They call him the Traveler.
It's not an unearned title; even if he sticks around for a week, he's unlikely to stay much longer than that. You're more likely to find him by chance on the road, or perhaps checking into the same inn that you had. Not many see him twice; those who can claim to have seen him thrice are few and far between, and frequently travelers themselves, by trade or fate.
Of course, it's a simplistic title. It doesn't contain the whole of who he is; no title could do that for any but the crudest of folks. The Traveler travels, excellent. And? What does he do? Well, any number of things, really. It's why he's earned other titles besides.
The Keeper of Tales, or the Songweaver. The Devil's Advocate, or the Angel of Dissent. The Pactbroker, or the Breaker of Chains. The Listener, or the Blind Man.
Oh, yes, didn't I mention that? The blindfold he wears, there's a myriad stories just about it. Some say he traded his sight for clarity, others that it was stolen and he's searching for it. Some claim that the blindfold is magic, while others state he merely sees past such obstructions. Me? Hehe, well, he has an affinity for illusions; who's to say the blindfold is even real to begin with? He never seems to be hindered by it. But I digress.
Yes, Keeper of Tales and Songweaver. Oh, he's a delightful bard. I was lucky enough to stay the night at an inn he stopped at; he pulled out a lute, and enthralled us all with fanciful stories and songs, pulling us in with pictures drawn right into the air around us! Oh, it was absolutely breathtaking. Everyone should see it sometime during their lives, though most won't. It's sad, truly. There are folks who write down all his tunes and lyrics, but it simply isn't the same played by others.
Ah, but he is not merely a bard! Devil's Advocate, and the Angel of Dissent. Odd names, aren't they? But sometimes, he's said to show up someplace settled - rarely much, mind you, typically a village or so. Maybe a small town. Someplace where people know each other, where there's a way things are done. And up out of nowhere, our Traveler arrives, starts asking questions. Not provocative ones - never rude. Merely questions, curiosity, a fascination with how things are done... and all the while, these questions make people think. Why do we do it this way? Are there other ways? And maybe there was somebody they never listened to before, whose words suddenly have an ounce more weight to them. And then the Traveler is off, having sown the seeds of change. Perhaps they sprout. Perhaps the people decide that no, how we're doing it now has merit, and there's no need to change. But they think, and they come to a decision, rather than merely continuing as they always had.
Oh, yes. Pactbroker, Breaker of Chains. They're quite different, aren't they? Ah, but where the other titles are merely facets of a role, these two complement each other. The first forges order where there is discord; the latter grants freedom where there is tyranny. How are those related? Why, they both ensure that people live well, my darling. The Traveler takes these roles within cities and kingdoms, not the petty hamlets he frequents with the others. In some, those with the power to rule embroil themselves in petty conflicts, wasting away their skills and neglecting their responsibilities to their people. There, the Traveler shows his wisdom, sometimes finding feuding lords and cutting to the root of their issues, other times granting platform to the common people, until a solution may be reached and society can go on. But other times, the powerful use their strength to cast down any who may oppose them, twisting the law of the land toward naught but their own benefit. It is here that the Traveler shows his strength, as the ruling class swiftly finds their authority worthless in the face of an entire society of folks tired of heeding it; the city survives, but the corruption never does.
But for those who the Traveler encounters on the road itself... they say he is a quiet man, then. Resting in the shade of a tree, or sitting atop a lone boulder, seemingly watching the sun pass by. They say, though, that everything around him seems... more. The wind, the leaves, the clouds seem to hold greater depths of detail than before. He doesn't sleep; people say they've spoken with him, and while he may not respond, they still say he affirms his attention. And it seems that all who sit with him a while, drink in the world, that they always get up refreshed, and... they take something with them, I think. That extra glimpse into the world never truly leaves them. So, yes. Listener, they call him, and the Blind Man. But the first is truly more important than the latter.
That is the Traveler, my darling daughter. One day, perhaps, you'll get a chance to meet him, as I had. I pray that you do. Now, go to sleep.