Bastion: Sulis

Lena Reilly
No pause.  No hesitation.  Lena fears a lot, and make no mistake--getting caught in the unmaking of this world is one of them.  But what helps her is that she can sometimes (not as often as she likes or should, but sometimes) use it the way it should be: to warn, to motivate.  She has a lot of motivation here, and she shouts as she races.
"It's not him!  We have to get to him NOW!"
She doesn't know that last part.  She also doesn't what to do once they get to him.  But that's not even the point.  The point is that she knows that staying behind is the end, and she fights too damn hard in order to end here.
And so she pushes herself, sandals kicked off at this point by the kinetic energy of her legs pumping in time.  Souls pound on hard earth as she rushes at the boy, dodging anything that might be in the was as an obstacle to her and her destination point: the living portal.

Grace
Grace falls to the sand with a whump that feels like it should have been a crack. At least she knows to roll a bit on a rough landing to spread out the force a bit, but it looks about as controlled and graceful a dismount as one performed by a drunken emu.
It's not him! We have to get to him NOW!
Lena's on her feet and running, and so Grace follows, not really understanding the 'it's not him' part. What isn't him? Doesn't matter. Get to him. That's what matters.
She tries to ignore the sight of Rome dissipating into nothingness around them as she chases after Lena, and after a boy standing in red sand. He's surrounded by the dead.
There's some tragedy for you -- being slain right before one's world is deleted. But they're the only ones at peace in this place.

Patience Mason
In any other situation this moment might have fascinated Patience, to behold the unravelling of an entire plane of existence was not something one got to see everyday, and if it weren't for their impending demise, Patience might have taken the time to watch.
But they needed out, they needed to get to the young man on the sands. If they did not...one could only imagine what an unravelling such as this might do to their minds. So Patience ran, ran as fast as she could in the confines of the clothing not at all meant for such activity. Sweat would gather, muscles [even imagined ones] would complain but such things were small in the face of annihilation.
"Are any efficient and adaptable theorems concurrently actualizing within each respective neuro-chemical network associated with out individualized personages in this precise temporal framework for manipulating the trans-planar portal system?"

Demiurge
Distracted as he was by the vision of their very reality being torn apart, the boy on the sand (the one the crowd had called Spartacus) did not immediately comprehend the fact that Lena, Grace and Patience were running toward him. But when he saw their forms hurtling toward him in his peripheral vision, he swung around and put up his sword. He'd just been fighting for his life. Perhaps he thought he would die. Now the sand around him was red with the blood of his friends and combatants.
To have survived so much, only to be confronted with the almost certain possibility that death would yet come - not by sword or spear but by this inescapable force of entropy - was almost heart-breaking in its unfairness.
And now three people from the crowd were hurtling toward him as though he might somehow save them all from this apocalypse. The boy's left arm still hung useless and broken at his side, but his good arm was yet capable of damage, and he shouted a warning to them in a language they could understand.
"Get back, Romans! Or do you want to die with your gladiators?"

Lena Reilly
She likes Patience quite a lot, and she appreciates her way of speaking.  There's something to be said about the joy of translating her sentence structure and definitions into common parlance.  Moments like these--rushing toward an ally who may want to kill them with adrenaline flowing through her like nitrous oxide--is unfortunately not one of those times and she doesn't have a response for the woman because frankly, there isn't time to do the translation.
"We're not Romans, and we need your help to get out of here.  We want to free you," she says, the words coming as fast as she does--because she's not slowing down.  Lena is a woman who lives life on the safe side of things because she has to in order to live.  Having spent a week here in Rome, being able to breathe and be who she might have been if not for a twist of immunological fate--this has allowed her, at least right now, to shed that safety for the sake of a calculated risk.  If he stabs her, so be it, but she's not going to slow for him.
When she gets close enough, she reaches out to him.  "Take my hand, please."  She doesn't push the words on the man mentally, because her Will is nearly exhausted.  She just hopes to Ananda that he'll listen to reason.  And if not...well, she's always wanted to be stabbed.  That's not true, but better stabbed than unmade.

