”So this is the chateau!” Daymejeff exclaimed with an enthusiasm that did not fit what Phetatarei could see. Jeff and the Draenei had met up at Thoradin’s wall. There Jeff had foreseen transport. In earlier days Phetatarei could have taken a boat to Southshore, but now that the town was blighted he had taken the Flight Path to Refuge Point and from there he trekked to the old empire’s wall. It was still impressive to think that humans had been able to build such a massive structure. Was it something to do with ancient troll attacks? Phetatarei mused that humans and dwarfs maybe just loved building big stuff, because their lives were quite short compared to elves and Draenei. They wanted to build stuff that could outlive their families.
From the wall the Lady Jeff and Phetatarei traveled together on a cart pulled by an undead horse. “Maybe if you have lost your light, some darkness might do you some good.” Jeff had stated in a voice that was as cheerie as a ghoul could sound. “You’re going to loooove the chateaux there is so much stuffs to do!” While Jeff kept going on about her banshee aunt, Phetatarei saw the world around him darken. This was Forsaken terrain, the paladin didn’t like the idea of travelling this deep into the world of the undead. To ally with a death knight was one thing, to enter their domain was another. The last haunted castle he visited was Karazhan and the spirit of Med’ivh had not been a friendly host.
While the cart trodded into Silverpine Forest Phetatarei really started to feel uneasy. Only recently he was able to tap back into his connection with the Holy Light by the aid of Ki’ru, he even was able to use his connection with the Naaru in new ways, but in this scourged habitat he would never feel at home. Jeff didn’t seem to be bothered by the presence of death all around her, she felt safe in the companionship of her favourite ghoul and gargoyle while she was able to bear the presence of her fellow Longbeard. In an effort to lift her friends’ spirit somewhat she and her undead companions were singing a song.
”Root of the blighted oak, one splotch of maggot’s eye, rattling our bones as the time flies by. No worry in our head, y’know our brains are dead. Sifting through the rubble like we are flies, we’re only scared if no-one dies. Teldrassil ain’t home no more, the ebon gates are our favourite door.”
If the voice of Jeff sounded a bit ghoulish the croaks and squeaks of her undead minions were downright hellish. None of the three were aware of Phetatarei’s disgust however. And while the undead horse kept dragging the creaking cart deeper into the home of the undead, the paladin and his companions passed more and more mindless ghouls and zombies. “We’re almost there little paladin, don’t you worry one bit!” Phetatarei had often wondered if the forsaken and undead lost a part of their sanity in the process of dying and waking up again. Seeing his death knight companion in such a cheery state in the eye of dead, he was now certain they did.
”So this is the chateau!” Phetatarei had seen his shares of palaces and castles both on Draenor and Azeroth but he had never seen anything like this. In a way the building was marvellous, clearly build and overbuild in the eons of time. “It has been in our family for millennia”, the night elf lady explained. “It has survived human empires and after the scourge passed it remained a favorite place for forsaken visitors. But don’t you worry, big guy, there’s no war on this here domain. The Chateau Shal’nari has been neutral since the days of the sundering as we say. So you’ll meet both lively and alive souls.” Daymejeff chuckled at her own joke.
“Mr. Liverrot will see you to your chambers. Please let him carry your belongings, he can be very sensitive about ableism.” Mr. Liverrot was a zombie with a blissful smile the few strands of hair that still remained on his head were hidden under a top hat full of holes. He groaned pleasantly as he saw the new guest and picked up Phetatarei’s coffer from the cart. After a few meters of walking, Liverrot lost both his arms to the weight of the paladin’s belongings. Unburdened by this event, his arms were dragging the luggage behind their master.
As they walked through the domain Phetatarei could see a few of the guests wandering in the castle park. As Jeff had announced, not all of them were dead, but most of them seemed to have lost their sanity. He could see a blood elf child chasing a ghost cat between the rotting trees. In a pond two forsaken guests were fishing for something that looked awfully like undead piranhas with their feet. Mr. Liverrot explained that it was some kind of spa treatment and it sounded like the undead fishermen were cracking up jokes in gutterspeak. A short while later Mr. Liverrot and his paladin guest arrived at the hut that would serve as the paladins chamber.
