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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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.'

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.

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.

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