I joined Ireland on February 11th, 2026.
When I arrived, this country had about 20 active players. We were small. We were unknown. We were a footnote in a game full of bigger nations with bigger armies and bigger names. And yet, over the months that followed, we grew. We grew to just over 215 players. We fought wars. We forged alliances. We built a community that people actually wanted to be part of.
That was never guaranteed. That was built by the people who showed up every day, who recruited, who wrote, who argued, who fought, and who cared enough to keep going when it would have been easier to quit. I am proud to have been one of those people.
But nothing lasts forever.
In the last month alone, Ireland has lost almost 40 players. More are on the way out. Some have already gone. Others are leaving quietly. And soon, a large group of us, the older players, the higher levels, the ones who have been here since the early days, will be gone too.
We are not leaving because we stopped caring. We are leaving because the Ireland we helped build is not the Ireland we see now.
Some of you will know why. Some of you will have seen it. Some of you were there when members of Tuatha na dTonnta were branded traitors for trying to change direction. You saw the labels. You saw the reactions. You saw how quickly people who had given months to this country were turned into the enemy.
I am not going to relitigate that here. I am not going to point fingers or name names. I do not need to. People will notice. They always do. When the most active players in a country all decide to leave at the same time, it does not take a genius to figure out why.
So this is my farewell. Not to the game. I am not going anywhere. But to Ireland. The country I called home for months. The place where I made friends, made enemies, and made a name for myself. That chapter is over.
I am moving on. Along with a group of others, I am heading to Comoros. A fresh start. A new chapter. Something different. We are not doing this out of spite. We are doing it because we want to enjoy the game again. We want to build something new, with people we trust, in a place where we are not walking on eggshells. We want to have fun, the way we used to.
To the people staying behind, I wish you well. Truly. Ireland was my home for months. It gave me friendships, rivalries, moments of pride, and moments of regret. It gave me a reason to log in every day. I will not forget that.
To the ones who made it worth it. You know who you are. Thank you. For the late night chats. For the battles. For the arguments. For the laughs. For showing me that a bunch of random people on the internet can actually build something together. That is not nothing.
To Revan, I hope you take care of this country. You wanted it. You have it now. What you do with it is up to you. Just remember that a country is only as strong as the people who choose to stay. Treat them well.
And to the ones leaving with me. I will see you in Comoros and the other half in Belgium. Let us build something good I wish all my Irish and adopted Irish brothers and sisters a good future.
This is my last issue of The Irish Cassette. It has been a privilege to write for you.
Slán go fóill.
The Fatican
Editor of The Irish Cassette