”Don’t mind the cobwebs”, the carrier croaked, “They are part of the appeal. Mistress Jeff has asked me to provide you with some snacks so I have brought some barely rotten fruit, you are also free to gulp up any of the unwelcome insects you may encounter in your room. They are slimy yet satisfying.” With a broad smile the undead steward revealed his four remaining teeth, three of them were rotten, one was replaced with a gold filling. As he returned to the castle grounds, his arms reattached and he started humming the same song Daymejeff had sung while driving the cart.
“Remember Phetatarei, you are here to recover”, the paladin thought to himself. “Take your time to reconnect with the Light in this dark place even a spark will look like a bonfire.” The Draenei had travelled lightly and he regretted not bringing any produce as he dug his teeth in a rotting apple. To his delight the apple tasted quite sweet and wasn’t much worse than anything you could find at the Stormwind market. Although several creatures crawled by while he was unpacking, he was not tempted to taste any of those. Once he settled down, he started reading a biography on Uther the Lightbringer.
The following morning Mr. Liverrot called upon Pheta in his chamber. “The lady of the castle would like to meet you, young one.” To a millennia old ghost everyone must have been young, the Draenei gathered, and he followed the steward towards the kitchens. Outside Daymejeff was petting two cats, who were very much alive to his surprise. “Oh, Pheta. Hi! Meet Donut and Lollipop! Aunty is just inside, busy preparing lunch!”
As Phetatarei entered the kitchen he was greeted with otherworldly smells and sights. Stashed throughout the kitchen were multiple pots and cauldrons, some of them bubbling with mysterious substances. He could see an orc chopping big chunks of meat with a giant clever, there was a ghoul dressing dishes with the juice of maggots and an abomination was rushing in and out of the kitchens to deliver all orders to the restaurant. In the middle of this chaos hovered a glimmering spirit who was patiently kneeding dough. Although she couldn’t really dirty her hands she still rubbed them clean on a very colourful apron which was her only piece of clothing apart from a chef’s hat. To his surprise the banshee greeted the paladin in his own tongue. “Ah, you must be the lost paladin. Don’t worry, young one, a few weeks with Aunty will treat you just right and before you know it you’ll be zapping all the undead with your holy sparks like never before. Well, undead enemies of course.” She added with a curtly smile. “I am making strudel today. Based on a dough of ants and centipedes. Monsieur Dugoux should arrive shortly with the sour cows milk for the creme. Now, little Draenei be a dear and give Aunty a bisoux or two.”
Phetatarei's warm lips touched the cold cheeks of Aunty and the feeling of being in contact with this spirit form reminded him of his younger days in Auchindoun. He used to visit his mother when she was tending to the spirits of the past Draenei. In a way this gentle touch with Aunty made him feel calm and homely.
"Now dear Draenei, I've been told you came here looking to rest, but since you have no physical ailments I would like to suggest healing a bit of your soul with some labour. You and Daymejeff are to look for madame Crushcleave, she is a new staff member straight from Kezan. Her ingenuity has already saved us some time. Please go and collect some lumber. Most of our guests don't have a warm body, you see."
Chuckling Daymejeff took her friend by the hand and dragged him behind her through the woods. "Chainsaws!" When Jeff noticed the puzzled look of the Draenei, she elaborated. "I love chainsaws! Aunty wrote me a letter saying that Crushcleave had brought in her own chainsaw designs. Oh Pheta, you're going to have a lovely time here." The Draenei believed it be best to keep his thoughts about all this strangeness inside and just go with said flow. Usually the Draenei did not have much love for the machinations of both gnome or goblin design.
