One of those days…
It's a chilly 72 degrees in my office this morning, I left my sweater at home and — sigh — I just noticed that my shoes don't match.
It's going to be one of those days.
I wish I couldn’t care less.
Matticus recently had a guildmember depart for a more hardcore raiding guild. By and large, he was fine with it — even supportive. He just wished the guy had talked to him before leaving rather than after, and perhaps finished the lockout period instead of bailing in the middle of it.
While I don't necessarily agree with Matt's observation that he "should have" been angry (a psychology major, I don't believe there's any such thing as "should have" when it comes to feelings; they simply are or they aren't), I am surprised by some of the comments he has received. A couple of people — including well-respected members of the community (read: not trolls!) — have told him point blank that it was his fault that the former guildie didn't approach him. Clearly, Matt should have fostered a more open, communicative environment ...
Um, excuse me for interrupting the self-righteous diatribe: but how the hell do you know what kind of guild culture Matticus and his officers have created (or failed to create)? Do you play with Conquest? Have you listened in on one of Matt's raids or polled his members for their opinions on his leadership skills (or, as you assume, lack thereof)?
Maybe you're right, and Matt is a piss-poor guild leader whose members are right to leave (in the middle of the raid week, with no advance notice or even the courtesy of a post mortem tell).
Or maybe the guy was just a dick.
* * *
Last night, I found myself in a similar situation. The guildmember who threatened to quit two and half weeks ago finally did, and although "L." isn't a dick — he's actually a pretty nice guy — he certainly exhibited some dickish behavior on his way out.
While the too easy/too hard debate rages on, only the most optimistic of gnomes seems to find the raid-game "just right." The rest of us have been struggling: either to fill raids as our members become increasingly bored with the same repetitive content, or to break into raiding in the first place when no one bothers with the entry level zones. On Black Dragonflight, several top level guilds have failed — felled not by hardmodes, but by simple ennui — as have countless start-ups.
For about a month, Surreality was failing too. We were consistently canceling two out of three weekly raids, and those members who wanted to progress through hardmode content were thwarted by those who simply didn't care.
Then, a couple of things happened.
First, I kicked recruitment into overdrive, using the official forums to lure potential raiders cross-server. (Hi Val. *wave*)
Second, two major Horde guilds failed, which led to an fortuitous (for us!) influx of new recruits — giving us not only the numbers we needed to start hardmodes in earnest, but creating competition for raid spots that many of our members had come to take for granted (and couldn't always be counted on to fill). We've seen a considerable step up in interest, attendance and performance as a result. In the space of two weeks, we went from 23-manning Trial of the Crusader once a week to making significant progress in Trial of the Grand Crusader. We even broke into the server's Top 10 for the first time in our existence.
For the last two weeks, our members have been interested, engaged and enthused. Raids are lively again, with everyone from new initiates to seasoned vets offering input and suggestions for strategy tweaks. Even our 10-mans are back in business, with a first round of Rusted Proto-Drakes hatched and many more to come. (I'm currently working on an extended Uld 10 schedule that will open up hardmodes to members who haven't had a chance to see them yet — without leaning on those who never want to see them again. It's even harder than it sounds, but I'm determined to make it work. Somehow.)
... So why now? Why wait until everything is going right to /gquit?
I knew from a previous conversation that L. had been offered a trial with a hardcore guild, recently formed from the remnants of several decently progressed — but largely stagnant — raiding guilds. "SRP" (which stands either for Smoke Ring Productions or Stupid Retarded People, depending upon who you ask) is a typical FotM guild. You know the type, I'm sure: the fourth or fifth reiteration of an old and somewhat controversial name, recreated by and for players who are united in the pursuit of purples but have no deeper or more lasting ties than that. I predict that SRP will enjoy a meteoric rise and then implode as soon as the novelty of being the talk of Trade Chat wears off and its members realize they've been guilded together before and actually hate each other.
So, no, it doesn't sound like a great offer to me — but then, I don't raid for epics or even progression. I raid to play with my friends, so I can't imagine an end-game without Surreality and her odd ensemble cast. Perhaps this is naive of me, but I truly believe that it's the strength of our community that saw us through the worst of the "summer slump" and ultimately allowed us to rebuild.
