smoothed wood with the memory of wind.
They approached a tree born beside the one that had given life to Dymitralis, its trunk strong but lacking the hidden spark of spirit. For weeks they worked, coaxing—not carving—until the wood revealed its form. When it was finished, the body shone warmly, and golden knobs carved from crystalline ore of Hemelkloof pulsed faintly in the light. But when strung and played, it sang only as wood and string. No voice, no presence.
The craftmasters mourned, believing they had failed. Yet Kupalo declared: “Even silence is part of the song.” And thus, the guitar was given to the Great Holder, who named it The Artisan.
II. The Meeting with Maple
The first guitar to draw near was Maple, the tree-guardian. When The Great Holder strummed The Artisan, its tones rolled like steady roots through the earth, each note thick and grounding. Maple, curious, placed its own song alongside it—and found no resistance, no battle, no clash of will.
For the first time, Maple felt what it was like to play in perfect peace. The Artisan mirrored Maple’s voice, grounding it, amplifying its warmth, but never pushing back. From that day, Maple regarded The Artisan as a brother of the forest: a sibling without spirit, but filled with the echo of life’s soil.
III. The Challenge of Cryovar
When Cryovar, the frost-forged twin, heard of The Artisan, it scoffed. A lifeless guitar? A hollow shell? Cryovar demanded to hear it and came storming to the Holder’s side.
The Great Holder lifted The Artisan and played. Its sound was thick and deep, like the steady march of glaciers. Cryovar answered with piercing frost-notes, crystalline and cutting. But instead of battling, The Artisan absorbed them, grounding their sharpness in a bed of warmth.
For a moment, Cryovar faltered. It declared, “This is no warrior, but it is no shell. It is a mirror that forces us to hear ourselves.” From then on, Cryovar never again mocked The Artisan.
IV. The Judgment of Valpearl
The ancient Valpearl, older than most, came upon The Artisan as though gazing at a curiosity. It examined the golden knobs, the lifeless glow of crystal, and the smooth perfection of its wood.
“Without spirit, you cannot shape destiny,” Valpearl intoned. “Without voice, you cannot command.”
But when the Holder played, Valpearl found itself unsettled. The Artisan did not command, yet its voice blended with the Holder’s in such purity that even Valpearl’s wisdom faltered. The elder guitar finally admitted: “Perhaps not all thrones require kings.”
V. The Silence of Vonzuul
One night, the ghostly Vonzuul drifted from shadow, drawn to The Artisan. For hours it circled, whispering, moaning, rattling its hollow chords as though to provoke a response. But The Artisan remained still.
At last, Vonzuul bent close and hissed: “Do you not fear me? Do you not even hear me?”
But The Artisan gave nothing back. Only silence, thick as stone. And for the first time, Vonzuul ceased its haunting song and slipped away, unsettled that something could be so unmoved.
VI. The Still Voice of the Mythos
Though never alive, never rebellious, never part of war, The Artisan has become a quiet center in the Kupalo Mythos. Where others clash—flame against frost, spirit against shadow—The Artisan remains neutral, still, eternal.
It is said that when The Great Holder chooses to play it, the forest itself grows silent, the rivers pause, and even the living guitars bow their heads. For The Artisan carries no will, no desire, no hunger—only pure creation.
And in that purity lies its legend. For while other guitars blaze with life, The Artisan proves that even stillness can be eternal, and even silence can shape the song.