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.

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

'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.

"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."

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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.

'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

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

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

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

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

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