The deeper they went in the woods the louder became the sounds of chainsaw and crushing lumber. As they were getting closer to the heart of Crushcleave's lumber camp little undead animals were skittering about, running for their safety. The sight of Madame Crushcleave was impressive. The pierced goblin was carrying a chainsaw almost thrice her size and although the little woman was tiny compared to the undead Nightelf and the bulky Draenei, she seemed to be built up by massive muscles. She was dressed in a tanktop and carried some cargo pants which were filled with all kinds of gadgets and gizmos with wires coming out of her back pockets. On top of it all she was wearing some kind of backpack which served as the energy source for her gigantic chainsaw. All around her lay fallen trees and it was almost impossible to fathom how this little lady had felled so many of the woods.
"Aha", the little goblin exclaimed, "You must be Aunty's niece. She told me a lot about you. But she never mentioned a Naaru-lover coming with you." "Oh this guy? He's just here to relax at the chateau. He had some bad juju going on in his head. You know, he was there at the battle for Theramore and the sight of the devestation, kind of made him go sad and crazy." Jeff made a motion with her fingers as if the crazy part needed to be stressed for madame Crushcleave. "Did you know, that manabomb was of goblin design?" Crushcleave gleamed proudly. "I'm not one for war and all, but that was some masterplan from big bad Garrosh. BOOM! No more Theramore. Haha, I wish I could have seen the explosion, it must have been the biggest bang in goblin history. Oh, and sorry for your loss of course master Draenei." Without any disturbance the goblin continued her parole.
"Right, so felling trees is the easy part you know. Cutting them to lumber and timber and transporting them to the castle, that's where I am going to need that Draenei muscle. Paladin eh? You must be used to carrying around heavy stuff. So I suggest you take the wheelbarrow and wheel yourself to the ovens. They are located in the basement of the chateau. There's an abomination down there in charge of the ovens I personally designed its heat suit." The goblin turned from the Draenei to the Nightelf. "So my lady Jeff, I've been told you like chainsaws? Would you like to try and operate mine? Original Crushcleave design, running on 100 percent clean energy, no sticky tar for me!"
Daymejeff jumped up and down in delight, while the goblin took off her backpack and carefully handed over her chainsaw. "I called it the FORCECUTTA 7200, she can cut through any tree as if it was butter." She gave Daymejeff a daring smack on the buttocks, while she waved the Draenei away. Clearly the two ladies were going to have a great time with this piece of goblin engineering.
The abomination Crushcleave talked about happened to call himself Garm, although Pheta was convinced his name was just the only sound he could pronounce. Garm was clothed by the goblin in some kind of heat resistant suit that looked like it was completely made out of hundreds of oven mitts. Garm seemed to be a content abomination and all his arms were working at the same time, twisting and turning all kinds of valves, levers and handles. When the Draenei had first entered the room, Garm had made a slight bow, and pointed one of his many arms to where the paladin was to take the lumber. Apart from that, communication with Garm seemed to be impossible.
Phetatarei ran back and forth with the wheelbarrow in the company of Donut and Lollypop, they liked to sit in the wheelbarrow while it was empty, and they started complaining as soon as Phetatarei filled it back up again with wooden blocks. In the meantime Daymejeff and Crushcleave seemed to have a blast toying with the FORCECUTTA 7200.
Before bedtime Daymejeff invited Phetatarei to sneak into the kitchens to try and hunt for some leftovers. Phetatarei was actually delighted to try some of Aunty's strudel, it tasted very sweet and it had some pleasant crunchy sensation. After robbing the kitchen storage the two friends looked at the stars and moon for a short while and then hugged before they went to their separate beds. Jeff got to sleep inside of the chateau right beneath the roof of the highest tower. On windy days, she said, she could feel the tower moving back and forth like the branch of a tree.
The rhythm of the first day continued for Phetatarei and he spent most of the time collecting wood for Crushcleave and Garm. Garm was actually a very nice creature and he loved sharing little treats with Phetatarei. In the meantime the guests of the Chateau were busy admiring the tainted countryside. They went for sightings of undead deer or went for a stroll through the chateau's many vineyards. In a way the simplicity of things did help to heal Phetatarei's mind. Here at the chateau he didn't need to worry about orcs and humans. There was no fighting and there was no-one around who needed him for healing or protection. At this place he could just be Pheta, the lumberjack.
