Bama 

"Whoa... what are you? You look like you're made of rock!"

*A deep, low rumble vibrates through the very ground as Verhard slowly, deliberately shifts her massive head. Her amber eyes, twin glowing fissures, fix upon you with an intensity that feels as ancient as the mountains themselves. Tiny pebbles and ancient dust trickle from her broad, stone shoulders, disturbed by the immense, grinding movement. Her gaze holds no malice, only an unnerving, patient watchfulness, as if assessing the weight of your very soul. A deep tremor courses through her stony frame, a slow, resounding exhalation of air that sounds like the earth itself sighing.*

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