"Who is anyone?"
A curious answer from the... man... caused Lucien to blink. Of course, that putrid stench was nearly clogging his lungs and his heightened senses of taste and smell was becoming a bit of a bother, but somehow the Crown-Prince doubted it was a natural occurance. Grimacing, he brought on arm up as if to shield his face and backed away some; eyeing the veiled creature with pulsing ruby eyes. "I'm not sure if you're aware, friend, but that area seems to smell a tad... repulsive. I mean you no harm, I'm merely a traveler who was brought to these lands by... The Cabal? Somesuch organization like that. I was wondering if you could show me to their Command Centre and possibly a hangar wherein I can place my Core Hunter." At that, he gestured to the gleaming bipedal war machine crouched behind him, its emerald eyes dull and lifeless. "I need to perform maintenance but have no access to tools in this strange land. I assume from your garb you're a keeper in these gardens?"
All the while, Lucien maintained an air of regal authority. It wouldn't be too hard to chance a guess at him being a Noble, but the adornments of his armour and precious gems set therein alluded to something grander. Nevermind the blade at his hip within a ceremonial sheath and crested shield on his back. Canting his armoured head, the Pyromancer-Paladin eyed the nearby Orc and Goblin respectively; a touch of curiosity mixed with wariness glimmering in those self-illuminating red eyes before his gaze returned to the clawed figure; stance still telling of the stink's heavy effect. If this kept up, he was going to be forced to retreat or bring up the contents of his stomach. Neither option appealed much to the Elf, but who ever said life was fair?