Sounds interesting! Some Dwellin would probably want to help.

An Amentan could go touch their local Well if they wanted, to see if anything happens.

The Amentans confer among themselves and select a volunteer, one of the greys.

Well, this way, it's in the village.

Two locals assign themselves as guides and start jogging off. Rather quickly. 

The grey can keep up!

They have to work for it, Dwellin have long strides.

Here is a small iron age village with a short wooden palisade. The gates are wide open and the main street is cobblestone. All the huts look, perhaps surprisingly, well made, neat and tidy.

There's a sort of little park in the center, with a tall tree that has very pale bark and a rainbow of leaf colors. His guides tell the curious onlookers that the alien is going to see what the Well does for them.

It's good it's neat and tidy!

The grey approaches the tree and pinches a leaf between her fingers.

Nothing seems to happen. The blue leaf feels a bit rough, but that's it. It will come off easily if she pulls.

The guides reach for leaves of their own, and both - shift their posture, look distracted for a moment.

She holds on for a bit in case it just takes a while the first time, but eventually gives up and shakes her head.

"That means no, right?"

"I think so. I didn't catch much of it."

The first one head-jerk-shrugs and unceremoniously breaks off a smallish twig with mostly blue leaves, proferring it.

"Science experiment," in the Amentan language.

She accepts it.

"Let's go back then."

"Wait, if their chief isn't here-"

"Jikka..."

"No, mrr, blue here. Want to fight?"

She's a little torn but shakes her head. "Blue find out."

Dwellin use a dissapointed sigh the same way as Amentans do apparently.

The other one laughs. "Told you so."

"Go shuttle." And they can go back.

They go back to the shuttle. The grey reports on these events to the blue.

The blue, after some conference with a green, decides it is okay if one or two greys want to nonlethally spar with the locals.

The Dwellin have these leather foot covers to make kicks less lethal! They decide to have a tiny lottery to pick out their fighters since so many want to. Nobody goes to fetch the one who stomped off earlier. 

The Amentans brought weapons but not sparring-for-fun weapons, so they can just try this unarmed?

Sure, that's easiest. They draw out a little circular arena in the dirt.

What are the usual rules?

Wear claw guards, to first blood or yield, no eye or crotch shots? If it were a serious match it'd be to incapacitation or yield and anything goes.

Okay! Usually the grey would want a mouth guard for her teeth but she didn't pack one, so maybe don't sock her in the jaw too hard.

Right!!!

The winner of the mini-lottery is Tarin, and appears to be the alien equivalent of a 4-year-old, a bit short and generally smaller. They're grinning (which sort of looks like the expression a happy dog makes???) as they step into the ring. Their compatriots cheer them on. Someone warns the grey not to get complacent, Tarin was a soldier in a past life!

She was a soldier in this life! Admittedly that tends to involve very little hand to hand.

She circles him slowly.

Tarin holds almost perfectly still, then launches headlong into motion with as fast a series of feints and strikes as he can manage. 

He's fast. And startlingly strong for his size. And not hesitating at all.

He can beat her pretty quick, though she's slippery the first couple times he gets a hold of her. She's pretty good natured about the loss, wants to know if her crew got that on video. (They did.)

"That was fun! Thanks for the spar!" Tarin agrees. (He then goes and brags and poses for his compatriots.)

Suusvu the prospective metal-buyer wants to know what video is?