Jaune scampered to the side as the doctor slashed forward. The bonesaw left behind a flimsy masma of the black smoke like substance. That could not be good. Jaune reengaged Glassvain's whip form, knowing that it out ranged the bone saw normally. He flicked the segmented whip at his unlicensed medical foe.

At least jaune thinks that he was unlicensed. He couldn't imagine anyone giving this man a practitioner's license.

Jaune kept his eyes fixated on the doctor as it prepared to make another dash forward. Jaune preemptively rolled to the side, expecting for the Doctor to charge forward in his same position.

Just imagine Jaunes' surprise as the doctor lunged in his direction, having moved his line of attack over a couple dozen degrees. Jaune turned, hoping to mitigate the damage he would take. The doctor grasped his shoulder, the black magic eating away and rotting his flesh. Jaune spat out some foam as he rolled away from the doctor. Glassvain ripped at the doctor's chest, warding the dark doctor away.

Jaune glanced beyond his foe, seeing that the ground that the doctor had performed his magical dash forward was coated in a black slime, burning with a dark purple flame.

Great. B groaned. We're fighting a videogame boss.

Jaune blinked. I guess you're kind of right. It does seem like a boss fight.

LESS TALKING, MORE STABBING! A yelled at the two, making a hacking motion with his fist. Jaune decided to cast a bolt of frost at the doctor, staggering him and buying Jaune the precious few seconds he needed to recite his prayer of healing.

"Myrth, Lordess above, looked down upon Acan, dripping in blood, and spilt her wine upon him, turning him to wine. And thus his strikes were washed away, left for the world to drink." Jaune recited as he stumbled and backtracked a retreat. The bleeding, infected with puss and ooze, stung as Jaune could feel it become more liquid. The red wine flowed from his shoulder, fizzing with some kind of magic to cause the wound to scab over.

The doctor advanced upon the ranger once more, hellbent on sedating the sick man and operating. Jaune, on the other hand, was having none of that. Whipping at the doctor, Jaune fell into a dance. It was a straight forward, simple dance that went around in circles. Jaune made sure to stick to vision range the doctors bad, most recently stabbed, eye.

Step backwards and lash out, keep out of reach. On the occasion that the Doctor made a leaping attack, or dashed forward with that masma attack, Jaune made sure to jump or roll out of the way and implement rule number four.

Of course, it was not infallible, and on occasion jaune would taste the bite of the bone saw. He very much disliked the feeling of his flesh sloshing off his bones like a diseased baby back rib. Jaune blasted the doctor with a bolt of frost, once again buying time for him to fuel his crippling addiction to "health Potions."

Ohh, that one had a dark cherry taste! A chirped as jaune threw back another bottle. He chugged, emptying the thing. He threw the empty glass at the doctor.

The doctor was bent over, breathing heavily as his once pristine white coat now stained the color of embering charcoal with his black red blood. He was on his last leg, and Jaune knew it.

The bottle shattered against the doctor's chest, and Jaune rushed forward. He reached into his pack, grasping his hands on a heavier weapon. Pulling out a maul, and bounced it in his hands, testing the weight.

A six pound hammer with a pick on one end introduced itself to the doctor as Jaune thrusted with it, catching the doctor in center mass. He tumbled to the ground like a poorly propped up sack of potatoes. The force was followed with an overhead swing, hoping to smash the man into paste. The bone saw deflected the blow that would have crushed his ribs. Jaune preserved the momentum, turning it into a side swipe to the scrambling doctor's kneecaps.

Nora would have been proud of that. B winced as the doctor's leg bent with a sudden crack. The doctor screamed a laughing kind of cry. It was an awful crow-like laugh. Jaune shook his head as he shouldered the maul.

Jaune drove the maul home to that black stained beak. With a crunch sound not unsimilar to the breaking of glass, the doctor's head was turned into a starburst stain on the floor. Jaune closed his eyes with a heavy wince, fighting the urge to vomit.

That would be disrespectful. "Well, at least it's done." he sighed as he looked away. Taking a glance around the room, he saw that the opposite wall was actually a doorway. While it was blocked by the medical beds and barrier cloths, but those were easy enough to remove.

Jaune stode over to where his knife lay, picking up the thrown weapon. He sighed, wiping the blood off on the cloth of his outer thigh. Looking at the corpse, now but a stain on the floor and dust in the wind, he saw what spoils had been left for him to plunder.

Ah, sweet sweet loot. A sighed, like he was getting a sniff of glue.

