"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."

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

'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.'

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

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...

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

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