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

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

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

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

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.

The product of centuries of slow, careful, painstaking work, a testament to the Old Ways and the power of Thaumaturgy, the Cathedral of Light is known of across the whole of Kuramen.

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

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

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.

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

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

'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

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

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

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

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

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.