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

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

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

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

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

A set of pale white panpipes, etched with images of the winter storms...

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

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

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...

"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."

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

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

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

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

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

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.

Carved to bring glory to the Patient One, the silent and frigid Abomination that holds dominion over the frozen wastes, the Glacier's Fist is heralded as a deadly weapon, but the true purpose of it is a much more subtle thing.

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

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

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.