Sure, that can be next on his agenda.

The shop is a little north of the port, where they are now. Still in the red zone. The guy would like too see just how many communicators he can get Blai to fix in exchange for letting Blai take whichever one Blai likes best afterward.

"It takes me ten minutes for each one, and I don't want to stay here for very long. Does three work for you?"

"Sure."

Blai would actually love to sit here mending shit all day but it is not progress. He sits there for half an hour, mending three communicators, and then takes one that will fit nicely in his pocket and doesn't have too many buttons.

Shop guy will throw in a free very basic lesson on how to use it before he leaves.

That is kind of him.

Back to the questgiving tavern.

Kind of a lot of people have decided to congregate at the Hip Hog at this specific normally-off-peak time and the bartender, who is slightly swamped, offers him a free drink. His coworker has left.

He will take a free nonalcoholic drink. Is there an obvious reason for it to be so crowded?

Well, a large fraction of the people present are now staring at him, several conversations go quiet when he arrives, and someone tries inviting him to go hunt metal heads together.

"...no thank you, hunting people without really thoroughly exhausting my other options is against my religion."

"What kinda dumb religion doesn't let you hunt metal heads? The Precursors hate 'em as much as the rest of us, right?"

"That is not my religion. I'm a cleric of Iomedae. She's the goddess of victory over Evil, but I haven't verified and do not belong to a command structure which has verified that the metal heads are Evil enough to be indiscriminately targeted."

"What rock d'you live under? They eat people!"

"I'm from another planet."

"You'd have to be not to know about the metal heads, I guess!" the person wanting to hunt metal heads says with notable skepticism.

"Which planet?" someone else asks.

"It's called Golarion."

The person who asked what planet it was makes a face like they've gotten exactly what they asked for and should have asked for something else.

The other person says, "Look, wanna make a bet? We go for a nice safe stroll along the beach, see if I'm right and we get attacked, loser owes ten orbs?"

"I don't actually have any orbs."

This just gets him laughed at.

What humorous people these are.

"You could agree to owe him and pay him back as soon as you can," someone suggests.

"I would have to take that very seriously if I did agree to it and there's enough going on that I'm not sure it's wise to risk adding another obligation needlessly."

"You just know you’d lose," the person, who absolutely meant the suggestion in the Asmodean way, says, shaking their head.

"I could, certainly. In which case we'd have a problem where we were attacked by metal heads and that's not what I prepared spells for this morning."