My first name is common, shared by kings and farmers alike. My last is like a leader who governs towns through the ages. I strum and sing with soulful flair. Who am I?

I'm beaten by an Ace, But better than a Queen The throne is my place, I got my position by gene

Bold seafarer clad in iron, sails the northern winds, where gods whisper in the frost and tales of conquest echo through time.

Born in silence, fed on leaves, I am torn from living sleep. Worms die so kings may shine. I crossed empires soaked in blood, passed hand to hand through plague and greed. Roads were named for me, yet I never chose the journey.

A magazine with a high number of bullets. I am also used to store harmful chemicals. I can often be found in marching bands or be used to intimidate my enemies on the battlefield.