Baldur's gate II_ throne of Bhaal - Drew Karpyshyn [4]
"We need a few hours, Abdel. At least." Jaheira sighed before continuing. "That should be enough for Imoen to get back on her feet, but she won't last long, even then. A week of bed rest wouldn't be enough to get her back to full strength at this stage. Imoen is not like you, Abdel… not anymore. Not since Irenicus stole your father's essence from her soul."
Abdel nodded. "A few hours then." Jaheira might be stronger than Imoen, but Abdel could tell she too was suffering from sleep deprivation and exhaustion. The large warrior felt only the faintest hint of fatigue in his own massive muscles, but the life force of a god dwelt within him. "You rest, my love. I'll stand watch."
Jaheira shook her head slightly, too tired to give a more emphatic response. "Not yet. I think I can find something to revive us a little bit. Some mint, or some ginseng root, maybe. Not much, but it will help."
There was no point in arguing with her, Abdel realized. Despite her exhaustion, Jaheira's will was as adamant as ever. She was determined to seek out some beneficial plant or herb in the undergrowth of the surrounding forest, and nothing he said would change her mind. Offering to explore the bushes himself would be pointless-Jaheira was a druid, a servant of the balance and of nature. She might recognize the medicinal and recuperative value of the nearby flora, but Abdel himself would have no clue. During his years as a mercenary and hired blade, the sellsword had picked up some basic survival knowledge. Here in the southern tip of Tethir Forest the plants were completely alien to Abdel's eyes.
"Don't go far," Abdel warned.
Jaheira gave a slight nod in response and vanished into the thick darkness of the woods.
Imoen rested fitfully, mumbling and twitching often as she lay on the cold ground. Abdel could do little but watch and curse those who hunted them. If he was alone, he could stand and fight. For anyone but Abdel, such a thought would have been ludicrous, and until recently, even he would not have considered the idea.
As a teenager Abdel had been bigger and stronger than most of the grown men he had encountered, and as an adult Abdel was perhaps the largest, most imposing human on the face of Faerun. Standing seven feet tall, the heavily muscled young man had carved out a reputation for himself as a blade for hire, mercenary, bodyguard, warrior-as a sellsword, Abdel had done it all. Then he had learned the truth that would forever change his life.
Abdel was the son of the Lord of Murder, the offspring of the god Bhaal. A dead god, true, but a god nonetheless. The identity of his father had turned Abdel into a fugitive on the run, pursued by enemies and bounty hunters wherever he went. His lineage had also changed Abdel's life in even more astonishing ways. He was evolving, physically changing. He still looked like a normal, if remarkably large, human man, but he wasn't human. Not anymore. Jaheira called him an avatar-a physical manifestation of his immortal father.
Being an avatar had its share of advantages. Abdel's body had become a vessel for the essence of Bhaal. Even for his enormous size he was freakishly strong. Somehow his body was now able to draw on the immortal essence contained within to replenish itself, healing grievous and even fatal injuries at an astounding rate. Abdel's endurance, strength, and physical prowess were unmatched throughout the lands of Faerun. His power was growing. Every day Abdel felt himself becoming stronger, felt his abilities passing further and further beyond the limiting thresholds of mortality.
His remarkable regenerative powers could now render the arrows and blades of his enemies