/lit/ - Literature

>>2482739

no, nothing like lolita at all.

>>2482730

I'm looking for books with child protagonists, not books with paedophilic themes and a middle aged protagonist

>>2482716

I'm lazy and clicked the first link to come up when I searched Peado

>>2482649

>Implying 'peado' is an alternate spelling for 'pedo' which is itself an alternate spelling

Common mistake, should actually be spelled Paedo (paedophile).
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Peado

'pedo' however is an alternate spelling for 'paedo'


/lit/ you dissappoint me

Also, unabashed self bump. I haven't read a good book in months, help me /lit/

>>2482614

>on /lit/
>Can not spell Pedo correctly
>mfw

Recommend some good books with child protagonists to me /lit/
I've become fascinated with them since I read 'Let The Right One In'

>>1771737

Thank you. I was a little leery of the ending, but I wanted to showcase the fact that battle is natural to the bjorn, and once they're done fighting they pretty much go home and resume life as normal.

>>1771751

Disappointing mostly. The style was consistent and good throughout (IMO), but the ending left much to be desired. Depending on the edition, King will pause the story and recommend that you stop.

As someone who didn't stop, I second his recommendation.

Hiss! I am a biscuit.

Over the skillet.

The blue penguin flies!

The monster in my closet is just a sweater.


Wrote that back in high school and got an A. I went for nonsense poetry in hopes that it wouldn't be analyzed to death in one of our class discussions.

Thus ending the tale of Asgeir Thunderpaw, King of Hjálmer.

What does /lit/ think of it? I had fun writing it, and hopefully you enjoy reading it.

“We are free,” Prince Dafydd said. The elf lord wiped the blood of his foes from his face. “But at a cost.”

Asgeir Thunderpaw nodded. “But we have destroyed a great evil, Dafydd of Choedwig, Slayer of a Thousand Men. Vadik the Black is dead and Elleswhaer is free from the Iron Kingdoms.”

“What will you do when you return to Hjálmer?” the elf lord said to Asgeir.

“I shall find a female and create another son,” Asgeir declared with a fierce grin. “For that is the way of things! I am a björn! My life is battle and has not yet ended!”

Asgeir gathered his drengr björn champions and with them carried the body of Skjöldr the Blessed back to the mountains. The two elf lords watched him go.

Sulien whistled sharply, summoning his falcon to his side. He gripped his spear loosely.

“Long live Asgeir Thunderpaw, King of the Björn.”

Asgeir tore the head from one man and ripped the limbs off of the body of another. His son Gunnar crushed tens with his maul, offering all of them to the Old Gods in praise. Eirik the Axe feasted upon the hearts of two score Men, and when Skjöldr the Blessed was slain by the combined effort of three and thirty Men, he recovered the hide shield and bore his brother in arms away from the battlefield.

Prince Dafydd crushed the skulls of seventy Men before the battle’s end. Fayne the Archer let fly arrow after arrow until she was slain by the fiend summoned by Kira, who Sulien killed with a throw of his spear. The heroes of björn and elf continued fighting until their skins were soaked in blood and their arms were heavy like leaden weights.

Asgeir brought down his hammer one last time, caving in the skull of the final living Man and ending the battle.

He could feel their strength flowing through his veins; their might forced his heart to beat again. Asgeir reached for his hammer and held it in his iron grip. He roared as he rose to his feet. Asgeir pointed at Vadik with his free hand as he drew back his arm to throw his mighty hammer, a gift from the gods themselves.

“Vadik the Black!” he roared over the din of battle. “Your rule ends this day! I am Asgeir Thunderpaw, king of the björn, Goblinbane and Giantfoe, Slayer of Cadoc, and Destroyer of the Black God!”

A bolt of lightning struck Asgeir’s hammer as the björn threw it at Vadik. It spun end over end seven times before striking the sorcerer king in the temple and snapping the Man’s neck. Vadik’s sword fell from his hand and into the dirt. Its fires ceased to burn.

The armies of Man and the champions of björn and elf ceased their fighting to watch Vadik sway and fall to the ground. As his body struck earth, the clouds opened up and poured rain down upon the battlefield to wash away the blood that had been spilt.

“Come drengr björn and elf lords, let us wash away this blight upon Elleswhaer,” Asgeir roared. “Kill every last Man that swore fealty to Vadik the Black and the Iron Throne!”

The spirit of Asgeir Thunderpaw, king of the björn, travelled to the heavens to be judged by the Old Gods and the spirits of his ancestors. He walked along the slopes of the Great Mountain to stand before the five beings he had worshipped all his life.

“You have arrived too early King Asgeir Thunderpaw,” the first of five said.

“Why is it that you try to enter the blessed realm before your time?” the second demanded.

“I was slain by Vadik the Black,” Asgeir said.

“You failed your people when they needed you most,” the third god declared.

“Heroes enter our realm, not the weak and undeserving,” the fourth god said.

