A Granary Ablaze

The tallest building they had-on fire. One of the robbers, apparently in some spiteful last bid, rode away with a torch aloft over their head, briefly letting go of their mount to make what some gesture with their hand towards me with their free hand. If I had hands of my own, I would have returned it by flipping them the bird-didn't take a genius to see that would have been the equivalent. What was at first just an incoherent screams of panic soon gathered into a more coherent call to action.

"Fire! The granary is on fire! Everybody, grab a bucket, to the well!" Somebody had called out. I didn't recognize it, so that merely meant I know what two people it wasn't. Wow-there were more people here than I realized. Judging my how many people streamed out to either grab a look or comply, they must have lived several large families to a straw and mud house. However, as much as I would have liked to take the opportunity to introduce myself, now was not the time for that.

I still had lives to save, after all. Rushing over to to the building, I soon unraveled myself near it's base, thankful for my potent regeneration fighting against against the fire letting me practically brush right up against it it. There wasn't much time. I knew a little bit about these things-granaries tended to...explode, for lack of a better term, if a fire happens. Something about dust the from grain basically turning into a natural fuel-air bomb unless steps are taken. Steps which I doubt were present in a world where thatching still made up roofs. It was too late-the blaze had already grown to cover too much of the building for them to stop it . I didn't know how long it would be before it simply blew up, but I know I had to stop them from being in the range. So, when the villagers came with buckets, they found themselves held back by my expanse of vines spreading out.

"You can't do anything for this. It's too much. Save it for making sure the rest can make it out OK." It the only explanation I give them. A few look angry, but they take no action against me. A simple calculation on if they had the **** to make me do anything. Nevertheless, they did not move back without me giving a gentle push, apparently not having had it happen before. Lucky sods.

Soon enough, the fire is on the roof. Straw begins to burn, dropping a few embers into the grain-filled chamber below...BANG. As I expected-basically, the whole top half of the thing is ripped off in the explosion. Fortunately, my charges were fine-my own body absorbing most of the blast. Nothing I can't patch up with either some waiting or a few healing spells. I start resorting to the latter when I realized a problem: the explosion had caused some burning grain to be spread about-causing parts of my body to be set aflame. Desperately, I beat at myself with my tentacles to try and put out the fires on my vines, MP slowly falling as I have to spend mana faster than I regain it to deal with the constant stream of incoming damage.

The villagers, for their part, had their own issues to deal with. I wasn't the only thing that had burning pieces of grain spread on it from the explosion-the neighboring buildings also took some hits. Fortunately, since I had at least saved them from wasting it where it wouldn't be useful, they had water to spare dealing with these. I was even able to help a bit, lifting up people so they wouldn't need to run for a ladder or similar with what focus wasn't used on my own survival. I got some assistance on that after a bit-the splashing over my somewhat-dried up body felt great, especially contrasting against the heat that it replaced.

With this crisis finally dealt with, I finally got a moment of calm since this started-resting on the burnt-out ruins of what once was their food storage. Guiltily to admit, my roots found the ashes to be rather pleasing to absorb-and good for helping fuel my regeneration, as burnt vines fell off my body and body was **** to replace them.