[i]The man was almost appalled by this act of barbarism upon the stage. His expression hidden by the cloak's fabric covering his face, hazel eyes were barely made out if anyone had bothered to look. He speed walked over to the young lady confined in the wheelchair, gaining some sort of strength in his legs that allowed him to walk with the staff every few steps now, stopping only beside her. The man took off his hood and facemask, revealing a young man with skin fit for a desert. His eyes had bags underneath, crows feet at the edges. He had no hair on his head save for the full beard, the man's mouth slightly agape as if to say something.[/i] "Excuse me, Miss? May I know what is happening upon that stage?" [i]He asked her in a polite but hoarse, turning his head to look at her. The voice had hints of something richer, like molasses. A handsome voice, if it were not for the hoarseness.[/i]