“Return to Elleswhaer, Asgeir Thunderpaw,” the fifth and final god demanded. “Slay Vadik the Black and free your people!”

The Old Gods breathed on Asgeir, dissolving his spirit. The king of the björn’s mind exploded in agony as he was returned to his physical form. The sounds of battle and death were thick about him as he opened his eyes.

“We are with you,” a chorus of voices, the Old Gods, whispered to Asgeir.

“I am my own god!” he roared as fire burst forth from his hands, surrounding Asgeir.

The mighty björn king fell back, screaming in pain as the flames ate away at his flesh. His drengr björn and the elfs were forced to watch as their champion fell to the ground and ceased moving.

Vadik, the treacherous king of Men, raised his arms, this time in victory. He declared himself a god and ruler of all of Elleswhaer. His men pointed their spears and swords at the drengr björn and elf lords who had come down from the mountain to battle the god-king of the Iron Throne.

“Kill them all,” Vadik demanded. “Let their blood feed the soil of Elleswhaer.”

The Men moved in to kill the drengr björn and elf lords, but they were met with resistance. Skjöldr the Blessed killed twelve with a single swipe of his axe and crushed twice that with his powerful shield. Gunnar leapt over the Men and stood by the body of his father and crushed the skulls of all those who dared defile it further. Eirik the Axe stood at Skjöldr’s back and cleaved three Men in twain with his axe and ripped out and consumed the hearts of seven more with his claws and maw.

Of the elf lords Fayne the Archer slew twenty and eight Men with her deadly arrows, which she had poisoned with sap of a rare flower from Choedwig. Sulien Goldeneyes ran his foes through with his powerful spear while directing his falcon to claw out their eyes. Dafydd swung his mighty club back and forth, cutting those who stood before him to ribbons with the sharp pieces of obsidian that he had placed in the weapon.

Asgeir raised his hammer to deflect the blow, sending wide far and to the left. The björn king slashed at Vadik the Black with his mighty claws, but they failed to do more than scratch the enamel on the sorcerer’s armor. As Vadik brought his sword down to cut Asgeir in two, the björn twisted like a serpent and struck the Man in the side of the leg with his hammer. Vadik gasped in shock and pain, but continued his attack, which caught Asgeir’s shoulder. The blade tore through the layers of Asgeir’s armor as if they were little more than silk, and the mighty björn king roared in agony as the flames bit into his flesh.

With the fury of his mighty gods, Asgeir swung his hammer, smashing it into Vadik’s chest, cracking armor and breaking the bones beneath. His strike did not go unanswered for long. The Iron King punched Asgeir on the side of the face with a spiked gauntlet and cut open the björn’s back with a stroke from his sword.

The sun marched across the sky as the two foes traded blows. Vadik fell to the ground as the sun began to sink below the western edge of Elleswhaer, and Asgeir stood over him, hammer poised to strike.

“Prayer to the false gods you serve for your soul,” Asgeir demanded.

Vadik uttered words, but they were not any prayer.

>>1771699

Thank you kind anon, I shall proceed.

The Man laughed and rose from his throne, drawing his great sword in the process.

“Who is so foolish as to face the Black God in combat?” Vadik hissed. “Who is it that wishes for their soul to be consumed by my blade?”

Vadik the Black stepped through the portal and into the ring formed by his minions, who all cheered at the sight of their god-king. The sorcerer king raised his arms and shouted a word, filling the skies with thunderheads and making his sword sweat fire.

“Foolish björn,” he said. “I am Vadik, the Black God and ruler of the Iron Throne, Conqueror of Elleswhaer and Slayer of the dragon Daarjanikup! What claims do you have that make you worthy to fight me?”

“I am Asgeir Thunderpaw!” Asgeir roared at the sorcerer. “King of the björn, Goblinbane, Giantfoe, and Slayer of Cadoc. Soon I shall add Killer of Vadik and Defender of Elleswhaer to my titles, foolish and weak sorcerer!”

Vadik the Black merely laughed and swung his great and terrible sword at Asgeir.

“Let us see!”

Before the björn and the elfs a cabal of sorcerers and sorceresses gathered, encircling Kira. They began chanting fell words of dark and forgotten magicks that had been better left forgotten. The sight of ten thousand enemies could not put fear in the hearts of Asgeir or his drengr björn, but the words pouring forth from the lips of these Men made even the mighty king uneasy.

“They corrupt Elleswhaer herself with these words,” Dafydd said in a low voice. “Whatever comes for to answer their call must be slain, lest we all perish.”

Asgeir nodded and tightened his grip on his hammer.

The sun climbed from the far east to the center of the sky before the Men finished their invocations. One by one the sorcerers fell to the ground dead, except for Kira. Their bodies became immolated in the flames that formed the gate from the battlefield to the Iron Throne, a site of power many weeks away as the horseman rides.

