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...

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.

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

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

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.

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

A well-meaning mage has banished darkness from the area, not realizing the downsides of this event.

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

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

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

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

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...

Driven by the need to keep his descendants fed, Daniel Andersson is one of the more peculiar undead - and gods - one might ever come across.

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

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

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

'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

Gnomes, fascinated with magic, tried to find a way to safely access it, and instead wound up addicted in the deadliest way.

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