Patience Mason
"This individualized personage is not heritalogically or genealogically disseminated from the gestalt base data of roman stock." She says as she hurtled forward as well, unperterbed by the blade held before her. Could the man named Spartacus kill her? Quite possibly, infact in her mind Patience gave herself a twenty three point three two two percent chance of surviving the next twenty minutes...but that was just how things worked.
She would reach for Grace's hand in that moment, as well as Lena's free hand, hoping that perhaps by association of skin to skin contact that any transdimensional travel would be transferred to the whole group, rather then simply to Lena.
Her gaze was fixed upon Spartacus, an imploring look spread across her features as she caught the surrounding sights of destruction that was unfolding in the stands, and beyond the walls of the Circus Maximus, one way or another, this man was their only hope.

Grace
"Patience, right now I would settle for a theorem called Don't Die," Grace yells back. She hasn't a clue.
'Spartacus' raises his sword just as Grace leaps over the body of a gladiator, and the gesture has her off balance. Her hands fling up in the air -- no weapons.
"We're not Romans! We're--"
She blinks. Oh shit. What do you say? What would make sense? 'We're interdimensional travelers from another reality' just doesn't seem like it would work here.
Lena fixes it by saying the truth in another, better way, but she's still moving onward, courting death by challenging the armed soldier's personal space.
"Lena, be careful," she hisses.
Then, with a scared smile, she addresses 'Spartacus'. "I'm Grace. That's Lena, and this is Patience. We're not here to hurt you," she says, trying to see if a bit of diplomacy might help. We're people with names. Not going to hurt you. We're nice.
She takes Patience's hand when offered, more because she gets the hint that this contact has a purpose behind it than anything.

Demiurge
Perhaps, given a different set of circumstances, the Thracian prisoner might not have been so ready to accept what the three women had to say. But they were watching the world being torn apart. What was even the purpose to fighting any of it, at this point?
And he was exhausted. You could see it in his eyes.
Around them, the storm drew ever closer, tearing up and dismantling everything in its path. The sound of it was terrible. Like some great, yawning abyss. As it neared, the daylight around them dimmed.
The boy hesitated, then looked at the sky and shouted his rage at the Gods. When he was through, he tossed his sword on the ground and reached out to take Lena's hand.
"Atreyu," he said. And that was not a Thracian name. Nor a Roman one, for that matter. "Whatever your plan, you'd better hurry."

Lena Reilly
Atreyu.  Lena looks like she could almost laugh at the name.  She's seen The Neverending Story...the warrior boy on a great quest.  It seems oddly fitting, somehow.  And she can't imagine that this was some accident of naming, the boy that exists here, now while the world is being unmade around him.
"Hello, Atreyu."  She reaches back and grasps Grace's hand, holding tightly.  For as little as she touches people in the real world, she might be making up for it now with how strongly she takes hold of the Adept.  And then she reaches out and takes the boy's hand, and tries to focus on her friends.  "Sid, Kalen, Ian," she says out loud, in the hopes that it signals to the others what she's attempting.  If they have another idea, she'll go with it.

Grace
"Jesus fucking Christ," Grace says, even though Jesus isn't slated to be born for a few hundred years yet. "Atreyu? You don't think we have to hold him in our hand and think of a new world, do you?"
Lena starts chanting the names of their friends, and Grace follows suit. Don't think of a new world, think of the people in it. Although mentally, she adds another word to the list. 'Computer'.
They might just end up stranded here turning to nothing while chanting strange names under a consuming sky. Bet it looks weird. But who cares? It's the end of the world.

Patience Mason
[WP]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10) ( success x 4 )

Patience Mason
Patience takes the hands of her fellows, forming a circle, or perhaps a circle around the man who was called Atreyu. For her however the providence of that name is lost, because unfortunately awesome 90's movies trivia were not apart of Patiences skill set.
In truth she almost laughed at the actions the others took, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and so she joined them, even as her mind whirled in an attempt to discern another possible manner of egress from this dying universe.
"Sid, Kalen, Ian!" She shouted this now, trying to break through the tumultuous cacophony that  was the end of this world.