L. obviously doesn't share my opinion, and that's fine. As Matticus points out, everyone is motivated by different things, and there's nothing inherently wrong with looking for a more compatible experience. For his part, L. was certain that SRP's offer represented an opportunity: a "new adventure," as he phrased it on our message boards.
We talked long into the night the first time this came up, discussing the pro's and con's, and L. eventually decided to give Surreality a month long "trial." "You have one month to recruit more raiders," he concluded at the end of our conversation. "They'll either convince me to stay, or they'll replace me."
Not surprisingly, my officers were a little (okay, more than a little) annoyed by what they perceived as an ultimatum — especially since it came from someone we had historically found to be a little ... unreliable?
With all due respect to L., he does have an unfortunate tendency to /afk through raid content — including our entire first Archimonde kill and multiple bosses in Trial of the Crusader (although completely unattended, his pet once managed 700 DPS on its own on 10-man Jaraxxus!) — and often struggles to maintain a consistent Internet connection. This week, he missed two of our three weekly raids: one because he was late (albeit for perfectly understandable reasons), and one because he disconnected so often that he ended up costing us attempts on the heroic Twin Valks and had to be subbed out.
An unstable Internet connection and flakey attendance aren't ideal for a raider in any guild, but — true to our casual-friendly roots — they are things we're willing to work around. To a point. L.'s veteran status (and the fact that I have always believed his heart to be in the right place, even when his head isn't anywhere at all) has been his Get Out Of Jail Free card. Truth be told, I've taken a bit of flak about it from my officers. But I still view Surreality as my baby and am determined to preserve our "fun and friendship first; progression second" philosphy towards raiding, even if the gap between first and second has narrowed considerably over the years.
Ironically, the same credo that has kept L. in the guild as a core raider has become his reason for leaving. "I guess my desire for progression finally outstripped the guild's," he told Keaton last night. Oh, you mean the desire for progression that leads you to /afk randomly throughout progression raids? (Which is the main reason you're seldom our first choice for a 10-man, by the way. >.<)
I think our melee officer said it best: "Are. you. fucking. kidding. me.?"
Be more condescending. Please.
... Yes, I'm a little upset. Not because he left, per se, but because ever since he recieved the competing offer, his ego has been out of control. It became increasingly obvious after our talk that he no longer wanted to be a part of Surreality. Literally overnight, he went from being optimistic and generally constructive in raids to critical and overbearing — harping on other people's failures while largely ignoring his own. I received so many complaints that I finally resolved to ask him to leave the guild, since it was clear that he resented his choice to stay and was taking the resulting frustration out on us. I suppose I should be relieved that he spared me that particular confrontation ... but I'm mostly just annoyed.
Sometimes, I wish I had Matt's emotional distance. Matt writes that he couldn't care less; that he keeps his members at arms' length and considers no one irreplaceable. Me, I care too much. I feel personally responsible for everyone's enjoyment of the guild and game; on more than one occasion, I have made myself literally sick stressing over the raid roster or an initiate we had to turn away or a veteran who had somehow fallen behind and needed to be demoted or benched.
At the end of the day, I want everyone to love Surreality as much as I do, and am genuinely disappointed and even a little hurt when it turns out that they don't. But this? This was even worse, because — adding insult to injury — the player who left did so in search of a "hardcore" experience he certainly couldn't deliver in-house. His condescension was completely unwarranted and — in my estimation, at least — out-of-character (although no one else seems particularly surprised, so maybe that part's just me).
I wish I was a big enough person to wish him well, but I'm not.
And then there were eight.
I benched myself from last night's raid.
We finally managed to recruit a second holy paladin — or, rather, Malamo managed to recruit a second holy paladin by convincing his 3v3 partners to raid with us (most likely by refusing to unbind KAMEHAMEHA! from Lightning Bolt until they agreed to apply >.>).
Not only does Tingwei seem perfectly sane (*fingers crossed*), but she rounds out our group nicely, giving us two raiders of each healing class and the cushion we need to accommodate occasional absences (without having to do silly things like send our 15 million DPS ret pally to his discipline priest for the evening).
