At the City Lord's Mansion
High above the chaos, Alix stands on the balcony, cloak fluttering gently. The horizon is stained with dust and blood, yet his silver eyes pierce it all like he stands amidst the carnage.
Every beast.
Every soldier.
Every strike of Vordon's blade.
Nothing escapes his sight.
Below the balcony, the city is tense and silent, everyone watching the battle with held breath.
Zevran stands beside him, arms crossed, golden eyes narrowing as he observes the distant clash.
"Master," he rumbles, wings twitching, "do we help them?"
Alix does not answer immediately. His gaze remains fixed on the battlefield where the Dreadmaw Lizard finally collapses under Varon's lightning strike, charred and unmoving.
Then he speaks, calm and coldly certain.
"No need," he says. "Looks like they already won."
Zevran watches Alix's expression — relaxed, unbothered.
----
Back in the battlefield
"ROOOOOAAAAARRRR!!"
