[FONT="]Zinerath was, disappointed, he was expecting to get a torch in short order. His grin closed and turned into a slightly perturbed, if still hopeful, smile; he had not yet given up on the idea of burning the structure, and any undead in side, down into cinders. “EveryOne ALways WANTs to spOil mY fUn…” He pouted beneath his breath in abyssal while he, reluctantly, replaced the flasks, Flint and steel into his pack and Thork talked.[/FONT]