I had a weird idea; "what if Sparrow had a talking gun that turned anthropomorphic by her Willpower?" Well, since I didn't want it to be a stupid oneshot, I've got to hold off on the anthropomorphic gun part for quite a while. Also, you probably won't be seeing it directly talking to her until later either. Nevertheless, because I don't want this to simply be Fable II told from the viewpoint of her favorite gun, I'm gonna be makin' some changes around these 'ere perts!(Spits on something) Lol, joke over, story begin. Oh, and "I don't own Fable, I only own this alternate reality that is incredibly similar to Fable."

/Chapter One: My Origins/

There was once upon a time that I was nothing more than an object-a toy, a weapon, just something that did what it was supposed to do. I remember what I was back then. I was first built by a kind man, who enjoyed making things, but rarely made things he actually wanted or needed. So, he gave us up. He gave me to a child, a little girl, with the biggest and bluest eyes I had ever and ever will see. She had been playing with her older sister, pretending to be a bandit. Her older sister was pretending to be a town guards, using an old blue tarp and some paper she found to make a costume. I tell you; even then, I thought they looked good. You know, like real fighters! Although, that's probably because of what I was. Really, that was the most sophisticated I ever got. Now, back to my life. He kneeled down, looked that little girl right in the eyes, and handed her that little toy gun-Me!-to her with the warmest smile. And then, she looked at him with awe and happiness and a little fear. I can imagine what she was thinking: "Why is this guy giving this to me?", "Is this a joke?", "Who are you?", and probably a dozen other things. But neither of them said a single thing. The man that made me just walked away, turned his back on me and that little girl, and she had the brightest smile you could imagine. I remember, for days afterwards, she would just load me up with little pebbles or even pellets if she could find them, and she would fire me. I remember that she had a good eye, almost always hit her mark. Went like that for a long time, and I started to feel really happy when she held me.

Hah, she even repaired me! Not too many of the little buggers with toys around me did even that much, so even with my low intelligence, I could tell I had it pretty good. I really loved that girl, even then, and every day, every time she held me up with pride, pretending that she was some great hero like the Hero of Oakfield, or maybe some great bounty hunter, or just because she was glad she had me, every single time I whispered "Thanks" to her. Of course, she never heard me. No animate ever does. But the feeling was still there, and no matter what, dim-witted as I was, I always said it. But then, later on, I started to notice what kinds of things she was doing with me. She wasn't just using me to play; she was using me to help people. One time, she used me to make a kids ball fall to the ground, another, she fired some pellet at some guy running from the guards. She got paid a nice ten gold coins for that little deed, and I said and say she earned it. But then, there was that day. I still can't say if that was a good day or a bad day. But I do know one thing, at the very least. It was a very tragic day, and it was the decider for… for a lot of things. That was the day things changed. You see, it started with something simple. It started with an old merchant Murgo. They were interested in his wares, most specifically a certain music box, and were finally convinced to gather the money to buy it by an old woman…

/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X/X

R&R please! Also, I'm gonna have probably the next three or four chapters up in a flash.