The court of shadows was once a coveted pool for my recreation. Toying with ambitious demon-kin, a daily delight. Standing outside Gelevic's throne room. A place where Mephistopheles once held me in high regard, awaits me like an ice bath. My skin prickles in anticipation of the deprecation to come. The others debate our options which amount to death by overwhelming odds or ancient doom. A typical sentence in hell. The old proverb between the devil and the deep blue sea seemed to apply to our situation. Excepting that our deep blue sea was a three headed dragon birthed by the universe itself. The devil was Literal in this case, though the original meaning referred to the seams between the planks on the deck of a sailing vessel. In both senses we only had a thin measure of protection between us and doom. Our seam was a buffer of one hour.

That time had elapsed and we strode into the court of Gelevic to render our decision. Calais had conducted our first encounter with Corman by his side. It looked as though we were all to enter the court proper this time. I could not hide here in the outer chamber. I would need the protection of the group. To stay behind and be discovered would leave me vulnerable.

I entered with the others near the rear of the group. The room was expansive. An enormous stained glass ceiling paled next to the diverse menagerie of demons arrayed before us.

Gelevic had always been calculating. Here in his assumed throne room he would leave nothing to chance. Though he was a formidable warrior he was easily bested by those of greater name and standing. He knew that guile was his best tool for defeating his opponents. His crooked smile suggested he was hiding something, perhaps there would be opportunity for firm ground even here in his court.

Gelevic and Calais opened up the dialogue. Calais, firm and hard sounding, announced our decision to take on the Linnorn. The full impact didn't hit me until he actually said it aloud. I could recall a time when the Linnorn was used as a metaphor certain death. No one ever really understood the reality behind the legend and it may have been an overstatement of its power. Still, If reality holds a candle to the legend we may find our options quickly fading to none.

"I see we have a visitor who is not unknown to us here." Gelevic's words seemed to clear a path between us so that I was naked before him. He had recognized me and remembered our prior association.

Gelevic had not often stumbled in his ascent to power. I had been offered to him once as a prize. A prize he would never claim. Due mostly to circumstance rather than poor planning. I had become a symbol to him of something to be corrected in his past. If I were to reveal the nature of his failing here we would be in for the fight of our lives. It was perhaps best to keep what I knew to myself and let the others dictate the terms of this encounter.

"It seems you have an additional bargaining chip in your midst. I would be moved to assuage some of your coming hardships in exchange for her company. Perhaps safe transit to the Brimstone Forest?" He had not broken form. He still desired me and his voice growled with desire.
"The deal has been struck and we are resolved to honor only those terms!" Calais authority and conviction were unwavering on this point. Was his tenacity rendered on my behalf, or was this a condition of association with him provided to all in his company? Whatever the case I was grateful for the advocate.

Gelevic did not press me further. He directed us to join his sergeant outside, who would convey us safely to the Linnorn. I could see in his eyes that cogs were turning in his head. If we were successful against the Linnorn he would not be so easily balked when we returned. Our situation might be different then, perhaps weaker.

Outside we were greeted by a company of demons. Their spiky skin a match for their armor. Banners snapped in the wind. Gelevic's circular glyph prominent in gold set against the heavy red cloth. I sensed a measure of respect from sergeant Titus on our approach. He knew the nature of our mission and would profit by our success almost as much as we would. He addressed us as we approached.
"The Linnorn lies to the north of the plaza. I am to escort you safely to the edge of his lair. I am forbidden to interfere." His voice was a mix of sand and wind working against fleshy boundaries. The spike mass that formed a brow over his goat-like eyes blended almost seamlessly with his helmet. His leathery lips parted again to speak. Rows of teeth march backward into his mouth further even than those of a shark. The remarkable thing was his enunciation in the common tongue was almost perfect. A source of pride for him to be sure. "Be careful not to stray to the west as you enter the ruins. The area near there is frozen. Locked in time as well as temperature. To enter there is to be lost with the damned souls and careless travelers.

