Johnathan's heart sank as he heard the screams of his friends. He was stupid. He should have let Tom go and secure the gate to their cellar basement. That would have been smart but no... he couldn't abandon his friend. Now he had to pay the price of valuing the lives of one over the lives of many He had turned the well fortified and hidden basement into a tomb. He looked back to Tom to only see more death. He had to do something anything! He left the still warm body of Tom on the ground and said, "I'm sorry. I couldn't save you." He gripped his weapon in two hands and made a mad dash towards the screams. He was attacked by a few more dogs along the way but he made quick work of them with swift and precise swings at their vitals. He used his breast plate to his advantage, blocking the bites and even cracking a few teeth.<br/><br/>Johnathan finds himself back at the hideout. The screams and been reduced to groans and moans. The barks and snarls are louder than ever. The half-elf blacksmith sees red in his eyes, both metaphorically and literally. Lets out war cry and kicks, bashes and breaks every opposing force in his side. Multiple inner voices scream at him for vengeance and berate him for being as stupid as he was. He should have left. He should have left the city with his friends. He should have told them to abandon everything and run. But... how could they do that? How could they leave the place they grew up in behind? How could they just leave all the memories behind to be soiled by the war machine? How could they just run away from their problems just like that and for how long could they keep running before the ruthless advance of the empire caught up to them?<br/><br/>Johnathan's armor absorbed most of the war dog's onslaught. His mind was too flooded with all sorts of thoughts and emotions to feel the cuts and serrations he had sustained. He wove, ducked, misdirected and struck down all enemies before him. Finally he dropped his weapon. The cellar was strewn with corpses and all was silent save for the still distant barks coming from the sewers. His eyes scanned the red room looking for any signs of life. His eyes meet the cold lifeless gazes of the three girls. His brain, registering each gruesome detail.<br/><br/>He walked over to Jill, the blonde hair she had always kept tidy was stained and messy. The sickening red rope like structure of intestines stare at John. Heather lies sprawled on the floor, teeth clenched and completely mangled limbs. Slumped against a wall is Samantha, missing a leg and a large hole where are jugular used to be. Johnathan closes each of their eyes and just stands in the middle of the carnage, silent and still. The grip on his weapon tightened. He securely shut the cellar door and replaced his breastplate with plate mail. By this time the dogs from the sewers were barking at the secured door and Johnathan could hear the sounds of Imperial soldiers behind the dog. His grip on the his weapon tightened and while a Molotov was secure on his belt. He snarled and mumbled through gritted teeth, "Come on. I'll kill every last one of you."