For this first assignment, I am describing my dragon pentacle necklace. My mother purchased it for me from the small selection of items on the clearance table at Dragon Realm on Main Street here in New Paltz. I have since replaced the fabric cord with one of nearly identical properties, but the pendent remains the same as the day it first came into my possession, weathered only by time, travel, and wear. 

The pendant is constructed of a thin flexible metal with properties similar to those of pewter. It is a light silvery grey, and reflects the light in patterns that dance on the slightly raised edges of the structures. When held in one’s palm, it is surprisingly light, as if it could take up in flight at any moment, yet it emanates a sense of grounded protection and strength. For the uniformed, a pentacle is a symbol consisting of a pentagram, shaped like an upright star, inside of a circle. This circle is 1 ⅛ in diameter. Each straight line of star section is just under 1 inch, and the dragon, when measured wingtip to wingtip, is 1/16th shy of being exactly 2 inches long. 

The points of the star are connected to the outer circle on four points, but the top point has a thin slice where it is no longer connected to the outer circle. The metal is darker at the points of overlapping intersection in the star design, while the outer circle is lighter in color and the most thin on the top third of the circle, making it extremely fragile and easy to bend back and forth with light pressure from the fingers in opposing directions. One can bend the star outside of the circle into a more three-dimensional shape, although the two thin scratches where the outer circle could easily break off completely become more prominent with each experimental push. I am thinking of gluing or somehow securing it soon, as I am afraid of the pendant breaking. 

The piece is cool to the touch, and carries an aroma of the musty “Witch City Wicks” scent “Holy Ground” of Salem, Massachusetts mixed with the smoky, pine-gilded ember air of “Dragonfire & Brimstone” perfume oil. Underneath this first layer, there is s slightly dingy, iron-y metallic scent. 

The wings are bat-like, and evoke a leathery, or perhaps scaly, texture despite their metal material. The wings curl upwards at the end in a proud display of flight as they complete the bottom third of the outer circle. The left wing (or the right, if we are positioned in a way similar to the creature), has a larger ridged spike than that of the other wing. The same spot on the other wing feels jarringly rough and sharp—though not enough to elicit any sort of cut or injury from feeling it—as though it once was adorned with a similar spike, only to have lost it from wear and tear. 

The head tapers down into a reptilian snout with two miniscule indentations that seem to mimic nostrils. Past the bridge of the nose, there are two darker depressions in the material where one would expect eye sockets, which lead to two gently curving horns and a raised back spine. The placement of the horn-like structures is evocative of where one might draw eyebrows on a more humanoid figure. The figure is positioned so that, when worn, the creature is facing downwards towards the floor (assuming the wearer is upright). The creature wears a somewhat placid expression—although I realize it can be difficult to read an expression without a lower jaw and therefore no mouth, a fact we have all become familiar with through wearing masks on the lower halves of our faces these past few years. The face is scuffed up with worry lines under the eye sockets, as well as other shallow indentations, adding to the overall structure and dimension of the intricate head.

When observed from a new angle, the entire piece is remarkably flat, and appears as though soaring horizontally, the head and wings dissipating into a remarkable side-profile of the rotund pentacle body. Only the head is raised, with the eye and forehead area tapering down into the snout. The bottom side of the head, where the lower jaw would rest if this creature had one, has a considerably large indentation. It is smooth, and allows the top half of the face to be raised on the other side. The cord of the necklace is laced through a small hole at the top of the pendant. When laid out end to end, it is 2ft 7 and ¾ inches. It is just about 1/16th of an inch in width, and is made of a black, slightly stretchy fabric material.

The cord is round, flexible, and soft to the touch, not unlike a worn rope or piece of twine might be. Due to its round and thin nature, I frequently refer to this type of necklace as a “lo mein noodle”. Each end feels slightly harder than the rest of the cord, and uneven in such a way that they may have been burned or singed to prevent extreme fraying. Despite this effort, there remain (or perhaps have come into being) some small fibers sticking out in random directions on the edge. Upon closer inspection, one can see that the cord is composed of many smaller threads that have been weaved or otherwise intertwined together to create a single larger whole. 

Fig. 1.1 Front view of pendant

Fig. 1.2 Back view of pendant

Fig. 1.3A Side view of pendant

Fig. 1.3B Slanted side view of pendant

Fig. 1.4 Pendant with full attached necklace cord