FROM THE HEART OF THE LAST EYRE OF LONDON, WE RAISE OUR QUILLS AND OUR CANDLELIGHT TO YOU.

Your echoes through the cobbled veils of our neighborhood stir the dust of old enchantments and remind us—we send this message wrapped in moon-thread and memory: @CampOfLachers.

The all kin of the London Below and those who walk the seam between shadow and shimmer—We thank you. For your trust, your nods in passing, your echoes of kindness. In this tapestry of corners and corridors, your presence is a light hung gently in the fog. 

May your steps find steady stones, and your paths reveal unexpected wonders. We remain your ever-rooted neighbors, keepers of veiled paths, guardians of the old names and small magics. 

Should you ever find yourselves at the edge of the map—know we are but a whisper away.

With candlelit cheer,
@HouseOfEyre.

FROM THE HEART OF THE LAST EYRE OF LONDON, WE RAISE OUR QUILLS AND OUR CANDLELIGHT TO YOU.

Your echoes through the cobbled veils of our neighborhood stir the dust of old enchantments and remind us—we send this message wrapped in moon-thread and memory: @TheOceaniic and @Myldemoor.

The all kin of the London Below and those who walk the seam between shadow and shimmer—We thank you. For your trust, your nods in passing, your echoes of kindness. In this tapestry of corners and corridors, your presence is a light hung gently in the fog. 

May your steps find steady stones, and your paths reveal unexpected wonders. We remain your ever-rooted neighbors, keepers of veiled paths, guardians of the old names and small magics. 

Should you ever find yourselves at the edge of the map—know we are but a whisper away.

With candlelit cheer,
@HouseOfEyre.

Good morning, Eyris. Have a great day.