Here's my first fanfic in the FE section. Sadly enough, FE is the game that brought me here, but I never bothered posting a fanfic in the FE section for some reason. Anyway, here you go!
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ONCE
THERE WAS A DARK DRAGON
A DURANDAL
AND...
THE
FIRE EMBLEM...
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Mark was walking along one day. He was walking through the fields of Sacae, where the air was clear, the grass was green, and the ground was covered in horse dung. Of course, Mark's clothes were mostly brown anyway, so the last one didn't worry him too much.
So he walked, heading towards Bulgar. He had no real reason to go there. He did have a small hope that there would be women there that he could convince to move 4 tiles up and 3 tiles left, into his bed. He knew there was almost no hope, but he continued along anyway.
He was a tactician by trade and a lecher by birth; this, obviously, didn't get him very many jobs. He hadn't had a job for years, since he had ordered those Wyvern Riders into a house at once, lit it on fire, and ran away shouting 'DRAGON, DAMMIT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TRYING TO PULL, CALLING THEM WYVERNS!'.
So he went.
And then suddenly he fainted, leaving a 6-foot long hole in the ground. Because, of course, he was wearing a lead suit.
So he continued laying on the ground, his head sinking slowly into the dung.
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There's the prologue. Please review.