"What is?" asks an old man, seated in such a way as to... hold about as much size as a normal human frame can. "The play?"

Wearing robes, gloves, and a mane of graying, whitened hair that was too long, and looked to have never been styled before in his life. He slid his eyes to the other man, a large scar bifurcated his face -- olive green, and seemed to center across his nose. His lips curled, into something that was close to an unassuming smile.

"Or something else?"