The Scorpion swung around to face his pursuer, despite the hundred arrows and stones coming at him from all around. They were petty attempts at onslaught, anyway, made by a hoard of scurrying archers unable to hold a station long enough to aim before the creature would disperse them with claw or tail. It locked its terrible eyes on Haarp and aimed its stinger overhead. The first strike took Haarp by surprise, but he still managed to dodge it. Dust sprang up from the ground as the heavy spike ran deep and retracted a split-second later. Another strike down, and another; they came swiftly, but the runner was just slightly swifter. Haarp, loving every minute of danger, pressed on at lightning speed toward his thrown – the head of his enemy.
The yeomen continued to scatter and shoot when possible, but the beast was so great and had so many moving parts. It was an army within itself, a war machine, hungry for flesh and built for this sort of resistant meal.
The stinger continued to hammer into the ground in quick succession, just barely missing its target, and getting closer. Haarp glanced around for his partner. Orvin Dafshire had collected some of the injured yeomen, Elwin helped to carry them, and taken them out of harm's way. He was on his way back into the fight and it seemed right to both warriors, as they made eye contact across the field, that this should end soon.