So they fought, and they fought, and a Viking dropped from the sky again after having vanished off the face of the world, and it was all well and good. Ba'al would admit that the thing had sheer stamina going for it, but not much else by all appearances. After all, he was the most important person here (Excepting perhaps King Arthur over there), and he was relatively unharmed. Showed what that dragon knew, didn't it. Of course, he conveniently neglected to consider the fact that he was fighting at long range, and not actually doing that much damage, but what did you expect from an egotistical bastard?

And then things went to hell as the undead dragon attacked the thing, which went fine until the thing recovered, ripped it apart, engulfed itself in a cocoon of that miasma stuff, and emerged ass a blindingly radiant dragon, pretty much all their damage undone, and it treating them like worms. Wonderful. 

"Very impressive," he called out to Sorin sarcastically. "I can see why they consider you a master sorcerer." The floor was covered with miasma now, and he recoiled reflexively, glad that his symbiote couldn't smell this directly. It was disgusting. Still, he had to be in it, and it was obvious now that the dragon intended as much to kill them, if draconic expressions were anything to go by. 

Still, just as it stepped up it's game, so too did his competitors, Saber revealing Excalibur to light from it's invisibility, the annoying flying girl shooting a...heart powered laser of some kind at it and the taller man materializing more swords from nothingness. Now that was a useful trick if anything, Ba'al admitted. Once more he wished for his own blade, or a staff weapon, hell, even a regular gun! This Zat was useful, but it hadn't been the pinnacle of effectiveness against enemies thus far. 

So while they fought, he did the smart thing and hid, eager to avoid drawing it's attention, letting him competitors do what they could, and waiting for an opening. His weapon wouldn't be able to do any damage if it couldn't hit the dragon directly, and while he could shoot for the eyes or the mouth, as far as he could tell it would just be a waste of power. it wasn't like the thing could breathe fire or such. So until he knew he could do something, he'd stay safely out of harms way, and think of the long game, as he usually did.