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A blazing gradient that dances with fire.

Black basalt cracked open to rivers of liquid fire, churning with the heat of a molten core.

Cold gunmetal and brushed steel — a severe martial plate won only from the vote crate.

Retro neon vibes from the 80s.

A churning vat of toxic acid bubbles and seethes behind every name.

Crackling electric energy.

Pixel-perfect nostalgia from the golden age of arcade gaming.

Light up the night sky for the 4th of July!

Ember wisps drift through a haunted Halloween dark.

Warm amber light falls like maple leaves on a golden autumn afternoon.

A blazing solar flare sweeps across the void in molten gold and white-hot light.

A salt flat under a film of motionless water, holding the last of the light upside down.

A blizzard at dusk — driving snow with nothing behind it but charcoal and wind.

Deep jungle under a broken canopy — one shaft of green-gold light through the humid dark.

Jewelled light falling through a high window into a dark and enormous nave.

Deep red lacquer and a fall of gold leaf, for luck in the new year.

Sunlight breaking on a shallow pool, with anemones holding on along the rocks.

One orchid in the dark, still wet from the morning.

A monarch wing with the sun behind it, every vein drawn in black.

The inside of a shell, where plain grey turns into every colour at once.

A web strung with dew, catching the last of the moonlight.

Frosted fir, a string of warm lights, and two red baubles.

Red and white pinwheels, straight out of the candy dish.

Fine bubbles climbing through pale gold. Something went well.

You're on fire and everyone knows it.

Strike with the speed of lightning.

Fear the player with this badge.

Now you see me, now you don't.

A pennant planted on a summit nobody had reached — the Season 1 climb, dated forever.

A steel gauntlet thrown down with a crimson cuff — the challenge, made, in Season 2.

The wreath, open at the crown for whoever earns it next.

Dead centre, first try — the arrow still humming.

A plain gunmetal shield, unmarked and unbroken.

Black wings against a full moon, and it has been watching you.

Eighty wingbeats a second and still perfectly in place.

It already knows how this match ends.

Pale green wings that only come out after dark.

Pointed, crooked, and one size fits all.

Double, double. Something green is nearly done.

One red nose, visible from a long way off.

A whole winter, small enough to shake.