The simplest way to tell if someone is a Thaumatech Engineer is often to ask to see his kit bag...

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.

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

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

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

Most weapons of legend are made in the days of legend; Nightfall is an exception, birthed in violence and vengeance.

"My god, what is that?"
"Orcweed, sir. Never need a wall with this growing."

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

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.

'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.'

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

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

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

Pitiable creatures, wandering forever in search of that denied them, unable to rest even as they crumble away to little more than crawling wrecks of bones.

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

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

Forged from the light of the first dawn, of the world, it remains radiant even now, long ages after...

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

A well-meaning mage has banished darkness from the area, not realizing the downsides of this event.

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