I can be putty in your hands, or hard as a rock. I come from the earth and can be green, stone, or even bone.

I stand on the podium, but never the peak, And a mantle of green is the fashion I seek. An era was named for my history and might, Though copper and tin had to fuse for my light.

You may use me to whip cream or knead dough, To stir batter or make marshmallows. You may attend me to find others in your field, Or to meet coworkers at your company. What am I?

I never lie about your appearance, which is sometimes my biggest flaw.

Game. Walk. Dash. Skate. Clip. Mother. Card. What do these seven words have in common?