/lit/ - Literature

>>22561726
Yeah, filtered by some of the most boring, forced prose I've ever had to read in a fantasy novel.
>He looked down at his thin arms, wet with cold fogdew, and raged at his weakness, for he knew his strength.
>No weapon-hurt had come to the boy, but he would not speak nor eat nor sleep; he seemed not to hear what was said to him, not to see those who came to see him.
>One Karg fell writhing with a spear, still warm from its forging, right through his body. Others were arrow-bitten, and all enraged. They charged forward then to hew down their puny attackers, but they found only the fog about them, full of voices.
>So a few days later on a sunny morning of spring Ogion strode beside him down the steep road from the Overfell, fifteen miles to the Great Port of Gont. There at the landgate between carven dragons the guards of the City of Gont, seeing the mage, knelt with bared swords and welcomed him.
"fogdew"
"weapon-hurt"
Lol.