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

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

'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

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

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 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.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.