The ponderous creature proved deceptive in that it was far swifter and more agile than any creature its size should ever be allowed to be. Blackthorne threw himself backwards with all of his might and even fell to his side in a desperate attempt to escape the attack when twin scimitars slashed through the place where he had previously stood. In the exchange his scavenged loot sack made of old and tattered silk was left behind. Several gold coins and the hilt of a ceremonial sword peeked out from its opening.

Barely able to scrabble sideways, he narrowly avoided a nearly invisible attack that struck the ground with the force of a bomb exploding. He was sent flying by the air pressure of the attack alone. A ceaseless ringing in his ears kept him from properly hearing the creature for a moment, or even being able to see straight, but his regenerative powers quickly took care of those issues.

Slightly battered, but largely unharmed, he wriggled his way to his feet and prepared to dodge again. However, the expect blow did not come. The scorpion man began to roar as he tried to pull his tail stinger free from the cold stone ground. He had embedded it deep with that strike, a clear indicator that it had not fought a fast moving target in a long time.

Blackthorne quickly scampered further into the darkness, but bid his wisp not to follow him. He took that time to try and formulate a plan. No matter what he thought up, nothing seemed like it would work. There was no way to know whether or not he could just find a way to escape the ridiculously huge beast. He would have to scour the entire arena-like area just to find a way out if possible. Fighting the thing seemed impossible. Just the air pressure from its tail attack alone could send him flying. A direct hit would kill him easily.

What could he possibly do to survive this creature? Was it divine providence, heh, or was it pure happenstance that gave him the inkling of an idea. The wisp that drew on so much of his life force to sustain itself would normally need to go. If he hid himself in the darkness, he would recover. Perhaps he might even be able to sneak around and find a way out. Clearly there was no fighting this thing. However, before he could send her away the wisp proved truly invaluable. The moment Girtablilu ripped its tail free from the ground it sought vengeance. What did it see first? Obviously, it saw the brightly shining shadow wisp!

His eyes widened then narrowed. The wisp was an easy to use lure for a monster that lived in the dark. It helped that the colossal beast also did not seem to be particularly intelligent despite its humanoid aspects. At best it might be equivalent to an incredibly stupid man.

A plan formed. Simple. Elegant. Use the wisp to distract the beast while he searched for a way out. Should he use it to distract it so he could attack? Ridiculous! The thing was like a gigantic walking tank given the apparent thickness of its shell.

Blackthorne’s plan worked well. The wisp drew the scorpion’s attention completely due to its brightness and low moans. The monster lashed at it with its tail and snapped at it with its claws. However, it could do no damage to the shadow wisp. It was a conjured spirit and had no physical mass to injure. Only magical energies could harm it.

While the scorpion was busy, Blackthorne took a moment to consider its form. It was well-balanced on its six legs but it had to lower its body and lean its humanoid parts to the side in order to attack with its tail. That might be useful knowledge. He was not certain, yet. He stared at it and realized what he had not noticed before due to the harrowing nature of their first exchange. The monster was known as a Legendary Big Daddy Scorpion. Its name, Girtablilu, the Ancient Devourer, was golden yellow, but there were streaks of black and red lightning emanating from it.

From those tidbits of information it was easy to deduce what the creature was in hindsight. It was a legendary named monster. He did not know what the hell kind of power his supposed awakening would bring, but there was no way it could match something like this thing.

The wisp danced and moaned as the aggravated scorpion man did his best to tear her to pieces. Blackthorne went in search of an exit. Several minutes passed as he quietly scampered about the area.

Soon, however, he began to despair. There was no apparent exit. While he had not managed to search every crack and crevice, it was nerve-wracking not to know if there even was a way out of the fight. The longer it took for him to search, the more certain he became that he might not be able to escape at all. At best, he might have to defeat Girtablilu to make it out.

What he was certain of was the fact that the scorpion man was growing increasingly frustrated with his prey. It would soon lose interest as it realized that he could not hurt the wisp, but the wisp could not hurt him either.

His thoughts raced furiously as he tried to come up with some way to survive. They could retreat back into the corridor, but as stupid as the scorpion man seemed to be he would not be too stupid to realize that the other side was a dead end.

Blackthorne considered changing into his midnight shadow form then drifting upward through the ceiling, but he had no way of knowing how far underground he was at the moment. If his life force gave out in the middle of all of that rock and stone, he would still die.

Unfortunately, the only chance he would have to safely test out the height of the earth above him would be once this monster was dead. If they retreated into the treasure room area, he might be lucky enough to escape through the ground above. However, if it was too deep then they would have to face this monster head on and this time it would now that they were coming. It would be waiting at the entrance.

All of those thoughts raced through his mind. In the end, only the defeat of the monster would lead to his escape. The problem was that he was not sure of how he could injure the beast, let alone kill it.

He watched its movements for a time. It did not seem to grow tired, but it did slowly begin to lose interest in the shadow wisp. However, during those few brief exchanges Blackthorne began to see patterns in how it moved.

As before, he noted that it had to make a few large movements in order to clear space to attack with its ridiculously powerful tail. At the front of its lower body, there were two massive scorpion claws. It walked on six legs, but it had to move them in specific ways to attack properly.

