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

Once an outcast spirit of the cold, now the malevolent lord of a realm of winter unending...

An ocean of fine silt, shot through with pillars and islands of ancient stone, this realm would be a thing of harsh beauty were it not for the utterly lifeless nature of it.

'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.'

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

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

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

A crossbow bolt crafted from the deepest shadows, which infects those struck with a terrible spiritual corruption.

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.

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.

At first appearing to be glass, this ring of enchanted ice is a boon to those in wintery climes...

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

'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

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

"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."

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

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

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

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

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