"Wish I could, but these bloody things aren't exactly my usual choice of weapon either,"

[he is growling, but there's almost some sort of humor in his voice, dry as it might be upon their situation.
He would much more prefer any of Herder's inventions right about now, or hell, just his usual sniper rifle, as long as it did fire more than one shot without having to be reloaded.
Especially since this damn hook isn't helping to speed up the whole process.

Sure, he is still quite quick with reloading the musket, but it's not as fast as he would be if he had two working hands with a full set of fingers.
If he ever gets out of here and sees Herder again, he really needs to buy the guy a drink to show his appreciation.

"These bastards just keep coming,"

[He's not sure if he is talking to himself or the silver haired man next to him, but it's at least loud enough for the other to hear.
Who himself seems to be quite capable with a firearm, from what Moran can tell, while aiming for the next undead creature that's about to overwhelm a poor mariner, making the side of his head explode with another single shot and watching it drop to the ground unmoving while the poor sailor runs for his life.
Well. Not all of them are willing to fight, it seems.]