They're certainly somewhere else, near the edge of where woods give way to open plain. Mountains rise a ways before them, slopes turned a dark blueish purple by the distance. The forest is odd, trees dead and twisted into unnatural shapes, choked with thorns, and the grass of the plain is long dead, dry and brittle. 

There's a small group standing there, in a recess near the edge. It looks like this is their camp; all three - four, if you count the enormous silver wolf, easily larger than a horse - spring to their feet, hands going to weapons.

One, a man clad in shining plate with a white-and-gold tabard, decorated with a stylized sun on the front, holds up his hand, then asks something in a sharp tone. He's blond, not wearing a helmet, and small horns disrupt his hairline. His dark eyes have a hint of red to them, and his skin seems more gold-toned than is normal for a human. His ears, along with those of his two companions, are noticeably pointed. His fingers are just a hair too long, his features a tad too perfect.

"Strange magic! Back off! Ghost, try and raise someone."

The trio, with their drab uniforms and big metal mounts festooned with probably-weapons, zips up into the air and a healthy distance away rather quickly.

"-Nothin' on any band 'cept our intercom."

"You said they're magic, Cat? They're men. And no radio- And this place looks like the Neuroi blight already got to it. We're obviously not where we're supposed to be."

"Sun's wrong too. Wrong latitude, wrong time zone. We're lost, boss."

"Fantastic. Keep an eye out for Neuroi anyway. We probably spooked the locals. They look like they've never heard of the war, like old Knights."

She peers at them again, trying to get a feel for the magic - the exceedingly weird magic, of which there is kind of a lot. The giant wolf is magic, but she could have guessed that. That armor is magic and the people are also magic - probably. It's hard to tell.

The three converse among each other for a bit, then the wolf looks over at the newcomers.

'Hello,' comes a voice in their minds, smooth, feminine, and deep. 'I am Raena. These are my sibling Tess and our friends, Lirhan and Emes.' With the words comes information - Tess is the one with light brown skin and silver hair, Lirhan the man who first talked to them, Emes a blonde woman dressed in fine chain with a tabard also bearing a stylized sun, though a different one from Lirhan.

-Okay, telepathy, she has ever encountered a witch who uses telepathy before.

"We're gonna be cautious, you two."

I'm Witch Second Class Nylund, with me are Witch Third Class Smith - the dark skinned one - and Witch Third Class Chavel - the blonde one - We are part of the 37th air wing, Strike Witches. We weren't supposed to end up here - where are we?

(Aaaah turn it off turn it off-) The only visible sign of her distress is a tightening of her grip, though.

The third member stays mentally silent.

Just to the one who responded: 'You are at the edge of the Blight nearest Ticceosia. I am unfamiliar with 'witches'.'

Ticceosia... Ticceosea... Is that in Karlsland? The Low Countries? Maybe the Balkans? It does sound vaguely Danish... But not familiar at all.

(The mental map leaking through is totally unfamiliar.)

Well, we are unfamiliar with what you all seem to be. Are you familiar with Neuroi?

(Flying monsters, big as a house or bigger, matte black with shiny red hexagons, fast, hated-)

'No. Though they look like they are not of this plane; I have seen similar creatures from the Plane of Fire.'

...Planes?

'...The planes that make up the multiverse. The Material Planes, the Shadow Planes, the Ethereal Plane, the Astral Plane, the Elemental Planes, the Energy Planes, the Outer Planes, and the Outer Sphere. The worlds beyond this one. Do your people call them something else?'

Unless you mean other planets, no. We only see the material - and only one material. Our teleporter may have sent us much further afield than we expected - do you not recognize the planet?

She holds the shape of the world in her mind: A truly colossal ball of rock with a thin skin of water and air, huge stretches of land looking barely a finger wide from this distance, continents seeming like one could hold them in one's hand...

'...No, that isn't one of the planes known to me, though I'm not classically educated...' She bounces the image to her companions, who don't recognize it, either. 'And the ones I'd expect to know about it don't, either.' 

So

1. They're lost with no contact and probably no resupply available in a world with at least two or three kinds of strange magic.
2. They don't know anything about the locals except that telepathy is a thing and this lot didn't attack them on sight.
3. They probably really need to reserve mana for emergencies, which means not flying in circles all day.

She has a quick conversation with the other two before asking, Do you have a map of this area? Since we're clearly not going home today, I want to find us a good place to camp.

The wolf looks over to her sibling, who nods and produced a map. It shows the mountains to their west, a few scattered settlements - some with notes written over them - and a river to the east. 

'This area is rather dangerous; I'm not sure how much context you need to understand how much, and whether it's a threat to your group, but it's the Blight. Plants are withered and animate, the very ground is poisoned, animals and people have returned as undead. The nearest safe haven is Hellean, which is a small border town several day's travel away by foot.' There's a quick telepathic conversation they're not privy to, then: 'You can stay with our group until you have your bearings. Lirhan and Emes are also authorized to make official contact with your world, and would be interested in doing such.'

Several days by foot isn't much to us. Also, we're soldiers, not diplomats. I can tell you a lot about what the folks back home would probably want, but I definitely can't agree to anything much bigger than shooting at something for you. So the Blight is that burnt-smelling background magic, huh?

'Yes. We don't know what creates it, yet, and are trying to find out. And hopefully end it. It's already swallowed one large and several smaller nations.'

Quite troublesome. The Neuroi have destroyed Ostmark, half a dozen small nations, and large portions of Karlsland, Venetia, Turkey, and Orussia. It's now a worldwide fight against them.

'Perhaps our planes could help one another.'

I wouldn't know where to start, but perhaps. Will we have to keep doing - this - to understand each other? I don't think we'll share any languages...

'Tomorrow Emes will be able to get a spell for languages. She doesn't have it prepared today.'

Oh, huh. Our magic doesn't work like that. We can do certain things, but they all cost mana, and our mana is the finite resource.