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

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

A legendary relic, suited to base a campaign around, with the power of Creation crystallized in a single milky seed...

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

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

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.

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

'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

Adapted to the northern tundra, these hardy little insects dwell among the Fireleaf ferns...

"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...

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.

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

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...

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.

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

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

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