Lena Reilly
[[Wits+Enimga]]
Dice: 5 d10 TN7 (1, 3, 4, 9, 10) ( success x 2 )

Patience Mason
[Wits No Enigmas]
Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (2, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )

Grace
[Wits + Enigmas!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN7 (2, 3, 4, 6) ( success x 1 ) [WP]

Demiurge
In the midst of all the chaos, the three travelers could be forgiven for forgetting the advice that Maddoc gave them. They formed a chain, each taking the hand of the one beside them, and fanned themselves out in a circle, with Atreyu at the head. The boy grasped Lena's hand firmly within his own, waiting to see what kind of odd witchcraft these three strangers had in store. But then... nothing happened.
And the storm kept getting closer.
And now he looked at them with a sense of dawning panic and said, "Whatever Gods you pray to, I don't think they're going to answer."

Demiurge
North, Maddoc had said. Face North to go toward the center. Each link connected to the four closest worlds. So one had to assume that South would take them backward on the mandala, and East and West to either side.
But they were facing these directions now, and the gate had not opened. Was there something else they had to do?

Lena Reilly
She remembers and then speaks.
"Everyone, turn this way."  She's looking at Atreyu when she says it, making it clear she means him too.
And then she speaks again.  "Tu, was du willst."

Lena Reilly
[[Oh yeah and she turns north]]

Grace
"North! Right! Have to face North!" Grace yells over the noise of panicked Romans and a darkening sun ready to wink out.
"North goes to the center!"
She aligns herself with the others, shifting along with the others' hands held tight.
"Tu, was du willst."

Patience Mason
"Tu, was du willst."
Patience followed suit, her gaze shifting north with the others as the stadium itself began to fly apart, ground into dust by the end of the world. People, even if they were not people of their own universe were dying in their untold numbers and Patience, despite their own goals...vowed to see this right.

Demiurge
Did he know, this boy? Was some instinctive memory buried deep in his head? Or was he really ignorant to his own place in the universe? He moved when Lena shouted her directions, turning to face North (at least, what was left of it,) but he did not seem to understand why they were doing this.
But then the three women uttered those words, and Atreyu blinked as though startled. As though he was recalling something. (Memories, places, lives.) He blinked as he gasped, and the ouroboros (the Auryn) on his chest suddenly lit up. The white snake glowed, and the black snake turned to shadow. And then streaks and tendrils of light struck down like electric current from the sky, weaving between the three of them - linking them together.
Linking them to somewhere else. There was a sensation of being pulled forcibly from their own bodies and flung out into the sky, and then... that darkness.
It was almost violent, this time, the sensation of being reborn. Of waking up on the other side. The world did not drift softly into focus as it had on their entry to Rome. One minute, the world was nothing but a void. The next, they materialized back into their bodies with a visceral snap. And there was the sky, wide and blue and endless, and the wind was rushing past them in tumultuous gusts, buffeting them from side to side as the great best beneath their legs gave a roar and bucked backwards, sweeping its wings in a wide arc.
Lena, Grace and Patience would scarcely have time to comprehend the fact that they'd fallen atop what looked to be a white dragon (or some similar beast) before they found themselves tumbling backwards. Ahead of them, a female rider sat perched atop the beast's shoulders in some kind of saddle, her long brown hair flowing wildly in the wind. She looked just as shocked as they were, and was holding on for dear life as she bent over and gasped.

Lena Reilly
Time, it can be endless in the right circumstances.  It's an immutable thing, elastic and (to some) by no means linear.  As they're pulled away, as the light on Atreyu's chest shines, as all this happens...time seems to slow for Lena.  She looks around the disintegrating world one last time, and she shuts her eyes as she feels them get pulled.
Of course, shutting eyes when you aren't in your body isn't action.  It's intent.  But what are they but creatures of intent made reality, and choosing not to see is a thing no matter what.
And then, like that, they're jerked into their bodies and she's scramgling to hold on.  "WHAT THE FUCK."
Yep, that's all Lena's got.

Lena Reilly
Wits+Ath
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (1, 3, 4, 9) ( success x 1 )

Grace
The only thing that Grace could comprehend was the sensation of being. Not floating exactly, because there was nothing to float in, and nothing to float. There was only her -- an I Am that she held onto until she was again in a more material sense.
Snap, crack, and her oh-so-very-new body slams into another, larger thing.
"Woah! shit!" said the newborn Mage. Fitting first words for what just happened.

[Wits + Athletics!]