Jaune shook his head as he approached the potion bottle shaped glass. A string labeled it as "Medical Disinfectant Alcohol, liquorice flavored." jaune read. "Why the hell would you flavor Medical Disinfectant anything, much less liquorice?"

B shrugged. I dunno. It doesn't change the taste anyway.

Jaune sighed as he put it away in his interdimensional pouch. "Don't think about the implications of it, Jaune. It's just a dream. It's all in a dream. It can break the laws of physics as we know it. It's only in your head." He muttered as his hand retreated from the full feeling bag. It always felt full, and always weighed about five pounds. Jaune did his best not to think about it.

Jaune worked on moving the beds to the side, granting him access to the door. Pushing the massive cathedral style panels open, Jaune was surprised at what lay before him. Gone were the endless cobblestone streets and buildings of the Eternal City. they had been replaced with fields of corn and wheat, the path in between the fences meandering down to a town.

Jaune could tell that it wasn't inhabited, but still worth exploring. Who knew what ancient treasures he would find.

He might even find a pitchfork.

Snarky today, arn't we? B commented as Jaune started walking down.

Give me a break, I just killed the only thing that could form an actual sentence on this planet so far. Jaune rebutteled as he ran his hand through the grain. It felt almost brittle and calcified.

Jaune was just glad to see that there was plant life, even if it was only a mockery of it.

Jaune approached the town with a wary eye, prepared to be shot at by angry drunken farmers.

What would drunken farmers look like?

Probably about the same, just with straw hats.

Jaune passed the threshold of the town, looking around at the empty place. There was a creaking from just a little to the left of his eyesight. Jaune dashed into a spin, low to the ground as he turned to the source of the sound.

There was nothing but a decrepit one story building behind him. Jaune squinted at it, scanning for the danger.

You are not safe here.

Jaune knew that by the hairs that stood up on the back of his neck.

Something is Watching.

Jaune glanced around, daring the world to show him what had made that sound. He turned slowly, Glassvain and his favorite knife out in hand.

This place is not safe.
Jaune slowly began to descend further into the town, his very instinct yelling at him to get out of here.

Flee this place, You are not Welcome.

"Tell me something I don't know." Jaune grumbled as he saw that the center of town was dominated by a gravestone. It was originally just a simple town square, but it looked like a gravestone had grown out of the center of the cobble stones.

Escape this place.

Jaune decided that doing what his instincts had been yelling for him to do, and sat down. He closed his eyes, and swept himself away.

James watched the ranger walk away from the massive dead beast he had left with him. "He expects me to cook this before noon?" He asked in disbelief. The children stood, excitingly awaiting orders. James sighed, shaking his head.

This was going to be uncomfortable, to say the very least. Butchering was always a bloody, messy and sickening job.
"Alright kids." James started. "I want you all to build a fire. A big one. And make it long. We will need it to cook the boar."

The children nodded and scattered, going off to gather firewood.

James sighed as he pulled out a knife. The wrong tool for the job, but it would cut. The blade met the boar's neck, as the cook got to work on cleaning out the boar. First, he removed the arrow and slit the throat, turning the boar upside down. Gallons upon gallons of blood gushed out of the dead pig.

Caran eyes traced from the butcher to the children at the edges of the forest, gathering fallen logs and branches, to Jaune Karmora. He had laid down on one of the carts, and promptly stopped moving. Presumably having fallen asleep, Caran was content to let their savior rest.

The fire had started, and james was hacking off chunks of meat. Caran once again gazed at the blonde vestige of her-their savior.

Her head tilted as her face shifted to concern.

"Is… is he breathing?" Caran asked, her voice laced with tentative concern. His chest didn't seem to be moving. Caran moved closer to the Karmora.

She couldn't see his breath, and he lay still. One of the other housewives leaned over to Caran. "I don't think so. You should probably go poke him or something." Alma. Caran approached the sleeping dreamer.

His face was pale, and there were deep bags under his eyes. A small scar had formed on his left jaw, a paper thin streak of clean skin on his prickly rough face. Almost two weeks of not shaving had grown a prickly peach fuzz. Some form of organic junk, a rich dark yellow sand color, had formed around the blonde's eyes as it grated against his skin, resting on a cracking and dry desert of pale beige. Jaune's hair had grown long indeed, a lock hoving down by the bridge of his nose. It was matted and knotted, and the left side was braided with dried blood. A scab on his left temple had fed the staining on his left. A broken nose, twisting down and to the right slightly, had almost ruined any semblance of fair breeding for visual appeal. It simply didn't suit the well crafted face it was attached to, stereotypically anglo-saxon. It could even be described as orleanian. Highish cheekbones, blue eyes and pale skin were marred by days of harsh weathering, blasting of what one could only assume as fine sediment, and ceaseless combat. His cheeks were stretched thin over his elf like cheekbones, giving him a worn and gaunt look. His eyes might even be sunken slightly from lack of rest. His gold blonde hair seemed to be greying, a faded greying ash tint if you didn't look at it closely. A patch of moss from his cloak had gotten itself stuck in his hair, the veins of hay gold having wrapped and entangled the plant matter.

