A fond farewell beyond The Veild-Breach
THE EXODUS OF THE Iron Peak Covenant
Word spread quickly across the western lands that the time had come.
The Ironpeak Covenant, stalwart defenders of Honor and Duty, had chosen to depart this plane of existence and answer the call of distant realms beyond the Veil.
As a sign of respect, warriors, travelers, and common folk alike gathered along the route of their final journey.
Their procession first crossed the Houndlands, where neighboring realms stepped forward to offer farewells and pay tribute to allies whose presence had long been felt across Rutland.
From there, the Covenant passed through Worronborg.
There, beneath silent skies, the march came to a halt.
No speeches were given.
No banners were raised.
Only silence.
For it was upon those fields that brave men and women had given their lives in battles now etched into the memory of the realm.
For a time, all stood together in quiet remembrance of the fallen.
When the march resumed, the road led south toward Cyytor.
Word had reached the mountain oasis long before their arrival.
The people of Cyytor emerged from their homes and settlements, lining the pathways that wound through the jungle and stone.
Thousands stood in solemn respect as the Iron Peak Covenant passed between them.
Some bowed their heads.
Others placed lanterns and flowers along the road.
Not a voice broke the silence.
It was not a celebration.
It was a memorial.
A final honoring of old friends.
At last the procession reached Duskpike.
There, before the ancient Veil-Breach, stood Maaz, Mentor of the Ancient Assassins Enclave, flanked by his Assassins and the Mystics who had spent decades studying the mysteries of the portal left behind by the Veil-Breach Circus.
The Mystics gathered in a great circle around the breach and began the rites known only to a chosen few.
The Exodus of the Covenant had begun.
Before the ritual commenced, Maaz and Rics Stormvein shared a final private conversation.
"We've almost perfected this performance you are about to experience," Maaz told him.
"And as you can already tell, it is not a physical object you are walking through.
We have learned how to exercise the power of the Veil-Breach from another location entirely."
Rics listened carefully before offering a final smile.
With gratitude, he extended one last gift to his brother-in-arms.
"Strength in numbers," he said.
"Take these men.
May I see you all again in another place, at another time.
Stay true, brother."
Then after a brief pause he added:
"Now may I leave in peace."
The two embraced.
No grand speeches followed.
No declarations.
Only understanding.
The Mystics completed their work.
The Veil-Breach stirred.
Ancient energies awakened.
Light and shadow twisted together as the portal expanded far beyond its natural size, illuminating the cliffs of Duskpike and the faces of all who had gathered to witness history.
One by one, the Iron Peak Covenant crossed beyond the Veil.
And then they were gone.
Not defeated.
Not destroyed.
Simply departed.
Bound for realms unknown.
Many who witnessed the Exodus would later swear that they heard distant voices echoing from beyond the breach long after it had closed.
Some claimed they were farewells.
Others believed they were promises.
Promises that one day, somewhere beyond the Veil, old brothers would meet again.