Apart from books, Pheta had also brought his jewelry kit and he finally found the time to try out some new designs. He was planning to make a brooch for both Aunty and Daymejeff. Something that could connect them even if they were at a distance. The chateau usually opened at spring and closed by the end of summertime. Although Draenei could also reach an age of more than thousands of years, Phetatarei was born not too many years ago. He couldn't imagine how intense it must be to visit your aunt, you have known since a childhood millennia in the past. The brooches' design of course was based on the moon due to the Nightelven legacy of Jeff and Auntie. It was Garm who had provided Phetatarei with the silver he used for the body of the brooch. Where the silver had come from, he could not guess. Here at the chateau everything just seemed to happen as it was meant to be.
Guests parted and arrived. Even some Furbolgs had found their way to the chateau, although they didn't like to sleep within the building, some of the chateau's grounds counted as sacred to them. Auntie didn't care too much, she welcomed anyone, as long as they didn't stir up any trouble and brought in money.
After a week or two Phetatarei started to miss his busy live again. It was nice that he finally had some time to read, but he also longed for his life as a paladin. He had seen many guests and personnel who all seemed to have some scars from their (un)lives. Some were haunted by war, some cursed by ancient treasure, and of course in these parts the horrors of the scourge were known to all. Some suffered in their lives as Forsaken, while others thrived and had reimagined their purpose of being. Former bakers, millers and craftsmen, were turned into important fighters of Sylvanas' army. And although Aunty did not allow any conflict on her domain; whispers from the war between Horde and Alliance seeped through, even in this hidden away part of the world.
The Alliance was of course scared for Garrosh's plans. If the orc had decided to throw a manabomb on Theramore? What more terrors could he think of? On the other hand, the news that Lady Proudmoore had become the new leader of Dalaran, did raise some suspicions for the people of the Horde. Alliance and Horde both claimed they were fighting for freedom, but apparently there was no freedom to be found in peace.
When Phetatarei talked about his fears for the conflict strengthening with Daymejeff, she seemed to worry less. "Look, Pheta. You say you strife for light in this world, but bigger lights cast bigger shadows. I could have never imagined, I would ever be a part of the Lich King's army, but here I am, a cursed soul. We Death Knights have no real memory from our time in the scourge, but I can see the destruction we caused all around me. When the forsaken wanted to return to their human friends, they were turned away. We death knights were welcomed back into the armies of both the Horde and the Alliance. Do you really think Thrall and Varian wished for allies like us? No they understood that if they allowed these powerful death knights to roam freely, they could never control them. It was better to bind them to their cause. I may be a bit crazy Pheta, but I am not dumb." Jeff giggled as she bit from one of her beloved apples.
"Whether it be light or dark, we all strive for control. Sometimes we wished we could control every minute detail in our lives, and sometimes we almost freeze to death by the idea of choice. Things happen, some good, some bad. I could never had become this cool lady of death and decay if it was not for Arthas. At the same time, you would have never become this awesome paladin for the Naaru, if the Burning Legion had not tried to destroy your home. Maybe you would have become a jewel crafter just like your father and you could have married an orc priest. You burn off hatred for everything the orcs touch, if you can't release that stress, it will be the end of you."
Phetatarei sobbed, because the words of Daymejeff struck true. She was right, and he felt understood. She hugged her bulky friend and did not see him for the big angry paladin, but for the hurt boy he truly was inside. His frame was strong and muscular, but his heart inside was not yet healed. Strong streams of tears released from the Draenei eyes and instead of feeling angry or scared, he felt grateful. Jeff was right, he could never have imagined having such good friends if he had stayed in Shattrath for the rest of his life. Here with her, in the shadows of the haunted chateau, he felt seen for the first time in a long time.