Caran's gaze shifted lower, to his neck, the visible lines from his veins and muscles having an effect that was not quite grotesque or disgusting, but concerning. It was not the neck of a healthy man. The skin seemed too thin, and too pale. The chestplate Jaune Karmora wore did little to hide his thinness. It almost seemed to be projected over the ranger's chest, like some kind of cliff overhang or cave roof. Below, a ripped black hoodie was practically only threads by his hips, doing little to hide the well defined abdominals.

They were not beautiful muscles, carbed from flesh colored marble. They were pale, a rough and starting contrast to the sun beaten face that belonged to them. Caran could see the rivers of purple that made up his veins and arteries. Her fingertips graced the ridges that she swore you could grate Tapaya on. They were abnormally cold. Not to the point of death, but this man desperately needed a blanket. She dared to look at the rest of her savior.

The cuffs of his pants were ragged, and his shoes had most certainly seen better days. His arm braces were scratched, and one was punctured fully. The cylindrical wrap that was hosted on his shoulder, that she believed was a quiver, looked like he had pulled it from some apocalypse.

Little did she know how close she was.

Did he shift just now? It was hard to tell. Caran looked over Jaune one more time.

"You know you're being a little creepy, right?" A young hyena fanus commented, snapping Caran out of her gazing. She blushed, stuttering an excuse.

"Wha-n-no I wasn't. He wasn't uhh… He didn't seem to be breathing, so i-"

The fanus sighed, stopping her. "I don't want to hear you excuses, Mrs. Cyue." he said with a particular tiredness. "But isn't he a little young for you?"

The housewives in the back sputtered, trying and failing to hide their laughter. "I believe, as my son says, that you got burned!" An Ox faunus called out from the group. Caran shyly slinked away, her face burning.

She re-merged with the gaggle of housewives. They all opened their mouths to poke fun at Caran.
"Shut it." She snapped, not wanting to endure any more embarrassment. The Ox faunus, Nora, held her hands up in a mocking defeat.
"You have good taste. If he was ten years older, i would be on that like Flies to open market meet." Nora smirked.

James watched the housewives for a moment, his attention attracted by their bantering. He rolled his eyes, and returned to his work.

The idle chatter of women never interested him, despite his own idle chatter sounding little different. The children had started a fire, by some miracle. In truth, they had grabbed a salvaged torch that had been kept burning through the night, and used that to start the fire.

James squared his shoulders, picking up a slab of meat he had butchered. "Kids! Start cooking this!" He called.
One of them turned to pick up the slab. "Ewww!" The girl cried as she was handed the slab of bloody meat. "It's all bloody and gross!" the child complained.

Adun leapt at the mention of bloody and gross. "Ohh, blood! Cool!" He exclaimed excitedly.

James groaned. "CHILDREN! Please!" He tried. "Just cook the damn meat"

"But mr. James, its all yucky and wet!" The girl complained. "I don't wanna touch it!"

"I'll cook it! I like icky things!"

"Why?!"

"Why don't you?!"

"Because it's weird!"

"Nuh uh! You're weird!"

"Nuh Uh! You're the weird one!"

James sighed, collapsing his face in his hands. Why was this his life now?

"CHILDREN! WE Have to get this boar cooked before noon! And so help me god, if I hear another word about how the boar is "icky" or someone else is "weird" I will find someone else to help me, understand?" He yelled, trying to regain control of the situation.

He could only hope that it would work.

Jaune woke to a bumpy ride. Looking up, the sky was moving under him.

We're moving. B stated. I wonder what time it is?

Noon. Jaune responded, noting the position of the sun. "It must be noon."

"You have a good eye, Sakrra Jaune." a voice said from next to him. "It is just past twelve fifteen."

Jaune turned his head. "James, right?" he asked, looking at the faunus that he had assigned to cook the boar.

James chuffed, looking behind the wagon intently. "I'm surprised you remember it."

"Names are precious, they deserve to be remembered." Jaune responded, the remains of the butchered boar, on a large leather cloth, resting on his chest and legs.

"Really?" he asked james.

James just shrugged, returning his attention to whatever the cart was dragging behind him. "Didn't have another place to put it. Besides, it puts you to good use."