However, adding another healer does take our total number to eight, which is two more than we find we need for most content. We're either going to have to look at utilizing our dual-specs (which will take raid spots from the "real" DPS) or start taking turns. Given that we also wait-listed DPS last night, I felt that the latter was the better option and decided to set the precedent by stepping out first.
If the guild leader is the first to ride the bench, then surely others will think twice before complaining about it, right?
... one can hope. ;.;
And now, for something a little different …
I've been horribly remiss when it comes to updating the guild website — so much so that our Death Knight officer, Ouchilicious, finally took matters into his own undead hands.
His ToC "screenshot" is too good not to share:

I can't be sure, but I think the dead cow in the lower left-hand corner is Elam ...
My first glimpse of Black Temple
The first time I experienced Black Temple, I wasn't a raider; I was a tourist.

Surreality was still working on SSC and TK when the T6 attunements were patched out of the game. Many guilds at our level of progression leapt at the opportunity to skip ahead to Mount Hyjal and Black Temple, but our ragtag group of lore junkies and obsessive completionists was determined to see Lady Vashj and Lord Kael'thas defeated before retiring Tier 5. (Besides, I had read on the realm forum that 3/4 TK and 5/6 SSC translated from WoW into English as "we don't do anything hard," and I didn't want Surreality to be looked down upon as one of those guilds. The "months behind" badge, on the other hand, I wore with pride.)
Even with attunements lifted, Black Temple seemed a far distant goal. It loomed over us, both literally and figuratively: an inscrutable monolith, mysterious, seemingly impenetrable — wonderfully, awe-inspiringly epic. I wouldn't go so far as to say it was a daily ritual, but I often found myself veering north and east from the Sanctum of the Stars, putting my one-woman crusade on behalf of the Netherwing off for just long enough to hover in the shadow of the former Temple of Karabor and dream of the day that I would slough the mud and muck of Serpentshrine Cavern off of my boots and ... crawl through the mud and the muck of Illidan's sewer.
In those days, Surreality had become something of a haven for the alts of hardcore raiders, who enjoyed our relaxed guild culture and often hung out with us outside of raid times. (Or at least, that's what I told myself. Maybe they saw it as the equivalent of reading to kindergartners: WoW volunteerism, as it were.)
One night, the most egregious among them — a Tier 6 shaman many of us regarded with something akin to hero worship — offered to take us on a guided tour of Black Temple, using his main guild's raid ID.
To this day, it remains some of the most fun I've ever had in-game.
First, there was the sheer awe-factor. I was in Black Temple! Me! Black Temple! Sure, it's old hat now ... but at the time, Black Temple was the domain of the elite. The <Fires of Heaven>'s and <Forgotten Heroes>'s of the world raided Black Temple — not me! And yet here I was, a fledgling warlock in Frozen Shadoweave and that slutty red dress from Magister's Terrace, towing my imp around like a teddy bear and gaping at the ghosts of vanquished trash mobs.
And then, there was the light-heartedness of it all. It was so. much. fun. to be running amock in the scariest zone in the game, pretending we were raid bosses and intrepid adventurers and erstwile heroes, telling each other that this is where Gurtogg Bloodboil will be and this is where we will save Akama — or die trying — and oooo, look, are those ghosts on the ceiling?
* * *
I've come a long way since then, obviously, but I was reminded of this experience yesterday when responding to Light's comments on a recent (and apparently controversial) blogpost.
"The thing I notice the most about WoW players is that they expect Blizzard to hand them everything in terms of how to make the game harder or more interesting," Light wrote.
I replied with the now-standard counterpoint: "The thing I notice about WoW players is that they expect Blizzard to take them on a guided tour of all the content in the game..."
... and yet, ironically, my first glimpse of what remains my favorite content was — quite literally — a guided tour!
Why then, as Juzaba asks, do I begrudge others that experience?
I don't.
What I regret about Blizzard's paradigm shift is the knowledge that I will never again feel the kind of awe I did upon entering Black Temple for the first time — or the third1, because when I returned as a bona fide raider (with a jagged shard of Kael'thas's soul tucked into the pocket of my robes to prove it!), it was just as epic. But if every challenge in the game has an easy-mode counterpart, then the truly "new" experiences will be few and far between and every hard-mode victory will feel at least a little hollow.