"There's a blind spot right there, isn't there?" he said quietly. The noise produced by Girtablilu's desperate attempts to slay the wisp masked the sound, thankfully. However, Blackthorne did not take his eyes off the prize.

Between the beast's tail and the lower part of its humanoid back there was something that looked like a sweet spot. The creature would not be able to reach him properly unless it dropped one of its swords. The pincers would not be able to reach him, and if it was even able to stab at the dragon with his tail stinger it would be just as likely to sting itself.

There was a problem, however. Part of that sweet spot was filled by spikey protrusions that were no doubt designed to defend the beast from attack from that vector. The only part of that location that he could use without accidentally skewering himself was too small for his bulky dragon form. He would need to lie down atop the beast to attack even in human form to prevent the tail from knocking him off due to its erratic movements. Worse, to do any damage to it himself he would need to either use magic and thus weaken himself in the process or extend his reach a little. That meant that his only option was to return to his human form and try to attack with some of those treasures that he had found. Of course, that meant returning to the scene of the first skirmish in order to scavenge through his sack of many treasures.

The moment that it turned its back on him completely, Blackthorne made a somewhat stealthy dash toward a nearby pile of debris. Using the waning interest of the beast, he waited for it to be distracted further away from the sack then made his way over to it. Inside he pulled a beautiful gold and ivory hilted sword with a blade that gleamed brightly even in the dimmest light. It had the appearance of a magical sword straight out of someone's wildest fantasies, but it was merely a ceremonial blade. Its damage potential was only slightly higher than an average steel sword despite its material composition. It did not even give bonus abilities.

Risking his discovery, he enchanted the sword with his ice spell. While his stronger fire spells might have done more damage, even that would probably not matter much. However, the secondary effects of an ice element weapon would cause a freezing status effect. It could slow the beast down at least. Either way, he doubt he had enough magical badassery to take the creature down regardless of what spell he used. His only hope was hit and run tactics.

Though he was a faster runner in dragon form, Blackthorne shifted into his human state instead. He needed to be able to run fast with a sword, and he might not be able to change his form quickly enough once he was in rage of the beast.

Girtablilu roared and lashed out in a frenzy of scimitar strikes. Clearly frustrated beyond any hope of reason, it was nearing the edge of sanity. How dare such a tiny little bug refuse to become his meat!

Blackthorne rushed quietly toward the raging beast. So engrossed was it with its pesky little opponent that it did not realize that there was still a second enemy to face. The moment Blackthorne landed atop the creature, naked as the day he was born save for a sword and necklace, it felt the pressure difference.

Girtablilu cried out in annoyance then tried to swat the past with his elbows. It attempted to buck him off. Once, it even attempt to sting him with his tail stinger. Not only was the angle so poor that most of the power of the blow was wasted, but it stung itself in the back.

The beast screamed in frustration as tiny cracks appeared along its carapace where it struck. Blackthorne grabbed a knobby protrusion and held on for dear life while the beast raced around the room at incredible speed. It leapt into the air. It bucked and wriggled as best it could. However, the arrogant flea refused to be dislodged.

"Hey there! Ho there!" cried Blackthorne while the behemoth monster bucked wildly in its odd arachnid fashion. The spider-lobster manthing was not pleased by the commentary any more than it was pleased by the commentator's position atop its back.

All the while, Blackthorne did his best to hold on with one hand while the beast tried its best to dislodge him. The moment it began to calm down, clearly in an effort to find a better way to remove the pest, Blackthorne stabbed between its scales in an attempt to pierce the tender flesh beneath. So thick were the plates of the beast's armor that his sword barely made it through. It granted the tiniest pinprick to the pink flesh beneath. The beast grunted in pain as a tiny bit of icy energy skittered across its unprotected flesh. It might as well have been a bee sting for all the effect that it had. Even so, the beast was livid once more. How dare this tiny fake insect attempt to sting one of such true grandeur!

Enraged beyond words, and frothing at the mouth, the creature began to dance around in a circle at incredible speed then occasionally jumped and bucked in an effort to dislodge him. It was not enough. Not enough to remove Blackthorne, nor was the beast angry enough for Blackthorne's purposes. So, the human form dragon decided to increase the dosage on his annoyance meter.

"Yee-haw!" cried Blackthorne before he slapped the creature on its carapace. "Faster daddy! Faster!"

The creature probably did not understand the language, but it could easily discern that it was being mocked. It screamed then began running around like an idiot once more.

Blackthorne took the opportunity to stab at its tender pink flesh whenever it ran in too straight of a line for more than a second or two. The tiny pin pricks did nothing but aggravate the beast unfortunately. It had been Blackthorne's sole hope that enough annoying pricks and prickish commentary could weaken the creature to the point that it could be defeated. It was a fool's hope. The beast was more angry than injured and his enchantment had already run dry.

He tried to cast Vikka' Burn on the creature's back, but its erratic movements caused the spell to go wide. It even laughed in an approximation of disdain as it saw the spell whizz by.

It was obvious to him then that he would need a new plan. The sweet spot worked, but he was not strong enough to make it worthwhile.