An ocean of fine silt, shot through with pillars and islands of ancient stone, this realm would be a thing of harsh beauty were it not for the utterly lifeless nature of it.

'See that one, with the burn scars and dark veins? Don't stick too close; he shoots fireblood before engagements. Keeps friends and foes alike at bay, it does.'

But, O Fellow Denizens of the Citadel, I ask this - what other kinds of unique elements can you come up with?

Squares of colorful cloth, often enchanted with minor magics to better serve the owner - but, first and foremost, it is merely a kerchief.

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.

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

The product of centuries of slow, careful, painstaking work, a testament to the Old Ways and the power of Thaumaturgy, the Cathedral of Light is known of across the whole of Kuramen.

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

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

Carved to bring glory to the Patient One, the silent and frigid Abomination that holds dominion over the frozen wastes, the Glacier's Fist is heralded as a deadly weapon, but the true purpose of it is a much more subtle thing.

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

A curious dagger, with a blade stained by ancient gore; it has seen many dark deeds, yet goes unsuspected as more than some old piece of junk.

The dead, when buried without last rites, often find it impossible to rest easy...

'It was just after nightfall when it came; a horrible, rotten mass of bone and flesh, with a voice that was like a thousand screams braided together. I only survived because I ran - I ran and I've never stopped running, because I know it's after me. Me, and everyone else who was there when the city of Vesta was slaughtered.' -Hans, Former Captain turned nomad

Prized for the metallic sheen of the foliage, this peculiar plant dwells on the banks of mountain rivers, relying on heavy metals and photoelectric power to spread itself

Descended from humanity, the orcs of Kuramen are a far cry from the bloodthirsty savages of many other worlds.

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

In the deep of night, even the most jaded of criminals will look over their shoulders for the telltale scarlet glow of the steamwalkers.

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

A set of pale white panpipes, etched with images of the winter storms...