Valma is an elderly Kharbal dwarf woman whose compact frame has the dense, load-bearing sturdiness of a bridge pier. Her copper-brown skin is creased like worked leather around a pair of sharp gray eyes that rarely look at a face when they could be studying its hinges, weight distribution, or hidden supports. Silver-streaked hair is pulled into a severe knot, while her neatly braided beard is interwoven with fine copper wire rings that click softly when she turns her head. She moves with deliberate economy, never wasting a step, yet her hands can become startlingly fast when making an adjustment. Her expression is severe enough to intimidate officials twice her height, but she laughs with an unexpectedly bright, youthful cackle when someone presents an elegant repair. The contradictory impression she leaves is of a person built like an immovable foundation who is nevertheless always listening for the next tremor.