Surreality is currently working on the heroic Twin Valkyrs. It's a hard, fun fight. I'm enjoying myself, especially because I can feel us progressing. We're learning with each new attempt. I can't claim that every wipe is productive (some are just dumb), but most are. The fight hasn't clicked yet, but it will — and when it does, I know I'll be happy and exhilerated and relieved, all at once.
But, still, compared to my TBC experience ... I can't help but feel that this is methodone.
If the new model is working for you — if you find the easy-mode/hard-mode dichotomy a perfectly acceptable, even brilliant compromise — then I'm happy for you. Truly. I'm not asking Blizzard to re-tune the raid content to my specifications; I'm simply expressing regret and a vague sense of loss over the end of an era.
- Remind me to tell you about the second, some time. For now, suffice it to say that it involved two warlocks, a prowling cat druid and a very naughty game of dodgeball with two Eyes of Killrogg. ↩
WoW is too easy.
Sorry, Larísa. But this has been my opinion since the debut of Naxxramas v2.0, and I stand by it now — even if it means I'm one of those unrepentent whiners who has reduced our beloved innkeeper to the use of Internet shorthand. (Don't feel bad! I've been known to do it too. The other day, I even used the word fuck in guild chat. /shameface)
"Hands on heart, how many of you have actually killed Yogg-Saron 25 man?" Larísa asks, uncharacteristically blunt. I imagine her standing in front of a warm and inviting fire, wagging a diminutive finger. Her pink pigtails bob as she shakes her head in disappointment.
Not quite that many. As a matter of fact, people seem to have given up [on] him altogether. I haven't got any scientific evidence that this is the fact, but from what I read on the blogs, it appears that most raiding guilds have stopped aiming for an Ulduar clear. They make ToC, Onyxia, and not much more than that.
Why? Well, I guess they find him too hard compared to the upgrades he offers. The wipe/gear quota isn't favorable. And fine, that's their choice. But don't come and tell me that the raid instances in Wrath are too easy!
I understand the point that Larísa is attempting to make, and I certainly appreciate her perspective: few things irk me more than people who pre-judge a situation — which is exactly what Larísa feels those players who complain about content they have yet to fully experience are doing.
I'm not sure I agree. To me, Larísa's rant begs a question: "How much content do you need to have completed before you're entitled to an opinion?"
Larísa is prepared to listen only to those who are farming Algalon and clearing ToC hard-modes "without any effort," but I find this position rather short-sighted (and no, that isn't a potshot at gnomes!).
Reading her post, I was reminded of the druid formerly known as Karthis — now Andrew, Of Teeth and Claws — who canceled his subscription relatively early into Ulduar because he knew that hard-modes wouldn't satisfy his hunger for new and challenging content. Far from finding his perspective irrelevant (to my knowledge, Andrew didn't raid Tier 8 long enough to see Yogg-Saron defeated), I find it telling: someone who loved the game enough to devote a significant amount of his time to writing about it — and, indeed, was widely regarded as a pillar of the druid community (a feral Phaelia, if you will) — has written it off entirely.
Andrew didn't need to see Wrath to its end to know that WoW was no longer a game he wanted to play. I may be projecting here (Surreality and Que Sera Sera were in virtual lockstep for most of Tier 7), but it seems to me that his disappointment with Naxxramas and the one-shot wonders (as Keaton calls them) was compounded by months of idle frustration, during which the only real challenge in the game was finding 25 players who were still interested enough in raiding to attempt 3-drake Sarth.
For Andrew and players like him, Ulduar was a classic example of too little, too late. Sure, it was harder than Naxxramas — but it wasn't significantly harder, and certainly couldn't hold a Kobold's candle to The Burning Crusade's sophomore tier.
It's players like this that Larísa fails to take into account when she points out that a small percentage of raiders have defeated Yogg-Saron, let alone faced down Algalon or achieved a Tribute to Insanity.
If the game were truly too easy, She of the Pink Pigtails contends, shouldn't more people have completed it?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Larísa's assumption is that those players who have given up on Yogg-Saron — or Algalon, or hard-mode Anub'arak — have done so either because the content is too hard, or because the wipe/reward ratio isn't high enough to make attempting it worthwhile. But what about those players who haven't attempted hard-modes, not because they aren't capable of them, but because they simply can't bring themselves to care about the over-tuned versions of under-tuned fights they've done countless times already?
