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...

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.

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

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

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

Sometimes, you just need to stash something away - some spare cash, a holdout weapon, your gender...

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.

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

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.

The races of Kuramen are a strange lot, descending down a long lineage from the First Race; prone to dramatic evolutions and born to a world divided, each does the best it can to survive.

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

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

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

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

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...

'See that one, with the burn scars and dark veins? Don't stick too close; he shoots fireblood before engagements. Keeps friends and foes alike at bay, it does.'

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