The following day they started preparing to leave. After lunch Barraccus and Alanon wound up in the bedroom going through Pitch’s old clothing, trying to find things that would fit the death knight so he didn't have to wear his armor the whole trip. Barraccus had his ghoul again, using it as a clothes-hanger. Quae helped them by taking the things they chose and washing them, as Pitch was not very careful with his clothing. They had almost finished when suddenly Pitch, who was downstairs, called for Alanon. The older druid frowned, wondering out loud, “Now what does he want?” He went downstairs while Barraccus continued going through the last remaining pile.
He was startled by Alanon rushing back up after several minutes, his eyes wide. “Barraccus, Rhokk is here. I’ve sent him off with Pitch, but we have to get you out of here for a bit.” “But wait,” said Barraccus. “Wouldn’t it be better if we just met and got it over with?” Alanon shook his head. “I share your sentiments, but Rhokk isn’t ready for that yet. He might just attack you without waiting for an explanation, and I won’t have fighting in my house. It will be best for now if he just doesn’t see you yet.” Barraccus bowed his head in assent. “Alright. Where should I go?” Alanon thought for a moment, then answered, “Maestra’s Post. It’s nearby, and the night elves there already know about you, I told them shortly after your arrival. You can stay there until Rhokk leaves, then I’ll send Pitch to get you.”
Barraccus was on his way shortly. He had dismissed his ghoul upon Alanon’s request, and now rode his charger along the road alone. He found the outpost easily and was greeted politely and shown to a bunk. He spent the rest of that day checking out their small library, then went to bed as soon as darkness fell.
Early the next morning he was exploring the outbuildings when he saw Pitch, in his cheetah form, arrive at the Post. He was about to go out and meet him when he spotted a translucent wolf with him. Something told him that it was Rhokk, and he ducked inside the building again, peering out around the doorframe. The ghostly wolf changed into a tall, blue-skinned humanoid of a type he had never seen before, and he remembered that Alanon had said Rhokk was a draenei. He studied the shaman curiously for several long minutes before he began to grow bored. Thankfully they weren’t there long, and soon continued on their way.
Later that afternoon Pitch returned, and stopped at the Post to collect Barraccus. On their way home the young druid told Barraccus what had gone on during Rhokk’s visit, and explained that the shaman was now on his way to the Exodar, the home of his people here on Azeroth. Rhokk thought that he was close to regaining some of his memory and hoped that seeing others like him would help.
Once back home Barraccus found that Alanon had finished their preparations, and they would be leaving in the morning. He was surprised to find that Quae was also preparing to leave. “It’s time I was back out doing things,” she told him when he asked. “There are some of our people in Feralas that could use a hand, I’ve heard.” Then she smiled mischievously at him. “Why, are you going to miss me?” Barraccus blushed furiously and went to find something to do.
They left the next morning at dawn. As they secured the packs onto Barraccus’ death charger and Alanon’s riding saber, Pitch stood nearby with a mournful look on his face. Finished, Alanon turned to him with a grin. “You can always head out yourself, brother. There’s no reason for you to stay here by yourself.” Pitch brightened considerably at that. “That’s true,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve been wanting to go back to Un’goro…” He wandered off, thinking to himself out loud. Alanon laughed and turned to Barraccus. “Ready?” he asked, and the death knight nodded. They mounted up and rode down the road toward Astranaar, where Alanon had arranged a couple of hippogriffs to carry them most of the way. “We could ride the whole way,” he explained while they rode, “But Myst would never forgive me. Besides, this way is faster.”
It was faster, and before Barraccus knew it they were riding through the Blasted Lands toward the Dark Portal. While they rode, Alanon told him some stories of his siblings. Barraccus eventually got up the nerve to ask something he had been wondering about for awhile. “Um, about Quae,” he began. “Is she really serious? You know, about the stuff she says?” Alanon laughed. “No, I don’t think she is. She just likes to tease people, and the fact that you react every time makes it more entertaining for her. She does like you, but I don’t think she’s decided how much yet.” Barraccus found himself blushing again, to his embarrassment. Alanon noticed and took pity on him. “She used to tease Pitch horribly, a few years ago. Everything from claiming he had fleas to telling him not to shed on the furniture, things like that,” he said. “Until he got her to stop, that is.” “Really?” Barraccus asked. “How did he manage that?” “Well, he got tired of it one day, so he sat on her.” Barraccus raised one eyebrow skeptically. “And that got her to stop?” “Oh yes,” Alanon replied. “He was in his bear form, you see.”
Barraccus almost fell off his charger, laughing.
They came in sight of the Portal soon after that, and pulled their mounts to a halt. Alanon turned to Barraccus and gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, this is it,” he told him. “Remember, Barraccus, you have a home whenever you need it. You’ll always be welcome with us.” Barraccus looked down at the ground. “Thank you all, for everything you’ve done for me,” he said softly. “Don’t mention it,” the druid replied. “It’s what families do.” As they turned their mounts in opposite directions, Barraccus said, “I’ll keep in touch with you all. Thanks again.” Then he spurred his death charger toward the Dark Portal and the Outlands beyond. Alanon watched him go before heading back to Nethergarde, his first stop on his way back to the cold wastes of Northrend.