Change of Heart, a warcraft fanfic

Author's Note – Yeah, yeah, I know I'm supposed to be finishing 'He Who Ganks the Ganker', but this story pretty much forced itself on my brain. Violently.

Disclaimer – Give unto Blizzard that which is Blizzard's. Namely, everything in this story except for the individual characters. Give them unto me, for they are mine.

It was the middle of the night in Hillsbrad. Despite the town's proximity to the Forsaken town of Tarren Mill, its inhabitants slept peacefully; confident that the night watch would protect them. A member of said night watch was strolling mildly down the road by the blacksmith, eyes trained upwards at the multitude of stars that littered the night sky. Suddenly, from the darkened lot between the blacksmith and an adjacent house, banging and rustling noises sounded in the air. Freezing in place, the soldier listened intently. Soon, more rustling and shaking sounded from the lot. Drawing his sword, the soldier advanced warily, prepared for whatever foul trickery was in store. A sudden rustle from behind him caused the soldier to whirl around, brandishing his sword and laying eyes on… a stray cat.

The feline in question mewed and looked up at the soldier, who chuckled and lowered his weapons.

"Well, hey there little guy. You gave me quite a scare," he said.

The cat merely looked up at him innocently.

"Okay, go on, shoo, I have to get back to patrol," the soldier said mildly, shooing the mewing cat away and returning to his rounds.

Moments later, a shadowy figure detached itself from the darkness of the lot. Creeping through the darkness, the figure maneuvered its way around wandering guardsmen and women, moving with the grace and stealth of the night itself. Emerging from between the darkened houses, the figure darted low along the ground into a small orchard of apple trees. Not a stick snapped nor a leaf rustled in the figure's wake. Suddenly, moving clouds exposed the night's full moon, briefly illuminating the figure. Rotting joints and golden eyes were visible for the briefest of seconds before the figure melted back into the shadows.

Approaching another group of houses, the figure paused. An open expanse of road overlooked by an idling guardswoman stood between the orchard it was in, and the group of houses where it needed to be. Invisible against the shadowy background, the figure approached the guardswoman. Glinting steel was visible for the smallest of instants as the figure drew a wickedly curved dagger from its belt. The dagger was raised, its lethal edge perfectly positioned to end the guardswoman's life in the most efficient manner possible. The dagger hung suspended in the air, almost hesitantly. Suddenly, the figure reversed the blade and bashed the pommel across the back of the guardswoman's head, sending her crumpling to the ground.

After dragging the unconscious woman into the shadows under the orchard trees, the figure once again darted out into exposed air. Sharp, bonelike toe-claws and a masculine form were visible for a brief second before the figure vanished once more into the darkness. Weaving through the shadows, the figure quickly traversed through the houses and emerged on the edge of town. Before him stood an otherwise normal looking house; blue roof, single-story, a small garden beside it. His target, however, was not the house. His target was the small doghouse that stood out front; or, more accurately, the inhabitant of the small doghouse.

Thinking back, the figure remembered the orders that had been given to him by the Forsaken Apothecary, Lyndon:

I want you to go to the human town of Hillsbrad just east of here. By a house on the edge of town lives a small dog, Stanley I believe the little monster's name is. Your assignment is to administer this agent to the beast. If my calculations are proven correct, the Dark Lady will have a potent new weapon. Also, if I'm right, the results should be quite… entertaining.

Pulling the Apothecary's vial from his belt pouch, the figure sloshed its contents around in their container, watching the vile mixture simmer and bubble. Placing the container back in its pouch, the figure crept forward silently once more. When the figure was within a few yards of the small doghouse, he let out a low whistle. There was a rustle from inside the house, and a small puppy ambled out from the darkness. Looking around confusedly, it finally spotted the figure and perked up, wagging its tail happily. The puppy, Stanley, trotted over and the figure knelt down and uncorked the Apothecary's mixture. As the puppy looked up at the figure's golden eyes with innocent happiness, a twinge of regret passed through him. He hoped whatever the mixture was supposed to do wouldn't be too gruesome… but knowing Forsaken apothecaries, that was a remote possibility.

Just as he was about to pour the liquid down the puppy's throat, a small, timid voice sounded behind him.

"Who's there?"

Whirling around and drawing his daggers, the figure came face to face with a small girl. The girl –she couldn't have been more than nine– gasped and took a step back. The figure tensed. If she screamed…

The girl, however, swallowed nervously and spoke up again, "W-Who are you?"

Surprised at her courage, the figure realized that he was still cloaked in shadows, the girl probably couldn't see more than an outline of his figure and the glint of daggers. Sheathing his weapons, he cleared his throat, "My, I'm very sorry for scaring you, little girl," he started, "You just surprised me."

