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He quickly readjusts it - but not before you catch a horrifying glimpse of flesh embalmed in barbed wire. Is he some turncoat, some renegade cultist of the Brotherhood of Eankke?
With the hideous grimace of a gashed scar that splits his face asunder, the Shrouded Man stammers apologetically:
- You must... forgive me. It was not meant for your eyes to see. I will not look at things! I will not suffer things to look at me!