An interesting plan, although Answers wouldn't say such sappy crap out loud. The old mercenary just snorted, looking somewhat surprised and a little taken back. That was good wine, least if it weren't already uncorked but still it was a waste was it not? 

Grumbling he stood following Anya's example, grabbing a piece of wood from the fire with one hand while drawing the shortsword with the other. His weathered and calloused hand singed by the heat, Anslem was quick to throw the burning wood towards the undead as they clattered towards them, stepping back with his blade at the ready.

"[color=gray]Getting too old for this shit.[/color]" Anslem muttered to himself with an exasperated sigh.