A truly [Epic] night
We had to call another raid tonight. With our holy priest /afk and several DPS missing in action, it just wasn't happening.
This time, rather than attempt to split into two 10-man groups (and deal with all of the attendant drama), we decided to look for something we could 22-man — like Sarth 3D!
... Point of clarification: when I say "we," what I really mean is "the officers who weren't stuck in traffic for two hours this afternoon." >.< In my defense, I did call! I even managed to get my two coppers in, via Keaton. My plea? "Do something. Even if it's farm content. Or PvP. Or Brewfest." Our members set aside nine hours every week to play together; even if we can't pull together a progression raid, we can still have fun.
And, lo and behold, we did.
Even down three players, Sartharion was an easy one-shot — and a 30 minutes well spent, as our boomchicken won a Pennant Cloak (and finally earned the Epic achievement in the process!).
Then those who were interested headed off to Sunwell, an instance we never did see in The Burning Crusade. Because we are just. that. awesome., we managed to break the very first raid boss we stumbled across:
But as you can see, all was not lost! Kalecgos may have ended up permanently banished, but I finally leveled my Dagger skills to 400! (Best use of an ungemmed, unenchanted Spectral Kris ever, imo.)
We couldn't figure out how to reset the encounter, so everyone who had a hearthstone returned to Dal, while everyone who didn't (read: the shamans) caught a mole machine to BRD.
As long as we were there, we decided to smack Coren Direbrew around a few times. (Grats on the Kodo, Osaj. ^.^)
Then it was back to Sunwell Plateau to save Kalecgos, obliterate Brutalis, wipe a few times on Felmyst before taking her down to exactly 1 HP before that awful air phase ... zerg the Eredar twins ... zerg M'uru ... zerg Kil'jaden ...
... and, oh. my. god., is that Thori'dal, The Stars Fury?!
It was quite a night.
Fuzzy ethics, loot drama and yet another crazy healadin.
I recently trialed a holy paladin.
For the sake of convenience, let's call him "Landron."
On paper (or, rather, pixels) Landron looked like a solid addition. His application was detailed and well-written; he had obviously put some thought into it, which I always appreciate. At a time that most of the applications we were seeing were facerolled by grammatically-challenged 16 year-olds in quest blues and a smattering of Naxx epics, Landron was an adult in his 30's who had been healing casually for an Ulduar guild and was eager to contribute to hardmode progression. His gear wasn't bad, either; a little below our level, perhaps, but we were disenchanting spellpower plate and knew it wouldn't be an issue.
Our paladin officer invited Landron to the guild and almost immediately took him under his wing. We all hoped that he would work out — but the healers, especially, made an effort to make him feel welcome.
... and then the loot drama started.
Our rules regarding loot are simple, and thoroughly documented on our guild website. We use EPGP to determine priority, with a minimum threshold of 500 Effort Points to bid and all Gear Point values fixed to minimize the effects of hoarding or collusion. We also default loot to main-specs over off-specs and raiders over initiates (although initiates do accumulate Effort Points throughout their two week trial, and are therefore all but guaranteed the first main-spec item that drops after they are promoted to raider).
Several times during his first raid, Landron /whispered me to ask when he would be able to "spend" his points. (Pet peeve: EPGP is a ratio system, not a currency, so nothing is actually "spent." But I digress.) I reiterated our rules, but advised Landron to bid "need" on anything he could use. Even though he was technically ineligible, he was also the only main spec healadin in the raid. He might not see tokens, jewelery or trinkets until after he was promoted, but he had a solid monopoly on spellpower plate.
He thanked me for my explanation ... and proceded to pass on several obvious upgrades.
Why? our master looter asked in /officer chat. I'm just going to DE them, and they're better than his!
I /whispered Landron: "Aren't those an upgrade for you?"
"Sure, but they're not tier gear," he replied. "I'll replace them as soon as I become a raider, and I want to save my points."
"But we decay points by 20% every week," I reminded him gently. "You should upgrade what you can now. There will be a lot of demand for trophies, anyway; everyone will be wearing off-set pieces for a while."
"I pass."
Okay then.
I forwarded Landron's response to /o, and our master looter (who tends to be rather zealous when it comes to his responsibilities) immediately bristled. "He's going to try to cheat the system," Ignus growled. "Just watch."
Sure enough, at the end of the raid, Landron spoke up on Vent. "You know those bracers and pants I passed on earlier? If they're just going to be DE'd anyway, well, I guess I'll take them off your hands."
Ignus (who has a bizarre aversion to Vent; I've known him two years but have never heard him speak) replied in /raid. "Sure. The GP values are ..."
"Wait, what?" Landron interrupted (insfoar that you can interrupt chat). "They're just going to be sharded. Can't I have them for free? They're upgrades for me."
I /whispered Landron at this point, reminding him that our system only works if we follow the same rules for everyone. GP values are fixed so a player who has a monopoly on a particular type of armor (such as spellpower plate) doesn't have an unfair advantage when it comes to shared pieces. I even tried to turn it around on him: "What if we gave Diodorous all of the spellpower leather for free since he's our only caster druid? He'd be able to save all of his points for priority on things like Anub'arak's mace or trinket. The rest of us would never win an item like that until Dio already had it."