Grace
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (3, 5, 7, 10) ( success x 1 )

Patience Mason
Their first transition into this system of worlds had been strange enough, traumatic in its own way. This transition worse by far, not only for the manner in which it took place, but also by the manner of the place they found themselves within.
Here be dragons...
It seemed that the deeper they went, perhaps the more esoteric and unearthly the locale they might find themselves within, as if the mind at the center of this place had allowed itself to roam free, creating stranger and stranger places with which to defend itself.
So a ride upon a dragon should not seem out of place, infact it should seem downright pedestrian compared to things they  could have been riding on [inside out space crabs perhaps?] But it was enough, enough for Patience to try and grasp the scaly surface as best she could, as she cried out her frustration and disapproval of this new reality.
"Egregious reatlivistic translation!"

[Dex+Ath]
Dice: 3 d10 TN8 (1, 7, 9) ( success x 1 )

Patience Mason
[Wits+Ath]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (3, 6, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Demiurge
Somewhere in their wake, another world crumbled into dust - into nothing. Unwoven and unmade. And every single person there - whether they were real or not - was now dead. The mind could scarcely comprehend that kind of tragedy. That an entire reality could simply cease to exist. Who was left to mourn the people there? The monuments of human will and civilization? All that work. All that life. Erased.
And what of Atreyu? Was he with them? Or had he been left behind to die on the sand as his Roman captors had intended?
From what little the three travelers could discern as they scrambled to keep hold of the dragon beneath them, the Thracian boy was nowhere to be seen.
(The woman though - the dragonrider. Her features held a cast of vague familiarity.)
It was difficult to comprehend much of anything right that moment, though. When all their force and energy had to be channeled into the act of not falling. What was beneath them? How high were they? What sort of world had they come to? The woman riding the dragon was dressed in what looked like white and brown leather, with serviceable but elegantly crafted boots and a riding riding jacket trimmed in white fur. The materials were natural, but the style... was not precisely what one would expect of the arcane. There was nothing primitive in their make.
Lena and Grace barely managed to keep hold of the dragon as they dipped and fell through the air, scrabbling at the warm, soft hide beneath their hands. (Warm. Soft. Not a reptile. Not scaled.) Grace slid backwards and only just caught herself by wrapping her arms around the beast's back leg. Lena actually did fall, but managed to catch hold of the dragon's long, lashing tail. Patience was the only one of them to actually remain on the creature's back.
Then the air above their heads cracked with the sound and the sensation of something flying past. Not another dragon, but some kind of futuristic jet, sleek and black and glimmering in the morning sun. It rolled on its axis and doubled-back, firing at them with laser-hot bolts that shot overhead, just barely missing the dragon's beating wings as it dove to the side.
It wasn't just them, up here. There were more of those fighter jets. And more dragons too, in brilliant array of colors. Each of them sporting a rider and what looked to be some kind of metallic crest strapped to their chests. White and red laser beams shot through the sky, firing from both the aircraft and the dragons.
They'd fallen right into the middle of what looked to be a rather heated battle.

Lena Reilly
There might be another time when Lena would be holding on tight with a manic laugh and leaning back to enjoy the wind in her hair.  Indeed, that time could even be now.  But it isn't.  There are places she needs to be and she doesn't have the patience (pun unintentional, Madame Etherite) for this.
Also, there is a good chance of them getting blown up.  Or eaten.  Or blown up and then their appendages eaten.  So she doesn't keep herself grasping to the tail with all her might.  When she was a girl, Lena wanted to ride a dragon.  When she was a teenager, she always dreamed of flying.
So she lets go.  Sure, she can't forget how to land, but for a few moments...she will be flying.

Grace
Grace doesn't notice Lena's fall. She's too concerned with climbing the leg of a white... whatever this is. All focus is arrayed upon surviving, and she digs in, even as the thought registers that the beast she's falling off of is unreal. Unreal, and in the middle of a battle.
The shock is hard to deal with, going from one chaos to the next. She digs in with her fingers into the hide, trying to hold on for dear life. For dear lives, actually. If she doesn't survive, what will happen to their friends? To the world they left behind?

