All too often, the procedures of Thaumatechnologyy result in fallout and pollution tainting the environment. Those responsible tend to sweep this aside, happily pointing out the marvelous benefits that the fusion of thaumaturgy and technology can bring, with far fewer dangers than the hiring of a Mage will bring with it. Opponents point out the dangers the pollution brings to those who have to suffer it, from unexpected mutations in the young, to the very real risk of a Whisp overfeeding on the mess and exploding in an even more disastrous fashion.
Few, however, realize the full extent of the danger that such thaumaturgic pollution can bring when unleashed into the world at large. Much as the coal-fired steam engines that drive thaumatechnology affects the weather to create thick fogs and acidic rains, so too does thaumaturgic fallout twist the weather, creating environmental hazards that make the effects of the coal seem mild by comparison, from the awesome and terrible alien beauty of an inversion front to the often deadly necrotic winds.
There are several relatively well-known forms of Thaumic Weather, each one arising from a particular interplay of natural climate effects and the thaumically-charged pollution; these are most common in regions downwind of cities which have embraced industrial thaumatechnology. One such is the plains where the Silver River empties out, several leagues from the city limits of the city of Tarralein; the pollution carried in the river mixes into the open plains, giving rise to storm fronts charged with weird arcane energies and twisting the local environment in wildly unnatural ways.
Inversion Fronts are perhaps the most common, spectacular, and eerily terrifying forms of thaumic weather; in these storms, everything seems normal as the clouds roll along, although astute observer will note that they seem to ignore prevailing winds entirely. It is not until the storm breaks that the nature of the inversion front becomes clear, as countless tiny sparks pour from the clouds like raindrops, while shafts of water slash down from the skies with incredible force, the sound of their passage much like the boom of thunder.
Necrotic Winds arise in areas polluted most heavily by processes which either rely on the dead or on captive spirits, the charnel energies of the tainted region infusing the winds that blow across them. The only reliable warning of the approach of a necrotic wind is a faint darkening of the sky, and, from higher ground, the abrupt appearance of large swathes dying plants as the wind approaches. A necrotic wind is a thing tainted with death and decay, able to kill most small plants and animals as it blows over them, leaving behind little but foul mulch and half-rotted corpses. Even larger plants and creatures are at risk, as the wind will infuse portions of their frame with the dread energy it carries, causing branches to wither away and meat to slough from the bones.