Unknown Wandering Warrior

"'Maeror' is the name he had given his sword and it seemed there was nothing more dear to him, atleast not anymore, not for a long time. Quiet, and seemingly kind but above all, a man drowned in roughness and ambiguity. Where he was going; unclear, what he wanted; possibly nonexistent but he was on his way somewhere.
What was clear was the enormity of the man. Little things told me a superficial story about who he might be. Specks of blood crusted in between his armor, the weathered but well kept nature of his mane and red linen, and the sheer strength of the man. I could swear the ground rumbled as he lifted himself up every morning
I don't know why it surprised me everytime because he never put down that sword of his. Never laid down to sleep but rather sat and rested the sword on his shoulder through the night..."