Jupiter Bone was born within the subterranean enclave of San'Sirot, a sanctuary where the Mali’ker have long sought refuge from the ancient curses laid upon the land of Malin. Raised by a traditionalist father who obsessively studied the Chronicles of Ancient History, she grew up hearing tales of the Great Collapse and the devastating wars against the Undead of Aegis. Her childhood was spent in a spiritual environment defined by the worship of the ancestors, where she was taught that the "Long Life" granted by the Aenguls was a gift to be used for reflection and family devotion. However, Jupiter felt stifled by the silent, incense-filled halls of her home, finding the weight of her family’s expectations more crushing than the stone ceilings above her. Despite her deep respect for her heritage and the vine-like tattoos she inked to honor her lineage, she felt a restless pull toward the surface world that her elders feared. Seeking to discover if the "Seven Skys" mentioned by the Wandering Wizard truly held a place for her, she finally gathered her few belongings and departed the caverns for good. Now, at twenty years of age, she wanders the diverse landscapes of Aevos, eager to forge a new legacy that balances her Dark Elven passion with the freedom of the open air.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
Jupiter steps into the cramped shack, her pale eyes quickly adjusting to the flickering candlelight. She pulls her indigo hair over one shoulder and drops into the offered chair, her tall frame moving with a quiet, practiced grace.
"I'm from San'Sirot," she says, her voice steady as she leans back and crosses her legs. She reaches up to absentmindedly scratch at one of the small grey horns poking through her hair, a habit from years of living in the tight tunnels of the underground.
"My family spent every waking hour obsessing over the Ancestors, but I couldn't spend another seventy years staring at the same stone walls." She rests her ashen arms on the table, the dark vine tattoos standing out against her skin in the dim light. "I’m in Aevos to see if there’s more to being a Mali’ker than just guarding old graves and reciting history books." She tilts her head, giving the hag a blunt, expectant look as she waits to see if the old woman actually has anything useful to tell her.
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