The flap of our colors was the only song in the air as we traveled. No sound of trebuchet or cannon. We were far from the front lines, but nearer the danger. Titus called a halt as we reached the edge of the ruined city. Mist hung heavy in the air, condensing ahead of us in a light rain. The beauty that once stood here was toppled. Lone spires of stone or brick defied ruin only to be claimed by weeds and vines. It was more green here than grey or brown. The ruins had been swallowed by the more assertive plants. Calais gestured for a reforming of our ranks now that we were free of our escort. He was preparing to scout the ruins when Corman interrupted him. The two of them spoke for a moment before I cold move close enough to hear them.

The color was absent from Corman's face. When he spoke a tremor of emotion threatened to steal his voice.
"Are your certain?" Calais said incredulously. "I trust you, but I want you to be sure this is the way you want to play things."
What was Corman planning that inspired such a forlorn look from the Imperial Marshall. Calais used his practiced gaze to study every nuance of the Vorseman. Silence hung between them for a moment. Then as if finishing his appraisal Calsis relented. The look from the ranger froze my new vintage soul. Calais looked to be locking the image of the cleric warrior in his mind for a time when he would tell a story of a friend from his past. A captured moment for memory sake.
"Wait, are you sure you should go alone?" Calais said pleadingly.
"No, I want to make no show of force." He glanced over his shoulder to Enzo and Celeste. "It must be seen to have no thought for self. No intent of malice. If it believes itself to be a god--" Corman trailed off looking out into the future. "If this is to work I must be allowed to speak with it. If I'm wrong don't come to collect my ashes."
The conviction in his eyes wavered for a moment like a clear reflection in a pool of water stirred by a pebble. I have watched as the others sparred with him; strangers to his ways. He bore the chiding with dignity. This was the first time I had seen him so close to sure of himself, so close that I wanted to cry. My face flushed with heat and I was moved to support him. Before I could give voice to my desire Corman spoke.
"Perhaps there is someone who can assist me in this endeavor." Tuning his head toward me he gave me a thin smile, his hard angular face softened by it. The wind picked up tossing his amber mane across his face. His icy blue eyes almost apologetic. He knew to enlist me in his enterprise was to ask me to trust him. Trust him with everything I ever was, or was to be. My answer burst from me like a flight of pigeons freed from a cage. "I'll do it, I'll go."

I had waited for my opportunity to prove myself, my worth since my conversion. If I could be strong enough to be what he needed me to be, perhaps I would earn this skin.

I looked back as we made our way into the mossy ruins. Rainbows of small spectrum light formed halos in the mist ahead of us. The ground trembled at movement ahead of us. Clay tiles fell from their perches, adding to the scrabble. I had disposed of all but my traveling cloths and shoes. Corman wore only a tunic, breeches and leg wrappings. He looked, to me, to be a Vorseman for the first time. Noble and savage. I was still learning to adapt to my broadened range of emotions. I noticed my shoulders were so tightly knotted that I wasn't taking full breaths. I felt small, a chill working at my skin like a ghost entering a poorly warded house. I tried to find strength within me to quell the chill. I looked to Corman. Was he feeling it as well? If he had any doubts at to our mission they were not present. He seemed to radiate. Not with light, but with determination. I wanted, no needed that strength too. If I could lash my boat to his. I might--

My hand reached out for his like a lifeline. He turned as I took his hand, surprised.
"I'm sorry." I said. Confronting a new awkwardness. "I just need--" I trailed off. He shot me a wink and continued on. That small gesture spoke volumes. Gone were my doubts. The chill was chased from my body by a rush of blood from my heart.
"Thank you." I said softly.
"Thank me when we are out of this." His words a mix of humor and fact.

The mist had thickened as we pressed deeper into the ruins. A swirl of wind pushed down on us like a dust devil. The mist peeled back to reveal a row of scales laid like bricks climbing a full story before us. Above a trio of voices sounded from the center, the right and the left.

I have met my share of legendary personas and creatures in my time. Few measure up to their exaggerated authoring. On this occasion I wished the fable to be a gross exaggeration. I suppose it was too much to ask.
"I am the Linnorn. Eater of worlds. Destroyer of men and angels. You are but flies in the afterbirth of humanity." The three voices taking turns as they bore down on us. The timber of the words strong and deep like the burble of a broad river. It coiled around us like animated buildings moving in tightly to block our escape. Each head was clearly visible now. Dragon-like in many aspects. Teeth ranging in size from daggers to short swords slid perfectly past one another as the great mouth spoke. The press of its magic had the presence of heat without the pain. My skin ran with ants as its magic arced and probed.

