Why the saga begins in an attic, not on a battlefield
Old-fart storyteller
There’s something hauntingly beautiful about characters who don’t swing swords, cast spells, or command armies — the ones who simply watch the world and keep its memory alive. Bakarak is exactly that kind of soul.
He’s not a hero. Not a warrior. Not a chosen one.
He’s a wanderer with a notebook, drifting through Globiuz like a shadow, collecting the stories everyone else forgets.
He listens in taverns. He walks through ruins. He writes down the lives of ordinary people — the ones history usually erases.
And somehow, that makes him one of the most important figures in the entire world.
Because when kingdoms fall and legends fade, it’s the quiet historians who keep the truth from disappearing.
Bakarak feels like the patron saint of:
archivists
writers
wanderers
introverts
anyone who’s ever felt invisible but still wanted to leave something meaningful behind
He’s not shaping Globiuz with power — he’s shaping it with memory.
And honestly, that hits different.
