They're at least not attacking him, and he pushes his feelings away and tries to keep himself calm. Getting angry and taking it out on one person isn't going to fix his homeland's problems.

"This is a level on a large ship - similar to a boat, but much more massive. It has legs and is walking in a straight line through a wasteland. Over mountains, under what used to be seas... it doesn't stop. There's a barrier that keeps us safe. There's also a lot of plant growth, though it hasn't seemed to reach this level. None of us recognize this world, either by landmarks or stars."

"As for why we are here, no one knows. The ship itself doesn't know - it has some sort of intelligence and can speak, though we've not heard it on this level yet. We've all just woken up on the ship, usually with the feeling of blood running down us." And... should he say? ... Probably. "It's also possible to die here and come back but it's apparently not pleasant. But I would imagine a warrior like you would know well enough to not do that."

He folds his arms with a slight clank and looks at them seriously. "My name is Fridtjof Djt-bidit. Everyone here uses my forename, I don't expect people to know how to pronounce any of it properly. And you?" He's faintly aware of the Garlean naming conventions, so this will be enlightening...