I could barely contain my need to be anywhere but here. If I were to open my mouth it would only release a scream that was seeking release from some virginal place in my soul. Corman somehow found his voice. Honoring the great beast for its triumphs. Celebrating the span of time it has represented ruin. Dignifying all its accomplishments only to hollow out the fruit of them.
"How empty the victory if loneliness is thy reward."|
Corman's words were laced with poison. Would the Linnorn react? I could see now the direction of his thrust. If the creature did not parry now we may have an opening.
"What care to I have for company!" Ferocity building with each word.
Acid spittle hissed as it landed around us.
"Yours is the province of carelessness." He countered. "But what If I could offer you something worth caring for? A world free of these dismal ruins where a creature of your magnificence would be respected more than feared." Corman paused briefly as the creature to hesitated. "I am a follower of the old gods. My god offers greener fields for your amusement. Unless you are more comfortable in a feted swamp as reward for your prowess and power." He pressed the initial opening. Again without resistance. "As proof of my offer I present to you mistress Lilith. She too was consigned to an ignoble existence unworthy of her talents and desires. She was once demon-kind and now bears the gift of mortality. This is within the province of Dagmar and so too is your deliverance."
"He speaks true." I said mustering my courage. "Do you know me great one?"
"The sister of Eve is known to us."
"Then you know the offer is authentic. If you but allow him grace to commune you too may see a broader horizon." I made a courtly bow and drew a shuddering breath.
"You may impress me." The Linnorn boomed. "But if I am unsatisfied you too shall be added to my constitution for your transgression.
"Agreed!" Corman snapped, eager to move to the next stage in his plan.

He produced an candle from a small satchel. Assuming a position of supplication he lit the candle. His Vorseman accent thickened as he called on his god in his native dialect. Before him a ring of magical fire expanded slowly. In the center of the fire a swirling of vapors reflected the light of the candle. As I stared into the breach I noticed a flicker. Corman had moved slightly from where he was an instant before. Before him was a girthy bearded man. He wore sheep skin leggings and a coat of mail. At his side hung the axe of warrior. He was simple an noble at once. An aura of divinity clung to him. Had I missed something?
I had missed more than a moment of time. Perhaps a minute or two had transpired and I had missedformal introductions.
The fatherly venerable warrior turned to me, but spoke to Corman.
"Who is this beauty at your side?" He winked on the side away from Corman's view. "I find myself in good company for this adventure."
Corman started to make introductions when he realized the jest. Dagmar was instrumental in my new life and I was apparently significant to him as well.
Dagmar addressed the ancient wyrm next. Even for one in his state of grace the Linnorn would not be easily cowed.

I watched and listened as the two of them angled for position and authority. The linnorn was, as expected, an evasive catch. In time Dagmar one out. The Linnorn, resign to its new life, entered the gate and departed this framework for the last time. During the discussion between the Linnorn and Dagmar I learned an interesting perspective. The tale of the Cuthbertian birth of the Linnorn was an exaggeration of sorts. Its birthplace predated followers Cuthbert. Dagmar had said that at the birth of the new religion the good incarnation of the Cuthbertian pantheon enlisted the aid of the great beast to quell a rebellion.

When they had gone I realized how much energy I had been spending just to maintain my poise. I nearly buckled at the knee as soon as I dropped my guard. Corman moved to catch me, but I had recovered myself before he could cross to catch me. I stopped his approach by raising my palm to him in a gesture of pause. He complied with my wishes and turned his gaze back toward the group. I was aware that he made no overt overtures toward me. Something I found slightly annoying. A woman, even a woman of my gilding liked to know she was desirable. I had had no designs on him, but I craved a challenge. Would teasing be too much for him or had Dagmar warded him against my wiles.

Soon we were back with the others. If I could have captured the look on their faces with canvas and brush it would have been priceless. The sergeant of Gelevic's guard verified our accomplishment before we departed. Our position was secure and Gelevic would have no advantage over us. As promised Gelevic delivered us safely on our way.