The flaw in Larísa's logic is that correlation does not equal causation: while some players may have given up on Ulduar because ToC 25 renders even hardmode loot obsolete, others are almost certain to have moved on for other reasons — such as boredom, frustration and even disgust with the same recycled content.
And, really, who can blame them? After months of progressing through Ulduar, farming Ulduar and cursing Ulduar as the only relevant raid content available, many players — myself included — have no real desire to return to Ulduar to work on hard-modes that look exactly like the familiar, normal modes with one or two gimmicky additions.
The Choice is a Lie
Blizzard's intention with Wrath was to make the raid game accessible to even the most casual of players. In spite of some initial misgivings as to how this would be accomplished, I think most of us were supportive of that. After all, it takes a pretty selfish person to say "Nuh uh, no, mine! Take your grubby little, scrubby little hands out of my raid zones!" Sure, some of the truly hardcore may have been thinking it — but the majority of us were cautiously optimistic, even hopeful. We knew that Naxxramas would be easy and attunements were to become relics of the past, but even in the absence of gated content, we expected the difficulty to ramp up with each successive tier.
Instead, we were introduced to the easy-mode (I'm sorry, is that offensive?) normal-mode/hard-mode dichotomy.
Larísa has extolled its virtues on more than one occasion. She believes that hard-modes allow individual players and guilds to set the bar at exactly the right height — creating, in essence, a customized gaming experience from a one-size-fits-all kind of a brand.
I'm not buying it.
For me, the problem with hard-modes is that they create the illusion of new content without actually being new content.
Saresa explains it beautifully:
I want my difficult raids to be new, exciting and fresh. Killing a boss with a couple more adds, or a little less assistance, or on a timer just doesn’t cut it for me. I remember in BC, I was always so excited downing a boss. It was HUGE to see them die for the first time. Now? Blah. Snore. Even on hard mode it feels like ‘I just killed the tacky, slightly more difficult mode of a boss I’ve already killed’. There is no exhilaration in hard mode raiding. Fun? Oh sure! But, at the end of the day, the boss is dead, and I just don’t really care.
Trial of the Crusader is a perfect example. Because new bosses were released at the rate of one per week, by the time we could zone in to Trial of the Grand Crusader, we had already faced (and defeated!) the Beasts of Northrend no less than ten times between ToC 10 and ToC 25.
Do you know what the differences are between the Beasts of Northrend on normal-mode and the Beasts of Nothrend on heroic-mode?
In heroic-mode, everything hits harder and has more health.
The bosses enter the arena on timers.
Fires do DoT damage.
And there is no run-speed buff during Icehowl's charge.
From a practical standpoint, this changes exactly nothing. The tanks still have to set up a taunt rotation. The healers still have to heal the tanks through impales and bleed damage and the raid through AoE damage. Everyone still has to move out of fires and poisons. No one can stand still and stare Icehowl down as he charges straight at them.
Heroic Beasts of Northrend is the same fight as Beasts of Northrend!
Harder? Faster? More frantic? Yes.
Less forgiving? Most definitely.
New? Exciting? Epic? Not at all.
And therein lies the problem.
Just a little crazy.
Tamarind of Righteous Orbs is what my mother affectionately refers to as "flypaper for freaks." In other words? He attracts crazy people. Two of his most recent antagonists include the Lying Lying Liar and Snottydin — both of whom, I suspect, are actually Ferraro.
There have been seven Ferraro's, you know. And it just so happens that the Cult of Ferraro is looking for an eighth! Yes, you too can earn e-fame and thousands of dollars in ad-sharing revenue for lifting content from other blogs and passing it off as your own.
... Does anyone actually believe that 413 people applied for this bogus "position"? Really? If so, you should give me all of your gold to invest in Icy Dragonscales, because I have inside information that says three of them will combine to make one Frost Orb in WoW 3.3.

For some reason completely unrelated to tragically insecure, attention-whoring paladins who also happen to be pathological liars ...
... I have SheDAISY in my head.
