Yep, looks pretty steppe-like. In the distance, a a few large buildings, each with a collection of smaller constructions, stand by the waterside. A few tall metal towers jut up from the land, incongruous with the rest of the scene.

The farmer looks through, but does not enter, the portal. He heads for town to contact the authorities. An hour or two later, several helicopters arrive on the scene and a few dozen people climb out to inspect the portal.

Nobody appears to notice their arrival. 

After spending several more minutes looking around, taking measurements, four of them step through the portal and walk towards the buildings on the other side. They consist of: a middle-aged man in a black collarless suit, two younger men in military fatigues, and an aged woman in cream-colored robes.

Upon their arrival to the nearest cluster, several people will attempt to ask them things! From context, likely a variant of “who are you” or “why are you here.” Upon realizing they speak a different language, they fetch several people who ask similar questions in other languages they will not speak.

The buildings are largely mudbrick and wood. One is notably significantly larger than the others. Several basic canvas tents are set up, with people chatting and playing cards and staring at some sort of glass tablet underneath them. Some people off to the side are playing a game involving running around and attempting to hit each other with long sticks. No children are visible.

Most people are wearing a simple tunic and pants, or a long dress. Most are shades of brown, but a few are shades of greens and reds. The clothing does not appear to correspond with gender. The cream robe and fatigues gets minimal attention, but a few people are openly staring at the the suit, until a (woman?) comes out and shoos them away.

One of the younger men speaks with the locals, attempting to learn their language through pantomime. He introduces himself as Rokaidim. The other three speak little and spend the time looking around, studying the buildings and landscape (to compare it to their side of the portal). The man in the suit speaks into a handheld radio.

The probably-an-administrator tells a few people to do some things, and brings them over to a table set up in the large building, where she introduces herself as Talu Ritula and the man (who is wearing a slightly fancier-than-average dress) as Rian Larutel. Rian writes out a series of symbols on a piece of paper, and spends some time pointing out various objects and writing down the words he gets, while Talu does something on her own glass device. After a few minutes of this, another person brings out a bowl of dried berries, and the Murlocians immediately take some to eat. The pantomime is attempted as well, but Rian and Talu both seem to have some trouble figuring out what concepts it’s trying to indicate.

The delegation follows the woman into the building, although none of them touch the food. Rokaidim focuses on learning whatever language the Murlocians are speaking, while the other members of the delegation offer the canaanite names of whatever objects Rian points to.

Sensible! Both Rian, Talu, and the food-provider look somewhat concerned, and Talu indicates the food, takes some, and makes a questioning noise. 

The man in the suit shakes his head and holds out his palm in what may look like rejection.

Talu nods, and says something to the food-provider, who hurries off and brings back a plate of sliced fish, some sort of bean-based pastry, and a bowl of nuts. Talu carefully eats a small amount of each, and makes another questioning noise.

The delegation declines all food.

After a while, a voice comes from the delegation’s radio, and (after some discussion) the third man in the delegation goes outside and walks back through the portal, returning a few minutes later with portable radio equipment. He starts making his way through the spectrum, trying to see how much radio activity there is.

The murlocians are all very concerned when they all decline food, but do stop trying new ones. Talu tries to talk to the radio in several languages, to see if their own people know any of them.

Someone does walk after him, and upon seeing the portal, freezes, blinks, swears, and starts sprinting back.

There’s a pretty high amount of radio activity! Some music, some talking, some unfamiliar signals.

Do they have signals originating in orbit?

No, nothing originating in orbit.

He continues to collect data for a while. Once he’s gotten most of what he can, he returns the equipment to the other side of the portal and heads back to report his findings.

Meanwhile, inside the building, they’re still trying to figure out how to talk to each other. Rokaidim has learned enough words to say, "mud building" and make an exaggerated face of confusion.

“…Yes?” attempts Rian. “Um, many mud and straw here. Small mud your home?”

"Rock, mix rock, wood. Small mud."

“Huh! Rock-“

His sentence is cut off as the portal-discoverer, still breathing heavily, runs in and starts rapidly speaking to those present. They freeze, blink, ask a few questions, and then Rian turns back to the delegation.

”You from other… uh. Word… From door in air?”

"Yes. Door open this morning."

“Oh! Um. That’s. More homes need to know, not just ours? Oh, is our food not your food? Er, name of your-“ he spreads him arms around, trying to indicate evething - “yes?”

Talu instantly starts rapidly tapping at a glass screen, swearing quietly to herself.

Rokaidim didn’t understand some of those words, but he can try to answer.

"We name Hadarites."

After a comment from the man in the suit, he gestures at the glass object and says, "that what?"

“Screen or tablet? For talking with other people very far away, farther than can be walked easily at all. So most homes will know that a door through air exists, and can debate about it.”

"...need more words."

Rokaidim continues trying to learn their language as fast as he can. After an hour, another man, also dressed in cream-colored robes, walks through the portal. He speaks to Rokaidim for several minutes, then to the Murlocians, asking for more words and making analogies to try to figure out how to talk about more abstract concepts. He seems to be learning the language much more rapidly than Rokaidim was. His name, should they ask, is Imenrala.

Rian’s the best they have at languages, but the tablet lets them have other more naturally talented people learn it and give them translations. Some abstract concepts generally translate better than others, or have different connotations, but the translations get much better.

They call the planet Murlocia, and themselves as a species Murlocians.