Jaune was frankly a little insulted, but let it slide. They were working with what they had, after took a whiff of the air. Something was most certainly burning
Jaune looked to the other end of the rope.

"You're…. Dragging a burning log behind us?" Jaune asked as he saw what exactly was burning. Two ropes had been attached to the wagon, and were dragging a square made of tied together logs, a fire burning in the center.

James nodded. "Yup. We didn't have enough time to cook all the boar before we had to move, so me and the boys set up this monstrosity." he said.

Jaune decided that questioning it, or how it even worked as intended, was bad for his mental health. He was a coder at best, and at worst a ranger. Mechanical or physical engineering was not his forte.

Jaune groaned as he let his head fall back to the hard wood surface. His post nap headache had returned with a viscous appetite. Jaune didn't know why sleep no longer gave him rest. Actually, scratch that, he did. He could blame it on the fact that he travelled to The Dream when he slept. But still, if it was a dream he should get some rest from it, right?

Ehh, it was too early to be thinking about such issues.

It's literally past twelve, you twat. A flatlined.

Exactly. Jaune said. Far too early.

The rest of the trip went, well, as smoothly as a rag tag group of recently not slaves refugees could go that day. The sun fell, as it always did. Jaune looked at his map, his face scrunching. "We should push through the night. We are close to Rogues Hill." Jaune called out to his fellow drivers.

"Are you sure? It's over ten miles away." One of the drivers recalled. David? Was his name David? Jaune didn't know.

Jaune nodded. "Yes, but the sooner we get out of the road and into a proper town, the better. You all will be safer at Rogues Hill than you will with only me." He said matter of factly.

There was a murmuring throughout the crowd.

"Get some sleep while you can. With any luck, when you wake, we will be in a town." Jaune said. On a more important note, they wouldn't attract as much attention from the grimm if they were asleep.

Jaune cracked the lead, stirring the horses onward. They kept a steady pace as they trotted down the dirt road, hopefully heading for Rogues Hill.

At least, that's where Jaune assumed they were heading. Jaune really hoped they were heading to Rogues Hill.

Could you imagine how funny it would be if you guys wern't heading to Rogues Hill? A proposed. Jaune closed his eyes in pain at the thought.

No. that would not be amusing in the slightest, A. in fact, that would fucking suck.

Jaune tuned out the two bickering as his senses alerted him. They were not alone. Jaune glanced around, wary of the treeline.

"Ursai, Dead ahead!" one of the drivers called out. Jaune groaned. Lord forbid he ever get a break. One night. Just one god damned night. He mentally complained as he pulled out his bow. Standing on the moving cart, he drew the bowstring back, and an arrow knocked on the string. Jaune leads the bow as the three lumbering bear grimm lumbered onto the path.

"Please, please please die easier than the boar." jaune muttered as he let the arrow fly. The arrow lodged itself into the Ursa's shoulder. Jaune quickly drew another one, letting it fly.

Jaune had the full attention of the ursai now.

"Drive On! Advert Corse!" Jaune yelled to the other drivers. "I don't care what you do, just make it to Rogues Hill!"

The whips cracked, forcing the horses to sprint past. Jaune heard James start to pray as the horses picked up speed. Jaune almost fell over as the cart sped up. The ursai roared as Jaune passed them.

One. Jaune counted, turning to watch the carts fly past. The second cart made it as Jaune shot again at the ursa, stopping a swipe at the cart. Jaune drew again, hoping to buy enough time to let the third pass as well.

He launched the projectile at the front most Ursa, praying that his luck didn't run out. The arrow flew true, but another Ursa surged forward.

"Oh, that is not good." Jaune said, already jumping off the cart.

The ursa's paw made impact with the side of the cart, blasting it to pieces. It looked like a small bomb had detonated from the wood splinters that exploded around the area.

Jaune landed, pulling out Glassvain.

Huh, I wasn't aware we brought that with us. B noted.

Yeah, I wasn't aware either. I suppose it got stuck in our quiver wrap. A dismissed.

B frowned. Wait. He said. When did we get a quiver?

A shrugged, not knowing or caring. Who gives a shit? Come on, we have Grimm to brutally murder!

WE, Jaune emphasized as he started to move forward. Less than a second has passed since he had hit the ground, and he didn't want it to pass that mark. Are saving people

A snorted at that. Keep telling yourself that, champ.

Jaune rolled his eyes, tucking the two away in the depth of his mind. Didn't help that they were a part of it. Glassvain extended out into its whip form.

Now Jaune just had to be fast enough.