The beautiful spring weather was a contradiction to the stormy mood over Weasmead Town on the first days of the planting season. It was a day that most of the small farming community did their best to forget about and yet it found them each year on the same day as surely as the seasons changed. For quite some time the residents of Weasmead had been living in the shadow of a dragon whom had taken up local residence and had bartered peace with the village on the terms of receiving a regular sacrifice. At first they had chosen female sacrifices exclusively to offer the dragon as myth told them that was the way of it. Unfortunately they were soon running out woman and the men of the town had no desire to give away their most beautiful maidens and they had no criminals to sentence to death by dragon so they had decided it would become a game of equality. It was the first year of putting names in a hat and they had all gathered anxiously in the Market Square to hear whose fate would be sealed.<br/><br/>Jawn Potts had been one of the few who was fairly unconcerned with the entire ordeal, he was convinced that the odds were in his favor so he had no need to stress himself unnecessarily. Jawn was a good hardworking young man and he was certain that the Gods would favor him (and he'd already had his fair share of horrible luck) for that so it came as quite a startling shock when his name was called out and all eyes fell upon him in the crowd of townsfolk. It was a sad experience for everyone and Jawn was in such shock he could only stand and stare into nothingness as he was given condolences and patted on the back. He was so shocked that he threw up all over the guard who came to escort him to the cage he'd be kept in for the remainder of that day to be sure he did not try to sneak off or run away. Jawn was sick to hear the whispers around town of,<span style="font-style: italic">'shame to lose a good worker but at least he's just an orphan. No mother or sisters, fathers or brothers to mourn him. Shame though, good boy.'</span>He remained in comatose state until the evening began to fall upon them, at which time he was dragged kicking and screaming to the sacrificial pole.<br/><br/>They had learned quickly it beast to elevate their sacrifice to avoid dragon fire catching on any of the nearby homes and so this is where Jawn found himself now. His throat ached from yelling and sobbing (he hardly cared how 'unmanly' the others considered his reaction) and his body was even worse off from the tightness of his binds as he watched the last light of the sun fading slowly in the west. Darkness approached and the cool spring night crept upon him. His arms and wrists were bound around and to the pole and his body wrapped in a length of rope to keep him pinned to the highest point on the sacrificial pole in the center of town. It was the very same pole used for stoning and the lynching of those citizens whom had been deemed unlawful and dangerous. Jawn had long since lost the feeling in his limbs from the tightness of the binds around his body and he was too exhausted to cry so instead he just hung in quiet acceptance of his fate.<br/><br/>Weasmead had gone to bed earlier then usual in a quiet way of avoiding Jawn. It was difficult to make eye contact with someone you had known for so long when you knew they'd be a human torch in barely a few hours. The wind blew softly through his sun bleached blonde hair and Jawn tried to savor the last warmth he felt on his freckled skin which was lightly tanned and slightly burned from working the various local fields each day and eerie silence soon fell over the village.<span style="font-style: italic">'I suppose this is the end,'</span>he thought as he was robbed of sight by the darkness and soon Jawn could only listen. Without meaning to he found himself holding his breath and listening intently for the whipping of wings in the wind. His fists curled in anger at his situation (he was far past sorrow now). He clenched his peridot eyes closed and cursed the Gods in his mind as he waited for death.