The inhabitants of the unreasonably pretty city are concerned. They confirm with one another that, yep, appeared out of nowhere, and are more concerned. Soon all of the people around who weren't in uniform (there weren't many to start with) are standing a reasonable distance off (but not going home, they were near when it happened and it's a necessary precaution).

People in uniform approach the unconscious person.

That's sure an unconscious person with blood and soot all over him! He doesn't seem injured, so it's probably not his blood.

...huh.

Someone carefully sketches the blood and soot. 

Someone else holds a piece of metal to their eyes and frowns at him and at the surrounding area and says he's probably not a Maia. 

Traffic gets peaceably redirected and arrangements get shuffled and they wait for him to wake.

He wakes up! He looks around.

Unreasonably pretty city. It has the bit of a feel of a fortress to it - or maybe concept art of a fortress, a bit too surreal and clean and tidy and artsy to be a real fortress. High walls in the distance and narrow windows and thick walls and wide avenues with chokepoints and gates, and also exuberant flower gardens and elaborate woodworking. And someone must have, like, handcarved these cobblestones into excessively pretty patterns.

Huh. Okay. The place is inhabited, which is not really ideal, but he's alive and proof of concept! They're not going to speak either language he speaks. He's lucky they have things like cobblestones and flowers. ...and that they didn't decide to kill him in his sleep for suddenly appearing in their fortress, that would have been an interesting way to fail. He attempts to look nonthreatening as he sits up. He feels vaguely bad about getting cow blood and ash on the pretty cobblestones.

There are tall uniformed people who were apparently keeping a bit of distance. One of them closes it, warily. They're humanoid. Awfully tall. Very pretty. He asks a question in a few different languages.

"Sorry," he says, "I don't know the languages."

Where are you from?

Okay that's convenient and disturbing aaaaaah. "Gatesnest."

Do you know how you arrived here?

"Magic."

So you did so deliberately? Were you targeting this city?

"I didn't aim for this city. I was attempting to find another world but I didn't have very specific expectations about what they'd be like."

(Prince Curufin confirms he's from a human society not yet in contact with the Noldor, at minimum.)

Can you return the way you came?

"With a lot of prep work, yes."

It is an honor to meet the people of Gatesnest, then.

"Thanks. Uh, are you reading my mind."

Yes. 

"I would rather you did not do that."

I understand. You landed in the middle of a war. Can you think of some alternative reassurance that you and your magic do not endanger our people?

"I apologize for landing in the middle of your war. I have no intention of harming you; I was looking for an uninhabited world and will still probably attempt to find one at some point. Can you stop reading my mind now."

Certainly. In that case, can we offer you accommodations until we can find someone to learn a language? You can nod your head for 'yes'.

Nod.

They start walking.