That one guy

Short post today, because to be honest there is almost zero going on in WoW until the main part of Blizzcon starts.

Today’s topic has to do with how to deal with “That One Guy” in your guild or raid team that drives you up a wall. You know the one. The guy (generic gender usage here) that insists on inserting himself into every conversation, that lets you know how insulted he is that he was not asked to join your instance group, that gets Terribly Hurt Feelings when told his damage numbers (below the tank’s in spite of very decent gear level) need to improve, that takes umbrage when asked to not make extraneous comments during combat in the raid voice channel, that feels slighted if lots of people do not LOL to his “witty” comments in gchat or any of the dozens of cat videos he spams the guild Discord channel with. He natters on for weeks before his birthday about how he doesn’t want anyone to make a fuss over it, he continually whines to everyone about his constant “migraines” or his mysterious sicknesses or perpetual tiredness and uses them as an excuse for snarky behavior. He is a professional victim of constant misunderstanding. He uses every gchat or voice channel comment as a springboard to “prove” his intellectual depth and knowledge. You know the guy. His picture is posted in the dictionary under “passive-aggressive”.

Usually if we think about it, the problem is not so much with That Guy as it is with our own response to him — lots of different kinds of people in this world, and we all have to learn how to deal with them in a civilized fashion, sooner or later. We need to adopt a mature, reasoned approach to the problem. We should be compassionate and allow for the possibility that maybe he has a real psychological problem. (Although we are not sure if there is a medical term for Compulsive Asshat Syndrome.)

But deep down what we are really thinking is, “I want to fling a mud pie in that guy’s face!”

Every time I have run into this situation — and it has not been often in my time in WoW — I feel like every solution is unsatisfactory. That Guy is so pervasive that it is virtually impossible to just not pay attention to him, he is the virtual equivalent of always in your face. Putting him on /ignore in gchat works to an extent, but there is the nagging feeling that you should not have to do that with a fellow guildie, that we should all be adults and just politely get along. Putting him on Local Mute in Mumble — or some equivalent — is possible, but you run the risk of wiping the raid because he might actually say something important to execution. Unlikely, but possible.

Responding to him — taking the bait — is not going to accomplish anything other than a drama situation for the guild, which is even worse than suffering this fool. Complaining about him to a guild officer or the GM just paints you as a whiny snowflake — they may actually feel the same way about him, but if he walks a careful line and does not technically break any guild rules, they would appear arbitrary if they kick him, and that perception is not good for a guild in the long run. (Although one wishes it were possible to establish an objective Jerk standard and anyone who met it could clearly be kicked …)

So there really are no good solutions. Unfortunately, the continued existence of That Guy can have subtle effects on a guild — we may decide to no longer log in on Wednesday and Friday nights, for example, because we know that is his prime game time. We start to think up excuses to call out on raid nights. We politely decline Mythic+ invitations if we know he will be one of the group. Et cetera. Over time, one person can in fact contribute to a guild’s decline, even in the absence of overt drama. The situation can be insidiously damaging.

Luckily, these situations often self-correct — That Guy decides he is not sufficiently appreciated and leaves the guild, or he initiates an obvious drama situation that causes him to be kicked. Still, it is uncomfortable until that happens.

Meanwhile, I think I may have a conflict with next week’s raid ….

Childhood and journey

I remember when I rolled my very first WoW character and lost myself in the game. It was my night elf hunter, back when hunters didn’t get their first pet until level 10, and by the way level 10 took a lot longer than the twenty minutes it now does. I remember those early quests in Teldrassil, figuring out how to move around, getting the concept of “targeting” something, coordinating that with a standard key bind to “shoot” the mob. I remember the surprise I got when eventually the target mobs actually attacked me if I got too close, rather than stand passively and wait for me to kill them. I remember getting almost hopelessly lost in my first cave quest, and to be honest I have disliked caves ever since.

When I made my way to Darkshore as a level 7, I got in a bit over my head and learned the tried and true technique of dying, getting back to my corpse, resurrecting at the absolute edge of where it was possible, and running like hell for about 5 seconds before dying again, then repeating the process until I made it to a safe area. It was harrowing.

I had been blow away when I discovered Darnassas — surely it was the game’s largest, most beautiful city? (I remember those ?level 60? NPCs majestically patrolling the road to the city on their gorgeous white tiger mounts, and I was in awe of such a high level. I could never aspire to that!) But then I accidentally got on a ship that took me to Stormwind, and an entirely new continent, and that was my first glimmer that the game was vastly larger and more complex than I had ever imagined.

Still, I was not intimidated by it. I loved that it was virtually infinite, that there was always something new to discover, something new to learn about the game, another level you could progress to.

I remember when I learned about groups. There was a Looking-for-Group chat channel, as I recall — some sort of very primitive precursor to the LFG mechanism we have now. I subscribed to it for weeks before I got up enough nerve to actually join a group for an instance. I think I was about level 20, but I am not sure — it was such a horrible experience that I have blotted it from my memory. I had no concept of group roles, so I immediately shot at anything that moved until some kind soul said something in chat like, “Hunter making it tough for the tank,” a hint that I was — thankfully — smart enough to take.

