Playing with Fire 3

Playing with Fire 3 is an optional encounter in the Madness & Magma hub. Boots of Magma Walking are required to reach this encounter, and you must also clear Playing with Fire 1 and Playing with Fire 2.
==Enemies==
*Lashing Tentacles (120 Platinum, 120 XP, 120 Energy, 7 HP Normal, 8 HP Hard, 9 HP Nightmare)
*Grasping Tentacles (140 Platinum, 140 XP, 140 Energy, 7 HP Normal, 8 HP Hard, 9 HP Nightmare)
*Magma Horror (160 Gold, 160 XP, 160 Energy, 1 HP All) *Locked until others are defeated.*
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
Hugh whirls round, his eyes sweeping the surrounding magma.
"What was that?" In response to your blank stares, he adds: "There was something in the lava!"
"Magma," you correct.
"I don't care what the bloody thing's called! There's something under there!"
"Another elemental?"
"No... I didn't get a good look, but..."
"I saw it too," Brachus says. "From the corner of our eye. It looked like-"
"A bit like-"
"A tentacle!" the two of them chorus.
"Then we should-" you begin.
It's then that you realize they weren't finishing their sentences. They're pointing at something behind you...
===Conclusion===
[New Brawl boss unlocked!] 
Though much of your education was spent under the tutelage of the Kasan family's grandmasters, you also had the privilege of being taught by a wide assortment of other men and women. Some were experts in the use of particular weapons or forms of magic, who were brought in to fill the gaps in your grandmasters' curricula or offer supplementary training in the narrow areas where they could claim superiority. Others possessed rather more eclectic talents or fighting styles which were deemed to be of some potential value, however nebulous, and those individuals were usually paid a handsome fee to impart their knowledge for a short time before returning to whatever strange occupation of manner of existence they claimed as their own.
One such series of lessons was conducted by a woman whose career history was quite possibly unique in all the world: a jester turned master-at-arms. Her sessions were worthy of a lunatic asylum. In the first she splattered a custard pie in your face before attacking you with a training sword -- forcing you to duel with your eyes and mouth full of cloying viscosity. In another she forced you to wear absurdly oversized shoes to see if you could manage to maintain your combative footwork. Whenever you questioned her about these seemingly deranged activities, she replied that a warrior needed to be prepared for anything, and assured you that undergoing training far crazier than anything you'd encounter during your battles and adventures would prove valuable.
Perhaps she was right about the worthiness of her instruction. But as you dive out of the path of a descending tentacle, hurling yourself into a combative roll on the surface of molten magma whilst simultaneously trying to direct your tumble to ensure that you stay within the length of the rope connecting you to Tessa so as not to drag her off balance, you decide that your life is even more bizarre than the warrior-jester's lessons.
A second tentacle thrashes into the air above you, hurling burning droplets from its thick orange mass.
"Left!" Tessa yells.
She clutches the rope with one hand, her voice and manner thrusting a plan into your mind with the near-magical connection that exists between true friends and battle brethren.
You do as she says, and leap to the left -- trusting her guidance. She moves to her right at the same instant, allowing the full length of the rope to drape across the molten rock.
The monster's mighty appendage slams down onto the magma where you were standing but a moment ago, splashing into the searing lake -- driving the rope beneath the surface. But only for a moment.
The spell refuses to yield even to the abomination's might. The rope rebels against the assault and springs back above the magma, fling the offending tentacle away with such force that it smacks the creature right across its gigantic eye.
Your companions aren't idle while the monster suffers its slapstick injury. The rope-connected line curves around its massive body, weapons and spells assailing it from all along its winding length. It's a bizarre battle. You doubt even your famed ancestor even did anything quite like this. But your friends are equal to the challenge. The warlike chain encircles the beast like a sea serpent wrapping itself around a kraken, ensnaring its aquatic rival in a coiled embrace.
Tears appear in its thick hide, wrought by sword and axe. And when the soft inner flesh exposed by their martial ministrations meets the searing magma, the beast roars -- its appendages flailing in haphazard sweeps and body contorting this way and that in a vain effort to keep its wounds from the punishing element which was once its haven.
You clamber onto its bulk, along with the others, conquering the mound of flesh as though it were some hill upon a contested field of war. Magma splashes around you, upon you -- but it's impotent against the arcane field bestowed by the boots. Its molten dominion cannot aid it now... Can only harm it, hurt it, make its death a merciful release.
Weapons work their butchery, sundering flash, blinding eyes. Soon the monster is a bloody ruin, and the lake takes it into its sepulchral embrace.
"Bet even your sodding ancestor never killed one of those things."
A faint smile crosses your lips.
"Actually, he did."
The smile gives way to a small sigh. It catches you by surprise, betraying your thoughts before you can stifle it. Will it always be like this -- walking in the Dragon-Rider's footsteps? Ever echoing his deeds like a worshipper acting out the great triumphs of his divine master?
"Oh... Well, did he walk on magma while he did it?"
"No..."
"There you go then."
Category:Madness & Magma