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.

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

'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.'

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

'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

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

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.

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

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

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...