[Ivelliis]

Telryn stormed towards the fire, which had already spread to the tavern. If it wasn't contained quickly it would carry on destroying most of this awful, little, backwards village.

"Grab some buckets, troughs, anything we can use to fill up with water," He bellowed to anyone who would hear.

Arriving at the well, one man was turning the wheel as fast as he could, but clearly out of breath.

"Step aside, sir." Telryn muttered.

The man, half offended half gracious, looked up at the giant of a man and quickly stepped aside. Grasping the wheel Telryn turned, granting his sheer size and strength, a damn sight faster than the man before him. People rushed, bringing to him anything that could be used to carry water to the tavern. The stables were beyond hope, but the tavern could still be saved if they acted quickly.

Pouring bucket after bucket into a trough, he barked orders. To be in control once again...bliss.

"Quicker."

"Not there, the other end."

And then he heard it. A scream. High pitched and from the direction of the tavern, it was clear what was happening. Without having the breath to sigh, Telryn simply thought about sighing.

"Get me a cloth, a rug, a cloak. Something thick and enough to cover me," He shouted, with a young man sprinting off into a nearby cottage before returning with what looked like a floor rug, dirty and ragged but it would do.

Telryn turned the wheel until a pale of water appeared. Pouring it into a trough on the floor, Telryn grabbed the rug from his new helper and doused it in the water.

"You two, get the other end. We lift on three," He barked as two men grabbed the other side of the nearly-full trough, "One two three."

Spilling a few 'drops', the three men heaved the water towards the tavern.

"Get someone on the well, keep filling buckets and keep pouring them on," He ordered as he sidestepped gingerly towards the tavern, "and down."

The trough hit the floor some feet from the blazing tavern. Telryn looked at the building, and realised he didn't have time to think, didn't have time to be afraid of the fire. The worst case scenario was not that he died, but that the innocent person inside died. For some reason, the fire didn't seem as scary anymore.

Lifting the rug out of the trough, he rinsed it slightly before he prepared himself.

"This could end badly," He muttered before throwing the rug over his head and sprinting into the flaming building.

As Telryn stepped through the door, the smoke hit him like a sledgehammer in the face. Spluttering and coughing, his eyes streaming with tears, he looked to the floor before yelling out "Where are you?" A box made of wood and straw was not the most ideal place to be in a fire. Beams holding the upper smouldered, the flames licking around him. Then he heard it. A cough through the roaring of the flames. In front of him, to the right. Pushing through the smoke, his makeshift fireproof blanket just about keeping him safe, he came to find a young woman lying on her side, face black with soot. Bending down to pick her up with both arms, the noise of cracking wood echoed behind him, seeming to last for a lifetime. The doorway, or what was left of it. The roof was caving in, and started with the only viable exit available to Telryn. Spinning on the spot and looking up, Telryn was the last of the support beams collapse into place on the floor of the only exit.

Well, not the only exit.

Telryn grimaced, pulled the cloak further over himself and his rescuee, and turned ninety degrees to face a run up. And a wall.

"Hoo rah." He whispered, before taking off at a sprint towards what seemed to be a solid object. He must be mad. Turning his shoulder at the last minute, he slammed into the wooden panels, already beginning to crumble and weakened by the fire, and literally powered through it. Unfortunately it didn't leave a comedy, Telryn-shaped hole in the wall, but the sheer mass of his bulky figure had left quite a substantial hole in the wall. Shaking the rug off his frame, he laid the rescuee down, crying out for water as he did. Finally being able to see he glanced at the woman he had rescued. She was burnt on the hands and legs, but her face seemed fine, if you call black from the flames fine.
Fire, it seems, isn’t that bad at all.