A dark skinned being stands here, tentacles hanging limply from its face, twitching occasionally at nearby sounds. Eyes of pure white stare unblinking out from its ancient skin, which is dark in the places it is unsullied by deep scars. There are many scars across the visible places of its bodies, particularly about the place where its wrists should be. Closer examination show there are holes, as if it were pierced by something along its arms. Its bearing is proud, with an erect posture as it walks stiffly by. There is a smell, that follows it, of death and decay.