[Wits + Ath!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (2, 3, 4, 8) ( success x 1 )

Patience Mason
The fear of falling is not something that Patience knows all that well, she has spent much of her life high in the clouds, on their native plane and others besides, and so the thought of falling from the dragons back is not something that grips her mind.
She simply does her best to hold on, as dragons and jets vie for dominance of the sky, her gaze turning this way and that in an attempt to make out some objective, some destination that might get them out of this mess.
Sadly behind her is not a place she can look so easily, and so she does not see Lena slip from the bakc of the dragon, falling into the depths of that great blue abyss.

[Wits+Ath]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (3, 3, 4, 4) ( fail )

Demiurge
[Bashing damage to Lena]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 4, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )

Demiurge
[And to Patience]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Lena Reilly
[[Soak!]]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 5) ( fail )

Patience Mason
[Soak]
Dice: 2 d10 TN6 (1, 2) ( fail )

Demiurge
Lena made a choice to release her grip on the dragon's tail, trusting her fate to luck rather than remain in the air where she might be shot or burned. It was a risky choice - she might very well fall to her death from this height. But fall she did, and for a while, yes, it did feel like flying.
Patience did not fall so intentionally, but she did fall. Moments after Lena released her grip, the dragon roared and bucked as something scalding and red tore through the membrane of its left wing. It reared back its head and spat something onto the attacking jet - a thick glob of some kind of acidic slime that almost immediately began to eat its way through the hull of the ship. But there was no time to savor this victory, because the world tilted and spun out of control, weaving and whirling as the dragon half-soared, half-fell through the sky. That was when Patience lost her grip and went tumbling back into the air.
She and Lena fell for what seemed an impossibly long time. And then the earth rose up to meet them, and they crashed into something cold and wet with a terrible, bruising force that knocked the breath from their lungs. They sunk beneath the water's surface, swallowed by the lake they'd just landed in as the water churned around them.
It hurt, and they'd be wounded after, but they were alive. A lucky break.
Meanwhile, Grace managed to hang onto the dragon's leg, clutching on for dear life as the rider shouted something incomprehensible to her.

Demiurge
[Lena takes 2B, Patience takes 3B]

Grace
"What!? What did you say!?"
It's hard to tell in the tumult whether the words she heard were in another language, or just garbled in the wind and noise around them. The dragon's lurching and spinning threatens to cause her to fall, but she hangs on, oblivious to the fate of her friends.
It seems they're in for a rough landing soon. And it would't do to get stuck in the landing gear, so to speak. So she tries to get into a bit of a safer spot, as the world spins around her in laser-filled flashes.

Grace
[Wits + Ath!]
Dice: 4 d10 TN8 (1, 2, 5, 7) ( fail )

Demiurge
[Bashing damage to Grace +1 because botch]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 5, 7, 8, 9) ( success x 3 )

Grace
[Soak!]
Dice: 3 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )

Patience Mason
Patience hits the water with a heavy, bone jarring splash, the hit enough to knock the wind out of her and make her simply float there beneath the waves for a few long seconds as her body and mind fought to recover.
But then breathing became necessary, and simply floating was no longer an option. So she swam, pushing to the surface with lungs burning. She drew in breath raggedly as she looked skyward to the battle continuing around them watching as the dizzying battle of magic vs technology raged.
But she needed to get out of the water, and so she looked this way and that, seeking land.

Lena Reilly
Choice.  There's something to be said about the importance of taking control of your destiny.  And they'd all done that--Lena, Grace and Patience.  Lena wouldn't fault them for holding on; it was the sensical thing to do.  What anyone with half a brain would do.  And in truth, while she might be very reasonable sometimes, there are times Lena doesn't have the sense that the Tellurian gave a moth.  She doesn't get a chance to experience pure, unmitigated sensation like this often in the real world.  And she knows it could well mean her death.
Here though, she doesn't mind so much, as long as she gets the chance to feel something she's long denied herself.  Living without a net.  Grace will probably curse her for it, but she was smiling as she let go and went limp, allowing herself to fall through the air.  The rushing sound in her ears, her hair flying over her face, the way her clothing flaps...she may never admit that this was part of why she let go, but she could die happy right now.
And even when her body collides with the surface of the lake and brings the shock of pain, the agonizing feeling of cold water rushing into where air just got forcefully ejected...she doesn't regret that.  She's feeling, and it feels terrible.  And that's amazing.
A lucky break.  Lena would call it a fateful one.  And then she's pushing with agonized and bruised limbs form the impact with a hard watery surface, getting herself to the surface and gasping for air, looking around.  She gasps and sputters, and sees Patience.  She's okay.
Lena's not looking for land right now.  Lena's looking up as she tries to tread water.  She's looking to see if Grace is still hanging on.

