Diana Tinderflame was born to a poor woodcutter and his wife. From the circumstances of her birth, one would think her to have never become more than the wife to a merchant, chasing a housefull of children about the house. That would have been so for almost anyone else.

Her father Gunnar taught her a love for the woods and spoke in awe of the wonder and power of God, manifest in the things around us in nature. She sometimes wished for the connection to the earth that the elves seemed to posses. One day her world changed in ways that none could have prediced. She was walking in the groves of aspen not far from her father's cottage, contemplating the true purpose of life when she experienced what would set in motion the events of her life.

She heard an awful howling sound approaching. Looking up, she saw a fiery ball plunge out of the skies and impact on the forest floor some distance away. She heard the splintering of trees as if but twigs, then it ceased. She saw the fireball raise above the trees again. It skipped like this twice, each time its impact sent shock waves through the ground. The sound was very near and approaching quickly. Diana dived behind a rock and saw the thing crash at her, knocking down a few last trees before coming to a rest, crashing against an outcropping of granite nearby.

She peeked from safety. Not far off, partially buried in soil and broken branches, was a black sphere about twice her height. Though the sun beamed down from almost directly above, nowhere on the surface of the thing did she see its reflection or even a highlight. No part of the sphere appeared lighter or darker than any other part. Diana's curiosity got the best of her. She stepped from her hiding to check the it out. Despite its fiery descent, the dry grass around it did not light afire. She walked up to it and still nothing happened. She reached out her hand and touched it, reluctantly at first. It felt cool to her touch, which surprised her even more.

She ran her hand over it and felt her reality slipping away to another time, a different place. The blue sky above was replaced with the blackness of night, stars like diamonds on inky black velvet. She was aboard an elven airship, far above what she could only guess was her planet, Jera. She would have loved to have stared at its beauty for an eternity, but such luxuries were not to be hers for now. She saw two massive ships appear before her, firing ballista and a hail of arrows at the ship she was on. Amidst the running of the crew aboard the deck, an old man caught her eye. He struggled across the deck, a thick-shafted arrow protruding from her back. Diana tried to move towards him, but realized that she was an observer only here, unable to do other than observe. He inched his way across the deck towards the mainmast, to which a large runestone was secured with rope. As he moved painfully onward, another arrow struck him, pinning his left arm to the deck. He reached out with his right hand. The tip of his right index finger just reached the stone. It glowed a golden hue, shining warmly. The old man's face brightened as if he was being filled with inner strength. With a look of resolution, he stood, breaking off the arrow in his hand as he did so. He was knocked to his feet as an enemy ship rammed the elven craft. Men jumped from their ship and onboard the elven craft. With defiance in his eyes, the old man struggled to his feet and raised his right hand. A pale blue aura surrounded him and grew quickly more intense. The enemies shielded their eyes from the piercing light. The man uttered, "Dai phrens karuna!" Energy arced from his hands, enveloping the stone. A sphere of blue surrounded the stone, still attatched to the mainmast. It turned less and less transparent, changing to the ebony of coals. The man slumped to the ground, spent. Three arrows pierced his back, and he slumped to the deck.

The mainmast began to teeter back and forth and fell, apparently sheared off where the top of the sphere ended, smashing down on one of the old man's assailants. Another ship rammed the elven vessel, sending the deck veering. The black sphere rolled across the deck and crashed through the deck railing and into space.

Diana's vision cleared enough to feel both worlds and times simultaneously. She felt as if in the presence of another being, the old man! She felt him say to her mind, "Open it, and it is yours." His kindly face appeared to her and smiled, as if a burden was lifted from his mind. His face faded from her view and a hand appeared, tracing out a pattern upon the sphere, leaving a trail of glowing silver lines. "Follow them with your own hand, and you will recieve my gift," he offered. Hesitantly, Diana reached out her feminine hands after he had finished. He reached out her forefinger and retraced the path of the lines. She thought she heard the sound as a cracking eggshell. The black sphere faded away, leaving before her the runestone lashed to the broken off mast.

This would be the first of the baubles that Diana would open, each time she experiences the creation of the sphere. Each time it had a purpose for being saved for this time. Many that she attempted to open she could not, feeling that the one who created it wished it undisturbed for more time.

Diana is the only person on Jera that has ever opened a bauble. Why this talent rests within her, she can only suspect, but she gets the feeling that it has something to do with her role in her former life, when all spirits were brother and sister. She wanders Jera to know her purpose and at the bidding of mages that reach from the past, letting their influence be felt one last time. It is always spiritual in nature, and always makes her more aware of the currents of thoughts and feelings that she is discovering is the timeless thing the punks call the flow.