"Gorgons". The stamping of metal hooves across the ravaged terrain of the Howling Badlands. The glint of bronze scales in a blood-red sunset. The cracked, dilapidated human statuary - that unbearable stench clinging to their forms. Sight beyond mortal sight in those black eyes of theirs. Fireside tales weave the portrait of an o'er-ambitious king, sent nigh-invulnerable beasts of burden by the gods to allow his people to prosper. What horrific betrayal warranted the fall of the Old Kingdoms, however, no one remains sure of. All that we have left is stonework and the braying upon the coarse wind. Instinct: To display power

• Turn flesh to stone with noxious breath
• Perceive incoming danger on multiple planes
• Charge someone