Demiurge
Grace called out to the rider over the roar of the rushing air, but her words fell on deaf ears. The dragon was hit with another barrage of weapon-fire, its flesh flayed and torn open, and the rider screamed in agony as if she felt the pain herself. Grace hung on as long as she could, but it was a losing battle. The dragon roared one last time, dropped its wings and fell. And Grace fell with it, until she lost her grip and went hurtling back into the empty air. The last thing she saw before she hit the water was the shot of some kind of harpoon as it buried itself in the rider's thigh and yanked her forcibly from the dragon's back.
Then the breath was knocked from her lungs, and her body wrenched from the impact of the lake's surface. She was pulled underwater, so she wouldn't see the dragon hurtling after her, but the others did. It hit the lake with a tremendous crash, sending plumes and waves of water fountaining up into the air. The force of the tide yanked and buffeted Grace beneath the water, and when she finally managed to resurface, she'd be desperate for air. But she, like the others, was still alive.
Lena and Patience were far enough out that they escaped the worst of the splash, treading water as they looked up to the sky. What they saw was one side clearly winning the battle, as dragons dropped, bleeding and shredded, from the sky. Already a few of them lay draped, broken and mangled, on the grass nearby. The others (perhaps a dozen, all told) were soon to follow. A few of the ships had crashed too, their wreckage smoking in the nearby treeline where the field met the woods. But they were the minority.

Lena Reilly
Lena sees Grace fall, and for her, Lena loooks worried.  Worried for herself?  Nah, she wasn't for one moment.  For her friends though...that's a different matter.  She sees Grace hit the water, sees the forme of the massive dragon crashing down after her, and she calls out and starts to move in that direction.  She's too slow, she knows...but it's the trying that matters as much as the result.
And yet she is too slow, and shoved back.  She sputters as the water comes up a little, hitting her mouth, and spits it out.  She's waiting there until she sees Grace, at which point she breathes out her tension and the breath she's holding in a sigh.  And then she starts swimming to the shore.
"We have to get away from here before we get crushed by something," she calls out.  "Looks like magic is losing to science."
There's a chill in her bones at that.  She doesn't hold anything against technomages, but this looks more Technocratic than anything else.

Grace
Upon falling, Grace begins to scream. It's a thing of frustration and fear wrapped up into the idea that the next few seconds are really going to hurt.
She's right about that part.
When they all get back, this is one part of the story she will not be telling Kalen about in any great detail. Her body bruised from slamming into water, and being dragged under by the wake of a dragon, her breath sucked out by the scream -- the world is pain for the time it takes to reach the surface. And she gasps in when she gets there, almost choking in the need to breathe.
The surfacing provides her the first good look at what's really going on, and it's not much of a comfort. Lena's voice, however, that is comforting indeed.
"Yeah, get to the land!"
With that, she starts swimming.

Patience Mason
They were alive, wet, bruised and short of breath, but they were alive. The same might not be said for the men and women battling above their heads, some crashing to the ground in a blaze of fire, or being snapped up by a harpoon much like their fellow dragon rider had been.
Patience watched as well as Grace is almost crushed by the falling dragon, and is equally thankful when she surfaces, relatively unscathed. She follows Lena towards the shore, and when at last she reaches the water's edge she would pull herself up onto the edge and rise.
After a moment of steadying herself she would start towards the ships, interested to inspect them, at the same time...it was an opportunity to get out of there, disappear into the trees and escape this battle.