Although obviously miffed, Landron thanked me and logged off ... letting the trade timer expire on the legs and bracers he had said he wanted.
He continued to attend every raid, and continued to pass on everything. Ignus remained highly suspicious, but I'm inclined to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and kept a running dialogue with Landron throughout our raids. He wanted tier gear, he maintained. The T9 set bonuses were too good to pass up, and he wasn't interested in sacrificing his priority for temporary upgrades.
Was he attempting to manipulate the system with the EPGP equivalent of DKP hoarding? Or was he just being smart about his bids? I couldn't decide. My master looter wanted him gone — which is usually good enough for me, because (taciturn though he may be) Ignus is an excellent judge of character. But we were already running healer light and I didn't feel right /gkicking someone who might be abusing the system ... especially since I wasn't convinced that he completely understood it.
On Landron's two week anniversary, we had a quick pre-raid meeting in /officer chat and decided to give him a chance: promote him to raider, and see how he bids when he has equal standing to our other players and is riding the top of the priority list.
He continued to pass on everything — including Trophies of the Crusade.
"This is ridiculous," our paladin officer complained in whispers. "I'm passing on marginal upgrades because he's passing. If we both took pieces we'd maintain equal priority, but the loot is just going to rot like this."
I agreed, and whispered Landron. "I thought you were waiting for trophies?"
"I am," he replied. "But I only have points for one, so I'll take it off the last boss if nothing else drops."
"I told you," Ignus wrote in /o when I relayed the message. "I hate him."
We sped through the rest of the instance, and Anub'arak was kind enough to drop his mace (although how he holds it, lacking opposable thumbs, I can't begin to speculate...).
Landron finally bid "need."
On the trophy.
And the mace.
Now, we have always assigned tier tokens first, and other items in the order in which they appear in the boss's loot window. This allows our raiders to strategize their bids — a piece of information I had shared with Landron several times over the course of our "smart loot" debates.
Among the healers, a disc priest had the highest priority, but passed on the mace because he's One Light In The Darkness shy of a legendary. He also passed on the tier piece. ("I don't have the emblems for it yet." /shrug)
Second-highest was Landron. He won his long-awaited trophy, and everyone started to congratulate him on his first piece of T9.
Third-highest was our paladin officer. He won the mace.
We called the raid there.
And Landron went slightly ballistic. He didn't understand why he hadn't won the mace and accused our officers of colluding to keep it within our circle of friends rather than give it to someone who had actually earned it. "I've been waiting two weeks for that!" he railed. "I've worked hard, attended every raid, and gotten absolutely nothing in return."

... Do you remember when I said I don't believe emotionally stable healadins actually exist? This is why. Or, rather, this is one of a long string of why's. >.<
The thing is, until Landron /ragequit over the mace (and changed his name to Nekan for reasons unknown), I was torn on the entire issue. The ethics still seem fuzzy to me. After all, we all tend to strategize our bids. I might pass on a trophy today because the boss we're downing tomorrow drops the trinket I really want. Every boss drops a tier piece, so I'm bound to get one eventually ... but if I know I'm next in line for an upgrade, then I might choose to wait for something doesn't drop so predictably, or for which I'm anticipating stronger competition.
I think everyone does this, to an extent.
So what's the difference between what Landron did, and what I do? Why was he "manipulating the system," whereas I'm simply "smart about my bids."
I'm thinking out loud here, but a large part of it was probably intent. Landron passed on several significant upgrades when he was the only paladin in the raid, knowing that our master looter would hang onto them until the two hour trade window had expired. He was deliberately saving his priority for Anub'arak, and admitted to me in whispers that he planned to ask for the same items he had passed on earlier if nothing else he wanted dropped. (Pro tip: If you're attempting to cheat your guild's loot system, don't share your strategy with your GM! She's not as dumb as her cud makes her look.) He did it as an initiate, when it was just annoying, and he did it as a raider, when other players would have been affected.
I think that opportunity costs should be considered as well. The items Landron passed on were disenchanted, and therefore of no value to the guild. On those occasions that I pass on an item, it's always to another player who can put it to good use; I won't let loot rot that I can use to benefit progression, even if it causes me to expend my priority on a marginal-to-modest upgrade rather than on the significant upgrade I was hoping for. Landron put himself rather than the guild first, and that didn't sit well with the rest of us.
In some ways, this situation is more sad than frustrating. Most of my guildmembers have been playing together for a long time, and the healers are an especially close-knit group. We often discuss upgrades amongst ourselves and pass on an item if we feel someone else would benefit from it more (or just really wants it to complete her perfectly matching set >.> No idea who that would be, though!) If Landron had tried to work with us rather than against us, then he would have realized this — and could very well have ended up with not only the mace, but also the supportive guild community that he claimed on his application to want.
