Zeke watches as the man brought the smack down on the literally unarmed Prole, landing it in the bushes, stunned, spazzing a bit as it, like any creature, tries to come to terms on just what the hell happened to it. Zeke raises a brow, but continued onward. To each their own on dealing with something, he just hoped this didn't interfere with their chances on entry, knowing how weird the Talos nerve network can be on these matters. It was blindsided though, he thinks to himself.
"A mercenary then, huh?" he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "How's that working out for you now? Then again, could say the same for... eh, everyone. Still tryin' to figure out what it is for me... I was a soldier for Mordania, but I was an angry asshole of a brat who felt indestructible and only wanted the glory. Now I'm... egh... a drunk?"
After a brief chuckle to himself, there was a short moment he went without further words, scratching the back of his neck and leaning back to look at the palace, the guarding Talos increasing in numbers around them.
"Zeke, by the way, short for Ezekiel. No middle name, nor a last. Kinda pathetic, saying it like that, hah!" despite the implications he laughed heartily with careless abandon.