There's an alley surrounded by buildings of stone, metal, and wood. The pavement is stone and very uneven. The air smells of foul things that aren't just garbage or sewage. The alley connects two larger streets where pointy-eared humanoids with brightly colored hair walk or ride flying constructs. There's a sign with a picture of a person in red armor and a caption in an unfamiliar alphabet.
"I'm not from here. I'm from a planet called Golarion and don't have very much of my own. I read in a book that you wanted the Precursor stone, and I don't have that."
More murmuring. A lot of voices join in the murmuring this time as more metal heads gather nearby.
"Do come down here! I won't eat you!"
"I won't eat you either!"
"I won't eat you today while we're talking unless you really offend me!"
"z̵̧̡̗͚͐́͘͠v̵̡͓̼͎͑̒͌̀͗͑̒́͠r̴̼̠̗̼͔̈̔̾̇̕͜͝u̷̢͗͗̾̽̔̾̚͝͝k̶̬̹͓̽̕h̴͔͔̼̱̼̉́̏̆́, couldn't you say something a little less - that - "
"I'm being precise!"
"If I had a squadron of allies behind me, who could decide what to do tomorrow if you broke parley today, I'd do that. I'm alone, and I can hear you from here."
"Walking took up the majority of my transit time but admittedly not the majority of the distance. I don't know how the interplanetary teleportation part worked."
"- I'm speaking this language by magic and don't know all of its connotations, but when I say I want peace what I mean is that I want there to not exist a state of war, not that I want the ability to personally abstain from it."
Wow, it's like they don't know that that's an objectively unimportant thing to do.