They're in... a building? Made of stone? No, stone and wood? 

There's a bunch of people around, wearing fragments of metal and leather armor and otherwise not much, and brandishing knives, though mostly up rather than in the team's direction. Most of them seem to have fairly fresh blood painted like tattoos. They're chanting, something bloodthirsty and repetitive (there's an eight-syllable pattern) that they, unusually, can't understand at all.

Oh, also the guy right at the center of the chanting men collapses with even fresher blood just as they show up, and the cultists turn around (still chanting) to face an opposite wall, from whence there are really loud gunshots.

Gun shots are bad. So are knives and blood. "Cover." He states quietly but firmly. Not willing to yell and draw attention. He tries to find some himself if there is any.

The rest of the team

follows

suit.

It looks like when this isn't a weird not-Stargate site it's a sand pit for a fighting ring, though the stands are empty. But there are some heavy wood tables with blood-red tablecloths on them.

They probably don't want to look under the tablecloths. At least it's recent enough that the smell won't draw their attention.

There are three men in black fur cloaks over chain, carrying recognizable primitive firearms; looks like a blunderbuss, pistols, and a couple double-barreled muskets.

Surprise and black powder, and good enough timing not to be fighting bloodletters, is carrying the day fairly quickly, and the man in the lead is looking toward where they came in. But he still has enemies to kill, and they're going to need to do the rest by hand, so they have a few moments.

Scant cover is still something so the team retreats to the stands. "Weapons tight, we don't know what's happening but hopefully this new group is friendlier than the last one looked."

"That is not a normal gate."

"Thanks Rodney. I did notice. It's just not my top priority at the moment."

And in fact the portal is disappearing; it looks like it was failing slightly the moment they got through, and is rapidly falling apart now that the chant is disrupted by bloody war cries and chanter existence failure.

The intruders don't make any attempt to take prisoners, and it's not long before the fight's over. One of the backup men climbs up into the seating to look for something (stragglers?), and the other regroups behind the leader, and mutters something, gesturing to his pistol.

"Whatever they are, they're not Khornate," he replies quietly, "Cover me."

He draws a still-loaded pistol with one hand and a large, engraved gold coin with the other.

"Chekist! Hands up, don't touch any weapons!"

Sheppard lets his gun fall to rest on it's shoulder strap and raises his hands before standing up. "I don't know what that is we're not exactly from around here." He speaks their language but with a strange and unfamiliar accent.

The rest of the team remains in cover.

And is wearing strange and unfamiliar equipment that distinctly looks fit like armor, the thing he dropped looked like a very strange gun...

And, while he absolutely will not admit to knowing this, there is absolutely no movement of the Winds around them. Less than for a normal human thinking, even.

"...It means I am an enforcer of the law," he says ultimately, "The four of you go stand against that other wall away from the ritual site. Any act by Chaos requires careful handling."

He lowers his pistol slightly, more symbolically than practically.

"Alright, we can do that."

He goes over there and his team follows. Their hands are kept away from anything that looks like a weapon but not so far away they couldn't reach them in a pinch.

"Vitaly, abandon the stands for the moment. Fetch the Lady."

The third man abandons his search and swings over a railing toward the doorway.

"Do you understand what was occurring when you appeared?", he asks. His pistol is now pointed at the ground, but he hasn't taken his finger away from the trigger, and the other man is watching warily and reloading his own pistol.

"We could tell it was some sort of gateway since we came through it and the blood generally indicates bad news but beyond that no."

"They were summoning daemons of the Bloody God. You are not that; you have gone entirely too long without attempting bloody violence. But that is not the only kind of daemon. ...Who do you believe yourselves to be?"

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard of the Atlantis expedition. With me is Dr. McKay, Teyla and Ronon."

"Military? What king?"

"The Atlantis expedition is a collaborative endeavor by a number of groups. My rank is from a country that calls itself the United States but it's a democracy not a monarchy."

"You don't sound Tilean. Well, it's novel, I'll give it that. Where were you before you showed up in the interrupted summoning?"

"We were going through a rather different gateway to get back to our base under enemy fire but something went wrong and the passage changed color and we found ourselves here."

"Hmm... I am inclined to think you are genuine humans. But the Deceiver is good at his title, so I do not, actually, have the authority to let you live. Fortunately for you, I do have the authority to keep you under guard while I bring experts to check further. You may ask questions while we wait."

"We could take them," mutters Ronon perhaps too quietly to be heard.

Sheppard shushes Ronon with a gesture. "Well that's a concerning thing to say. I don't know who this deceiver might be but I take threats to my team's lives pretty seriously."