"S-Sir, you haven't answered me," the girl repeated with forced courage.

"I… am a friend of the family," he answered after a pause, "I just came by to pay your father a visit."

"In the middle of the night?" the little girl inquired suspiciously.

"A surprise visit," he amended, awkwardly. This girl was far too intelligent for her age!

"What's that?" she asked, noticing the concoction at his waist.

"… This is, uh, a treat for Stanley here. I made it myself."

Suddenly, the brew hissed and spat out a few noxious bubbles.

"I don't think that's a treat," the little girl said timidly, "A-And I don't think you're really a friend of the family. I think you're lying to me."

The figure cursed, the assignment was falling apart before his eyes.

"In fact, I think you're one of those bad Hordes that daddy talks about," the girl continued, gathering her courage. "You're here to do bad things to Stanley aren't you?" she demanded, "And you better tell the truth, 'cause if you don't I'll scream for the guards!" she finished, then gasped and put her hands over her mouth, shocked by her own audacity.

The figure quickly contemplated his options. He knew for a fact that he didn't stand a chance against more than one guard in a straight fight, and the Apothecary was expecting quick results, removing running from pool of options. He could simply eliminate the girl…. However, looking at her frightened face, he knew that that wasn't an option either.

Sighing, the figure did the only thing he could; taking a few steps forward, he emerged into the dim glow of the moonlight. Clearly laying eyes upon his corpse-like figure for the first time, the girl inhaled sharply and took several steps backward. Some force; either courage she didn't know she had, or simply paralyzing terror, prevented the girl from screaming.

When she remained silent, the forsaken man spoke up, "You are correct. I am allied with the Horde, and I was on a mission of ill will towards your dog, Stanley."

"But... but, why? Stanley's such a good dog." The girl asked.

The forsaken shifted awkwardly, "It's… complicated," he finally managed, "I was ordered to test this potion, it's supposed to aid the Forsaken."

"But, why Stanley?" the girl repeated, eyes moistening, "He never hurt anybody."

The forsaken twitched, "I don't know why. I was just ordered to test this on your dog."

The girl started to sniffle, "B-But, I love him."

The forsaken flinched, "I… apologize." Looking from the vial at his waist, down to the happy puppy at his feet, over to the little girl, and back again, he was filled with doubt. Why had that Apothecary singled out this dog out of so many possible test subjects? Why had he made this vile mixture in the first place? Why were such evil concoctions in demand by Sylvanas? What was the point of killing more people, raising more dead, spreading more misery? It's aid to the Forsaken was minimal, and the consequences fell most heavily on the innocent. It... it was despicable. Looking back at the little girl's saddened face, he reached a conclusion: it wasn't worth it.

Jamming the bottle back into his backpack, he addressed the girl, "You needn't get upset. I'm not going to test the potion on your puppy."

The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve and sniffled once again, "You promise?"

"I promise." He asserted.

"How do I know you aren't lying again?" she asked.

"I… suppose you can't," he answered finally.

The girl frowned in concentration, then brightened, "Pinky swear on it," she said.

The forsaken frowned, "What?"

Edging towards him, the girl solemnly held out a pinky finger, "You gotta pinky swear that you won't try to hurt Stanley ever again, okay?"

Hesitantly, he held out his own pinky finger, "Very well, then."

Reaching out and linking their pinkies together, the girl addressed him seriously, "Okay, you gotta repeat after me, an' say your name when I say mine."

He nodded.

"I, Maggie," she began.

"I, Phineas," he repeated.

"Do solemnly swear."

"That I'm gunna leave Stanley alone, and not try to poison him."

"That I will leave Stanley alone, and never attempt to poison him."

"Cross my heart."

"Hope to die."

"Stick a needle in my eye."

Smiling timidly, the girl, Maggie, stepped back, "Okay, I believe you now."

The forsaken man, Phineas, smiled as well, "Good. Now, it's rather late. I should think someone your age should be in bed."

Maggie wrinkled her nose, "All you grownups are alike."

Phineas chuckled and turned to leave. Suddenly, thinking better of himself, he turned back to Maggie and fished around in his pocket, finally coming up with a Defiler's Mark of Honor. Scrawling a quick message in Orcish on its surface, he handed it to the girl.

"If you ever find yourself in Horde territory, keep that on you. It may save your life." With that he turned to go.

"Bye Mr. Phineas," Maggie called after his retreating form.

The forsaken man turned and waved farewell to the little girl, before vanishing once more into the shadows. The girl smiled and held her new trinket tightly. Scrawled in Orcish across its surface were the words: Let no member of the Horde harm this girl, for she has helped a dead man reclaim his soul.

END.

Endnote – Don't Go! I need those reviews! Please, I got a wife and three kids!