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

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

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

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

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

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 simplest way to tell if someone is a Thaumatech Engineer is often to ask to see his kit bag...

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

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

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.

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.

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

"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."

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

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

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

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...