Ancient-looking, yellowed bone, slashed with streak of dry black ichor, forms the core material of this loathsome armor.

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

It is pretty.
Yes it is. A man could get lost in himself there.
Is that a bad thing?
Depends on the man.

'Aye, 'dis here is yer problem, squire. Yer gone and got yerself a Cog Devil infestation in the ol' gear box, haven't ya? Look at the little bugger squirm, eh? Nah, dont be embarrassed, squire. It's better than lice on yer privates, innit? Coz, they're harder to get rid of, they are. And a lot more expensive too..'

Istherm Mild (esq.), licensed steam engine mechanic, overheard advicing one of his customers...

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

In the deep of night, even the most jaded of criminals will look over their shoulders for the telltale scarlet glow of the steamwalkers.

The grinding of gears in the dead of night is a precursor of an unforgiving danger. Survivors remember little, save the smell of metal and death.

11 great statues of lost gods being chipped away by the condemned.

Its intricate knitting defining all description, the hyperdoily is the world's best resting place for cookies.

The Hanset are a sleeping giant of a race. Once the owners of an empire of Alexandrian proportions, they new reside in their hidden sub-tropical home, living the simple lives of tribesmen. Though bereft of metal tools, they have adapted to their forest home and it to them. Though their empire is long gone, they still hold onto the seed of its greatness.

An evaluation of the limited advancement of technology in standard genre fantasy.

"In all my years of research, perhaps the best way I have found to summarize the Hermit of Wither Tor is the name given to him by the inhabitants of the Grassdancer ghettoes. These unfortunates call him, in their own tounge, An´rah Grun´dar Ahr, which roughly translates into He-Who-Speaks-With-His-Fists....."

From "Locastus and beyond", by Darius Moak

Glistening in the light of Acheron, the crystalline structure of the Atrium is a fragment of Earth, carried across the void; a snapshot of green and blue amid the pale tans and reds of Tarterus, a promise and a dream.

A subtle, and effective improvement to the standard gravitic shielding common throughout the Starkin Federation, this device rapidly degrades and destroys energy weapons brought to bear against it.

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.

The dead, imbued with the divine essence of magic, walk again, ever hungry for the missing spark of a living soul.

An arcane substance able to convert kinetic energy directly into matter.

Loathsome creatures born of magic gone hideously awry, the trolls of Kuramen are little more than ever-hungry masses of cancerous tissue.

30 ways to show off wealth

Unique among the sea monsters that infest the oceans of Acqua, this abomination is cursed with a hunger for power that can never be satisfied.