The half orc takes his attention off the area around them for only a moment, shooting a wry grin at the scarred warrior as he replies to her, "One zombie and all of us? Of course she's going to make it back to the bar."<br/><br/>The knives in his hands glitter and flash as he spins the reflexively, and he shakes his head before returning his attention to the area around them. It would be clear that he's not concerned with the zombie at all, "No, a better bet would be how far the zombie gets before being cut down. I say it makes it halfway to the bar."<br/><br/>The burly rogue's eyes flit over the elf and the zombie as the apparent mage nearby utters mystical words of power and sends bright darts of force ripping into the undead creature. As the impact rips decayed flesh from the approaching creature, Lursk's vestigial tusks are revealed in a sardonic smile. "I wonder where it came from..."