Baldur's Gate II: Throne of Bhaal by Drew Karpyshyn

Author:Drew Karpyshyn [Karpyshyn, Drew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Forgotten Realms
ISBN: 9780786919857
Google: lYYKHQAACAAJ
Amazon: 078691985X
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast
Published: 2001-04-15T07:00:00+00:00

Abdel drew a slow, shuddering breath as consciousness returned. Too weak to open his eyes, he was still able to sense he was indoors now. Someone had moved him from where he collapsed in the street. By the faint sting of smoke and ash he could taste on his tongue he guessed he was still somewhere in the burning city of Saradush.

He took another deep breath. A cool mist spread down into his chest, the moist cloud soothing his scarred throat and lungs. His hearing, destroyed by the dragon’s battle cry, had returned enough for him to detect the monotonous droning of a religious chant echoing from far above.

Struggling against his own weariness, he opened his eyes and found himself lying naked on a cold stone floor, staring up at a high arched ceiling. The walls and roof were adorned with elaborately painted images of men and women suffering from disease, injury, and torture—though their expressions showed not torment, but relief. Common to each scene was the figure of a cowled man, his sympathetic face stained with tears. Abdel recognized the portrait of Ilmater, the crying god.

It was then that he realized he felt no pain, even though he was lying on his horribly burned back. Unsure if his natural healing abilities had finally kicked in or if there was another explanation, he forced himself to sit up. The effort blinded him, as stars momentarily filled his vision.

“Thank Ilmater you’re alive!” Melissan’s voice exclaimed through the glittering tapestry.

Abdel heard the sound of scampering feet and a second later felt the familiar embrace of Imoen as she wrapped her thin arms around Abdel’s massive neck. “Abdel,” she cried, pressing herself against his obviously completely healed back, “I thought I’d lost you.”

As he wrapped his massive arms around his half-sister and hugged her back, the stars in his vision began to vanish. Abdel found himself surrounded by not only Imoen and Melissan but by several robed figures anxiously studying his every movement. No doubt it had been these priests of Ilmater who had saved him from his injuries.

There was little time to waste on thanks. “Jaheira?” he asked hesitantly, looking directly at Melissan. The tall woman turned away.

Imoen released her grip and withdrew from Abdel, her face heavy with grief. “The dragon took her,” she said softly.

Abdel gently pushed Imoen away and rose slowly to his feet. Seeing something in his eyes, the robed figures took several steps back from the warrior who now towered over them, clad only in the charred remnants of his clothes. Melissan held her ground.

“I am truly sorry, Abdel,” she said.

Launching himself at her, Abdel managed to wrap his hand around her throat before anyone else had a chance to react. With his hands squeezing ever tighter he lifted her off the ground, her heels kicking feebly in the air. The priests of Ilmater reacted with horrified gasps but made no move to intercede on Melissan’s behalf.

“Abdel!” Imoen screamed, leaping on his back and futilely trying to pry his hands from Melissan’s neck.

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