Number 5 just cries "DON'T NERF ME!" /
7 demands buffs for her Divine Plea /
Yeah, 14 just wants to say so long, bygones /
32 wants to do things to you that'll make you blush /
10 will free the Rusted Proto that you love so much /
And there ain't nobody wants to mess with 23 ...
I tweeted earlier in the week that the vast majority of WoW bloggers are too nice. With the exception of some sociopath I no longer read, no one calls anyone out on their bullshit. Even the Snark Mavens (and I say this with all due love and respect, because World of Snarkcraft is still one of my favorite blogs) have been infailingly polite lately.
It drives me kind of crazy.
... Not so crazy that I'll be following Tamarind around Dal wearing nothing but a necklace of Hillsbrad peasant skulls and escorted by an entourage of tiny voodoo gnomes, each with its own Ivy League degree.
Just a little crazy.
I’m dual-wielding mice today.
Keaton called me at the office on his way into work today.
"My mice are broken!" I wailed.
"Excuse me?"
"My mice. Mouses. Whatever."
"Are broken?"
"Yes. One won't right click and won't left click."
"So you're dual-wielding them?"
"..."
Yes, exactly.
PuG Rules: A Random Selection
PuG Rule #5987
In a low level instance, everyone who has a level 80 main will find some way to let the entire group know. Most will strive to be at least somewhat natural about it (example: "Let's chain pull. I have an Ulduar raid in 40 minutes.") but, inevitably, someone will lack that kind of verbal finesse (example: "My main is 80, haha!" "How many 80's do u got?" "U should give me lead cuz my main is 80 and that makes me better than u nubs, lul.").
PuG Rule #3249
The player who is crying the loudest about a wipe is probably responsible for it.
PuG Rule #7410
The rogue will die. Always.
PuG Rule #7411
Said rogue (see Rule #7410) will inevitably blame the healers — even if they happened to precede the rogue in death because he was tail-swiped into whelps that the paladin off-tank couldn't be troubled to pick up. ("Run to me!" the failadin exclaimed, conveniently forgetting that he has run-speed on his boots and an AoE taunt. Clearly, protection DPS > protecting the healers.)
* * *
This is just a random selection. There are many, many more.
Dear PuG Raid Leader …
Dear PuG Raid Leader,
My main-spec is Balance. This means that I am ranged DPS.
Not a tank. Not a healer.
Not 4 fite.
Ranged DPS.
Don't worry: I don't blame you for not realizing this from the start! Druids can be confusing, if only because we all look exactly the same. I wish there were some convenient way that players could tell, at a glance — without inspecting our gear or talent trees — which raid roles we've chosen to specialize in.
Something really obvious. Like feathers. Or leaves. Or claws.
Oh, well. Maybe next expansion.
When I said I was happy to heal, if necessary, I meant exactly that. I was happy to heal. If necessary. Not if, after inviting all of three people to your 25-man VoA PuG, you suddenly decided that the critchicken quietly fluffing her feathers in Group 2 needed to become a sapling in Group 5.
"Ih, i want u to heal," you announced in /raid chat.
"Okay," I replied, momentarily taken aback. I realize that healers are a rare and precious commodity on Black Dragonflight, but five seconds and three players into forming a raid seemed a little early to call for off-spec heals. "But I would still like to roll as Balance."
"U roll as MS resto. OS balance."
"But my main-spec is Balance. If I can't roll as my main-spec then there's no reason to save myself to this ID."
"U roll as what u r." You were adament. "U heal."
I wished you luck with the rest of the raid and promptly dropped group.
Of course, you must have missed me, because you continued to harass whisper me for a good five minutes afterwards. (How sweet!) Since you seemed to have trouble understanding why a scrubby little critchicken would abandon you and your obviously "pro" group, I'll spell it out for you. Again.
I am a Balance druid. BAL-ANCE. If I had specced Resto for the raid, it would have been to HELP. You can't punish people for HELPING and expect them to stick around to HELP some more. If I had come late to the raid, then I would have understood — "We have one spot left and need a healer; if you're willing to heal and roll as a healer, it's yours!" — but I was the third person to join and was queued as DPS.
I have to admit, I giggled a little when I saw you spamming /trade a half hour later:
LF1M VoA 25. Druid or pally heals. Pro group, no bads.
Good luck with that!
Love,
Ihlana