Linnorms are the primordial dragons, creatures out of myth, out of time, out of the fey realms, out of the jaws of angry Nature. For GMs who remember when a dragon’s breath and claws were more feared than its spells, linnorms are a return to the classics. For GMs who like to create a strong sense of place, linnorms signal the far North and the end of civilization. And for GMs who like grand stories, linnorms’ death curses force PCs to reckon with the consequences of their actions, reminding them that sagas demand sacrifices.
Like something out of the tale of Sigeert, a talking magpie tells adventurers of a place of ambush from which they can strike a crag linnorm a mortal blow. The magpie is actually the familiar of a green hag who wants the linnorm’s wealth and territory for her own. She is counting on the dragon’s death curse to finish off the meddling heroes.
Two bronze dragons accompanying a party north halt at a certain defile, beyond which they say no dragon but the blizzard-loving whites may go. North is the Lair of the Linnorms, and the bronzes must negotiate safe passage or be hunted down by the hungry, jealous crag linnorms.
A dying dryad queen’s curse splits her great oak tree with a bolt of lightning. From it pour quicklings, gray renders, and crag linnorm destined to seek out those who felled the queen.
—Pathfinder Bestiary 190