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Jo'clatth'mattric, the dragon of Croatia, was a powerful Wyrm beast. It threatened all the surrounding lands until it was destroyed thanks to the heroic sacrifice of the pure breed Arkady Iceclaw, from House Crescent Moon of the Silver Fangs and by having its heart pierced by John North Wind's Son's Ice Spear.

Excerpts from Tribe Novel: Wendigo[]

"The mighty, plumed dragon soared in the sky, its shadow below sweeping over the forest, ever following behind but always managing to keep up. The animals of the woods looked up in awe when they saw the majestic beast, and they cried out to it, hoping it would answer their call and come to hear their plea, for all knew it to be a good judge and noble mediator whose rulings were seen as wise by all parties. None felt wronged by its advice, and all grew in understanding whatever they heeded him. All honored the great dragon Macheriel.

Even this peerless one, however, answered to a greater power. He soared high so that he might espy his master, the Great Wyrm That Binds the Earth. When this elder being's scales could be seen, Macheriel would gyre downward to earth and alight upon them. He would snuggle his head and neck under the warm, metallic scales and listen to the beating of blood in the elder serpent's heart. Such drumbeats hid messages, wisdom to all who could hear it, ways in which its servants might maintain the Balance of the world and keep the forces of chaos and order coupled in loving embrace rather than fractious dispute.

But the day came when Macheriel saw not his master's scales, but a silken cocoon wrapped about them, suffocating the Great Wyrm. The elder serpent writhed in its bonds, but the Weaver Spider who spun them did not heed its cries. Macheriel dove downward and raked his talons at the Spider, but she moved quickly and rolled to the side. As Macheriel shot upward again, she spun forth a web, snatching his tail. The dragon struggled against the web, but it would not break. The Spider yanked her silky cord and pulled the dragon to the earth.

He plummeted and smashed his head against stone, and ceased to move. The Spider went back to her weaving, ignoring the dead dragon. But he did not die. He arose later, shaking his injured head, looking about with blurry eyes. His master was gone. In its place he found a huge cocoon, impossible to penetrate.

Macheriel wailed in despair, for he could not reach the drumbeat of his master's heart. He crawled upon the ground for leagues, crying and roaring in fear and anger. He had forgotten how to fly. As he crawled across the hard, sharp rocks, his feathers fell out, leaving only black, leathery skin. When he finally reached the woods where the animals who knew him dwelt, they could not recognize him. They screamed in horror at this strange new beast that now came at them, moaning in misery.

Their fear angered him. Had he not served them well all these years, solving their disputes for them? How dare they run from him now, in his time of greatest need! He lurched forward and gnashed at the slowest among them, digging his teeth into the poor creature. He liked the taste of it.

"I take back that which I freely gave," he cried, and withdrew his judgments so that no one who had resolved a dispute through him could remember how it had been solved. Old enmities arose, angers and wrongs committed that everyone had once thought were behind them. Macheriel took back his rulings and swallowed them like tiny fish, nestling them deep in his stomach where none could consult them.

The animals fell to fighting among themselves, forgetful that their disputes could be harmoniously resolved. Macheriel laughed, for his revenge was sweet. But it brought him no relief. He remembered his master and felt the pain of its confinement. He based his head against a rock, seeking once more the oblivion that the Spider had given him. With each blow, he forgot more and more about himself. Eventually, his own name was lost to him, and the animals called him Jo'cllath'mattric. Even his shadow left him, floating away into the woods, never to be seen again. He slithered into a deep cave and slept, his dreams empty of image and meaning." - Pgs. 240-242


"As he turned to see the entrance collapse behind him, John saw his spear, twirling in the air, as if caught in an eddy. He reached out to grab it and tugged it from the whirlwind. As he did, a single lore spirit trailed behind it, dripping with ichor. It had been trapped in Jo'cllath'mattric's very heart, and was now free. It swept past John, sending him reeling.

The rocky plain disappeared and he was back in the primeval forest when Jo'cllath'mattric was young and uncorrupted. He stood still, listening to a pounding sound, as of a hammer on an anvil. He turned to look behind and saw the wretched dragon beating his head against a rock, his eyes growing dim as his brain bled within his skull.

Then, floating down to light upon a nearby tree branch, a beautiful, red-plumed bird spoke: "Macheriel, I pity your plight, but you have done this to yourself. I pity more, however, those who shall live in the final days of the world, which your death will deliver to the earth once you have finally devoured yourself."

The dragon ceased his beating and turned to look at the bird. "Oh, Phoenix, lord of prophecy, tell me that this day will come soon."

"No. Your misery will be long and unremitting, until Gaia's Chosen free you from the cell of your own making."

The dragon cried in anguish and began to beat his head once more, shattering his own skull and sending rivers of blood down his face, blinding his eyes.

The Phoenix took to the air and disappeared into the immensity of the sky." - Pgs. 280-281

References[]

  • WTA: Tribe Novel Saga, p. Silent Striders & Black Furies: 122-123, 126, 152, 286; Red Talons & Fianna: 8, 14, 24, 60, 81, 83, 116, 128, 134; Bone Gnawers & Stargazers: 62, 69-73, 76, 91, 93, 102-103, 118, 131-133, 136, 163, 165, 183, 205; Children of Gaia: 14, 24-25, 73-74, 111, 138; Silver Fangs & Glass Walkers: 8-9, 11-12, 14, 24, 40-43, 46, 52, 55-57, 59, 63, 70-71, 81, 83-86, 88, 90, 92-94, 99-100, 102-103, 106, 108, 118, 122, 130-131, 134, 136, 140, 157, 161-162, 165-166, 168, 190-192, 249-250, 252, 254, 254, 260, 264, 266, 282-283; Black Spiral Dancers & Wendigo: 143-146, 148-149, 166, 169, 174, 206-207, 216, 225-226, 235-238, 240-243, 247-248, 252-253, 260-261, 267-269, 271-278, 280
  • WTA: Tribebook: Silver Fangs Revised, p. 100
  • WTA: The Last Battle, p. 31, 38, 47, 54, 103-104, 169, 202
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