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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

"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."

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

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.

'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.'

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

Even at the best of times, goblins and alchemy don't mix well...