The races of Kuramen are a strange lot, descending down a long lineage from the First Race; prone to dramatic evolutions and born to a world divided, each does the best it can to survive.

Sometimes, you just need to stash something away - some spare cash, a holdout weapon, your gender...

Thaumatechnology - in a world where straight magic has an unnerving tendency to get the user killed, either by magical catastrophe or by being lynched by an upset mob, this is a much safer form of magical use... Even if it does occasionally explode.

Some people have neither good nor bad luck; they instead have a certain whimsy of fate attached to them, placing them at the center of bizarre events whether they wish it or not. Joseph Random is one such individual...

"It was as if, for a heartbeat, the world awoke, and lashed out in rage at those who disturbed it."

A mystic, tired of being left behind by his more swifted-footed companions, devised this as a simple solution.

Slain by thirst and heat, these sad souls seek moisture - any moisture - to quench their eternal, burning thirst.

The dead, imbued with the divine essence of magic, walk again, ever hungry for the missing spark of a living soul.

Sturdy goggles with thick green lenses, and wires that lead to a battery of thaumic energy.

The leftover remnants of Mind can sometimes cling to existence when the Body fails and the Spirit departs...

Gnomes, fascinated with magic, tried to find a way to safely access it, and instead wound up addicted in the deadliest way.

Once an outcast spirit of the cold, now the malevolent lord of a realm of winter unending...

Odd little devices, almost ubiquitous in any city which relies on thaumatechnology.

Once merely a minor Realm of an ambitious Prince of the Nether, the Gloom has been conquered and now lies ruled by Winter's cruel grip.

Driven by the need to keep his descendants fed, Daniel Andersson is one of the more peculiar undead - and gods - one might ever come across.

This odd, fern-like plant taps into the power of fire to protect itself and prosper amid the cold northern tundra...

Born half in legend, half in cold science, Lightning's Voice is a carrier of divine wrath in an age without faith.

At first appearing to be glass, this ring of enchanted ice is a boon to those in wintery climes...

A small silver lantern, at whose heart there burns a shard of ice.

A potion that contains the essence of Courage... In a way.