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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

A nearly forgotten god of hatred, vengeance, death, and decay, whose priesthood seeks his violent rebirth.

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

"Though they walk as men and grow as weeds, they are neither; the angry dead, feeding the green with the rage until they walk again, yellowing bones bound by the twining green."

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

'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.'

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

The corrupted god of war, felled by the lost god of vengeance to his present pitiable state.