Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [12]
With his companions safely guarded by his own body, Abdel seized the black shaft of the weapon embedded in his left arm with his free hand. He barely noticed the strange red runes intricately painted onto the dark wood as he yanked the missile out from his flesh, further damaging his already wounded arm. Agonizing white pain seared his soul, momentarily blinding Abdel. The big man grunted and tried to shake off the effect.
Pain for Abdel was meaningless, a useless byproduct of his mortal life, an evolutionary mechanism lesser organisms relied on to warn them of potentially lethal damage to their bodies. For Abdel, that warning could serve no purpose. All pain was transitory, all damage inflicted only temporary.
Abdel stared down at his wound to watch the regenerative process. Occasionally, his mind was still fascinated by the instantaneous healing abilities of his own body. But something strange happened, or rather, didn't happen. The thick blood welling up from the ragged hole in Abdel's arm didn't abate. The tattered fragments of hanging skin around the edges of the gaping hole had not begun to mend themselves, the severed muscle tissue was still severed. Staring down at his hemorrhaging wound, Abdel was momentarily stunned by the dawning realization of his own vulnerability.
He heard the faint, unmistakable twang of a bowstring, and he spun his body to the right as he ducked down. The arrow that would have pierced his eye whizzed past his ear, and the arrow that would have buried itself in his heart struck him in the meat of his left shoulder.
Only the soft voice of Imoen kept Abdel from charging blindly into the undergrowth in pursuit of the invisible assailant, the arrow still dangling from his shoulder. "Wait, Abdel."
The confidence in her voice surprised Abdel, and he hesitated a split second-a hesitation that saved his life. The sharp hiss of another arrow split the air, the missile arcing toward the dried blood on Abdel's unprotected throat. A foot away from where the big warrior stood, the arrow changed direction, and landed harmlessly on the surrounding undergrowth.
Amazed, Abdel turned to stare down at his younger sibling. Jaheira had bound Imoen's arm with a tight wrap, and the slim girl was now sitting up. She flashed him a smile.
"A minor enchantment I learned while studying at Candlekeep. If we stay close, the arrows can't harm us."
Abdel nodded and raised his blade. Jaheira was up beside him an instant later, gently working the shaft of the arrow free from his shoulder. The sellsword flinched as another feathered shaft ricocheted off mere inches from his face, then laughed at his own reaction.
"If you want me," he called out, "you'll have to come out and face me!"
There was the sound of a blade being unsheathed, and a tall, dark-haired woman clad all in gray stepped into the clearing. In each hand she artfully balanced a rapier. Abdel noticed the thin blades did not reflect the magical illumination Jaheira had cast over the clearing, but seemed to absorb the light. Flecks of red on the twin blades merely confirmed what he already knew: Like the strange arrows, these weapons could do permanent damage to his body.
"I've killed greater Bhaalspawn than you," the woman hissed as she slowly advanced. "I am one of the Five, and your blood is mine!"
From the way the woman held her blades-spread wide before her, one high, the other low-Abdel could tell she was skilled in more than just wielding a bow. Anxious to keep Jaheira and Imoen out of danger, and no longer needing Imoen's magical shield to guard against incoming arrows, Abdel stepped forward to meet his foe.
His left arm dangled uselessly by his side. The blood still pouring out made Abdel feel sluggish and weak. The woman flicked her wrist, and one of her blades sliced a deep cut across Abdel's cheek.
The warrior swore to himself. Caught completely off guard by the quickness of her attack, he had barely been able to lean back far enough to avoid losing an eye. He brought his own heavy sword to bear, carving a wide arc