D’Angelo was a man of practicality normally. Generally he preferred doing things in the most simple fashion, however, with his wounds what normally would have been a joke turned into a threat worth dealing with. The man, in life, had been nothing, and now as a running corpse he was a mass of flesh that needed to be dealt with.

Sheathing his short sword he took his long sword in both hands and waited for but a moment, he then let himself fall to the right, swinging his sword with both hands, the dagger skimmed his side and caught in his cloak, but compared to the wounds he had, it was a minor thing.

He lashed out, swinging from right to left at the zombies neck, if he hit the sword would cleanly tear out the creatures throat and even possibly remove its head. His roll was not very graceful, and a he came up on his knees rather than his feet, long sword held defensively in two hands before him.