Demiurge
The lake was wide and deep, and by the time the three of them reached shore, the battle above their heads was all but over. The handful of remaining jets hovered for a moment (perhaps surveying their victory,) then streaked off into the sun toward some unknown destination.
At least they hadn't though to scan the ground for survivors (or maybe that simply didn't matter to them.) From what Lena, Patience and Grace could tell, they might well be the only ones left alive. A few of the other dragonriders lay broken and lifeless on the ground with their dragons, but others, like the rider of the white dragon, were missing. Prisoners now, more than likely.
The rider - she'd looked familiar. She could have been Atreyu's twin. They had the same nose, the same mouth, the same eyes, the same dark hair. But there was no chance now to ask her name. Or anything, for that matter. She was long gone.
Now that they were on dry land, the three survivors would have a moment to take in their surroundings. It was like earth, but not. Similar in its look and feel, but the specifics were different. Around the lake was a field of tall grass and wildflowers of varieties that none would find familiar. And to the East and South, a verdant forest stretched out into the horizon. To the West, beyond the field, were rolling hills of scrubby grassland dotted with rocks, and beyond that, an arid mountain-range made of red stone. North lay more hills, and more mountains - these ones capped with snowy peaks.
There was no immediate sign of civilization.
Patience moved to investigate the wreckage of the closest fighter jet, passing beneath the overhanging branches of a large tree. The ship was mangled and cracked, its hull partly dissolved from the acid the dragon had spat at it. The surface still smoked and hissed as it eroded beneath the layer of slime. Patience would be able to make out the dead pilot through the hole in the domed cockpit, his head cracked open from impact. He looked as human as the dragonriders.

Lena Reilly
She gets out of the water, takes a few minutes to catch her breath.  She's trying not to smile too widely from the experience they just had.  Short of the death of the dragons and Grace's plunge, she was exultant.  Of course, that chill doesn't help.
She reaches up and pulls her hair out of her face, letting it fall along her back in wet ropes as she looks around and takes in the landscape.  Patience is looking over the wreckage of the fighters, so she's not concerned about that part.  If they can get any intelligence from that, than she's not going to be able to help.
"North got us where we needed to go with the portal.  Unless you got any other ideas, I say we head that way."

Patience Mason
[Per+Invest]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 3, 3, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

Grace
Grace follows Patience to look at the jet when she gets to shore, even though she's still reeling from the adrenaline and shock and death. Her heart's beating faster than it has any right to, pounding in her ears as she drags herself out of the water and runs to the sleek black dead thing.
There's a flinch in her when she sees the pilot, dead as the jet he rode in. But then, she's seen so much death today, if days can even be counted anymore.
"Toward where those jets flew off when they left. Our key and portal are in that direction, I almost guarantee it," Grace says, her voice gravelled from almost choking in the water. "The dragonrider was Atreyu, I think. They took her."
And then, she started doing her own investigation of the jet.
[Perception + Investigation!]
Dice: 6 d10 TN6 (2, 2, 3, 4, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

Demiurge
Grace can see that the ship will be difficult to pry open - at least by mundane means. The hole in the cockpit is large enough to crawl through (barely) but the edges are still slick with that acidic slime, so attempting to go in will require some skill and cleverness on her part. Inside, what she can see besides the dead pilot is a board of controls that are no longer lit up. There don't appear to be any obvious devices lying around. The pilot himself, however, has something wired into his head, just behind his ear.

Patience Mason
The ship was a cornucopia of technology, and if she had more time [oh she was always wishing she had more time in this place] to examine this device she might well spend days working away on its components.
But time was, in some sense of the essence so Patience simply went for what was necessary. She would pry open the cockpit carefully working to gain access to the instrumentation and any other intel that might be available.
"Affirmative Lena, the geo-magnetic positional force and sensate identified and indexed as north would be a scientifically viable direction in which to movate our bio-physical structures." She nods slowly as she looks over the plane, her attention split between the conversation at hand, and her investigations into the ship.
"Aurally disseminated request to maintain this geo-physical locality for several temporal units ranging from .5 units to 5 whole units of a singular rotation of this relativistic celestial body. I hypothesize that actualizing entry into this self contained atmospheric movation control pod will yield sufficient advantages in direct and quantifiable comparisions to those allocated temporal units."

Demiurge
North was as good a direction as any, and it was the direction their rider had likely been taken. So a decision was made, and soon enough they'd be on their way, marching through the field and over hills toward a colder climate.
But first, Grace and Patience had their eyes on the ship and whatever technology lay inside. So they set about investigating as the bodies of the dead lay around them as silent audience.
It was a gruesome affair, but they could use whatever help they could find. And it seemed likely that they were facing a long trek.