Asgeir Thunderpaw knew no fear and stared directly into the gate and beheld Vadik the Black, the sorcerer king and ruler of the Iron Throne. He was a towering Man, nearly as tall and broad as Asgeir himself. The sorcerer was encased in bronze armor adorned with spikes and images of fiends, dragons, and skulls. From beneath the gaps in the armor flowed a reddish light as though Vadik was forged from the very fires of Hell. His eyes glowed red with malice and thoughts of destruction, but their gaze failed to strike terror in the heart of Asgeir.

“Come forth and face me sorcerer!” he demanded of Vadik.

“Tell your cowardly king Vadik the Black that I, Asgeir Thunderpaw, wish to face him in single combat,” Asgeir demanded of the woman. “And let that battle determine the result of his damnable war for Elleswhaer.”

“My king does not answer to peasantry such as you,” Kira said in a voice full of venom and scorn.

In his rage, Asgeir hurled his hammer, a weapon forged by the Old Gods themselves out of the heart of a mountain. It struck one of the fiends flanking Kira, killing it instantly.

“My next one will not miss its true target,” the björn king said with a roar. His son Gunnar recovered the hammer and returned it to his father and king.

The woman’s dark eyes flashed and she turned to her soldiers.

“Gather the sorcerers,” she demanded. “Let us call forth Vadik the Black to send these beasts to Hell.”

The Men cheered as they ran to summon the sorcerers. Calls of praise for Vadik the Black filled the air all around Asgeir’s björn and Dafydd’s elfs. Men wearing armor forged from the blackest metals formed a ring around their enemies, cutting them off from retreat.

But Asgeir did not have retreat on his mind. His thoughts were of victory and death.

The mighty and noble Asgeir, lord of the björn, placed snout in paw once more as he thought.

“I shall challenge the Iron King to single combat!” he declared. “To see who truly deserves to rule Elleswhaer.”

The drengr björn cheered in approval while the elf lords shook their heads, for they knew that Vadik the Black would not agree to such terms. The Iron King knew nothing of honor, only merciless bloodshed.

But Asgeir could not be swayed. The king of the björn picked up his hammer and marched down to the camps of the legions of the Iron Kingdom. He was accompanied by his son Gunnar, Skjöldr the Blessed, and Eirik the Axe, his remaining drengr björn champions. Dafydd rallied his remaining champions and followed the mighty björn king to what he believed would be the death of them all.

Asgeir Thunderpaw was stopped by the guards of the camp, but he pushed his way through and demanded to see Vadik the Black, ruler of the Iron Throne. He was instead met by the sorceress Kira, a queen amongst the race of Men.

So it continued for four more days during which Dafydd ended the lives of ninety Men, Skjöldr slew and ate the hearts of seventy legionnaires, Gunnar killed sixty Men, Eirik defeated eighty Men and three of their fiendish servants, Sulien and Fayne together killed one hundred and thirty Men, and Asgeir alone slayed more than eight score Men from the south. Rhain the Horseman fell on the second day defending his soldiers from six fiends summoned by the sorcerers serving Vadik the Black.

Of the hundred elfs that rode to Asgeir’s aid, only sixty remained alive. Of the drengr björn that had marched behind Asgeir Thunderpaw to defeat these weak Men, seventy were still able to fight. Seventy and sixty against the hundreds of legionnaires that continued to draw breath.

“Our enemy outnumbers us greatly,” Prince Dafydd said to King Asgeir at dusk of the fifth day of combat. “We cannot hope to stand against them.”

“We cannot retreat,” Asgeir said to Dafydd. “For such is cowardice and unbecoming of a drengr björn. Not even a weakling ósterkligr björn would retreat for fear that it would bring dishonor upon his tribe.”

“What then shall we do?” Dafydd demanded.

It was nearly midday when the Men were within a bowshot of the camp, and so it was nearly midday before the battle begun. Dafydd ordered his elfs to rain death upon the evil Men of the south, and before the sun marched another inch in the sky, the mountainside became slick with the blood of Vadik the Black’s soldiers. When the soldiers found the mountain path that lead to the camp, Skjöldr the Blessed and Gunnar Thunderpaw and twenty drengr björn were there to meet them. Skjöldr sent several of the Men falling to their deaths with a sweep of his mighty shield, which had been made from the bones and hide of the mighty mastodon. His axe cleaved a champion of Men in twain. Gunnar swung his maul back and forth, breaking the bones and armor of tens of Men. The fur of both björn heroes was red with the blood of their enemies within an hour’s count, but they knew neither weariness nor cowardice, and continued to kill their enemies.

Elfs led by Sulien and Fayne rode through secret paths to circle about the main force of Men that had foolishly marched up the side of the mountain. With his bow and falcon, Sulien slew two score of his enemies, and half that again with his spear. Fayne trampled a dozen with her horse, and when it became lame from the spears of the Men, she killed them with her club. The Men retreated before nightfall, leaving Sulien, Fayne, and their elfs soaked in the blood of a hundred fallen legionnaires.