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

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

Descended from humanity, the orcs of Kuramen are a far cry from the bloodthirsty savages of many other worlds.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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