About halfway through (I think the instance was Gnomeregen, but as I said I have tried to block it all out) I ran out of arrows and was reduced to melee weapon and fists. Yeah, that was when hunters had to carry arrows in their bag in order to use their bow. If you ran out, shame on you. That was also when you could actually level your fists as weapons — you did this by unequipping all your weapons (hunters had both ranged and melee back then) and killing mobs until your fist proficiency level matched your character level.

Back to the group, there was some sort of mechanism where we had to jump from a machine to a specific spot, and of course I missed and died. I was told to run back, and I got so lost that I never did find the group again. I just ran around periodically aggroing mobs and dying and running back again. And again. And again. Sometimes it took me forever just to find my corpse. Eventually they kicked me, I guess, because I was no longer part of the group. I am surprised they had such patience, really. Not one of my best moments in the game…

It was even later when I learned about gear. By this time I had joined a guild, and I was invited to quest with some of the guildies. One of them noticed that I was wearing very low level vendor gear and was horrified. He opened trade and gave me a bunch of green gear closer to my character level. I honestly had never even considered that gear made a difference. I was perfectly happy with buying a bow or whatever from a vendor. I had no clue there was a difference between the stuff labeled in gray and the stuff labeled in white or green. (I had never seen anything blue or higher, so that was not even a question for me.) The notion that green gear could help you kill stuff faster was truly a revelation to me.

I won’t even discuss my epiphany when I realized that cloth or leather gear was worse for a hunter than mail. Or that eventually you had to repair gear or you couldn’t use it. Yes, I really was that clueless.

I am not sure I have much of a point here, but it strikes me that that kind of innocent discovery and leisurely exploration are really no longer part of the game. The days of it being all about the journey, not the goal, seem over. As vast and complex as I thought the game was then, it is immeasurably more vast and complex now. It is also more fast paced, players as a group seem to have little tolerance for anyone who exhibits ignorance of the game’s traditions and mechanics, and Blizz seems to design now mainly for the end game, not for the process of discovery.

Think about it, when is the last time you saw a guild advertising itself as a “leveling guild”? For that matter, when is the last time you actually ran across a low level player who was experiencing the game for the first time, without a RL friend to help and guide them?

Like Thomas Wolfe said, you really can’t go home again — the bygone days of youth, whether real or virtual, are — well — gone by. I know I can’t recapture the innocent wonder and joy of my early days in WoW, I know too much about end games and Wowhead and how to develop professions and how to use heirlooms and what to expect at every level of a character. I have chosen to raid on my main, and so I am now completely steeped in the endgame gear chase, in getting to the next gear goal as fast as possible. I no longer take the time to discover, I just look it up on Wowhead or some place and get it done, then move on to the next thing.

So yeah, I have done this to myself, I admit it. But I also think Blizz has encouraged me, along with a lot of other players, in this mindset. They are fixated on the end game, on an endlessly-expanding artifact weapon, on accumulating legendaries and tier gear and battle pets and mounts. They seem to promote a sense that leveling a character is only a means to the end game, and they — and we — have lost the joy of the journey itself. I can’t shake the feeling that WoW, while never a “sandbox” game, was once a game of process and discovery, but that it has morphed into a Type A personality kind of game, where getting to the end is the sole definition of “winning”.

To quote that noted American philosopher, Louis L’Amour, “The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.”

And try to remember to stock up on arrows before you go.

Guild-y thoughts

Nothing of great interest in this post. It is just a sort of history of my guild journeys. You can easily skip it and you won’t miss anything.

As we seem to be in a pause in the pace of Legion just now — a good thing, in my opinion — I have been thinking a little about the role and nature of guilds in WoW. I will admit up front that I am a big supporter of them as a structure in the game, but I also know there are pros and cons to belonging to one. At times I envy the independence and freedom of those players who eschew guild membership, and to be honest I rather admire them for their willingness to play — and enjoy — the game completely solo. But when I weigh everything, I personally come down on the side of belonging to a guild.

In my very early days in the game (I started playing at the tail end of Burning Crusade) — when I had only my hunter character and was leveling up, I joined a couple of guilds randomly, stuck around for maybe a week or so, then left. I had no ties to them, I had only answered their chat spam. Once I was in them, I could really see no benefit for me — their guild chat was not especially friendly or welcoming, and the players that were around my level all seemed to have their own set little questing groups. So I didn’t stick around long.

My first real guild experience came when a RL friend of mine invited me to a guild he belonged to. That was where I began to appreciate some of the fun parts of guild membership, and where I got my first taste of how much more fun dungeons and quests were with a group you knew. Unfortunately, the guild was in its waning days, and it dissolved within a couple of months of my joining.

My friend found another guild (one his ex belonged to, but that’s another story) and I was invited to join it. The members were nice enough, and we ran a few dungeons together from time to time, but my strongest memory is that it was just weird, in a funny-strange sort of way. I play on what is ostensibly an RP realm (almost nobody RPs on it except the perverts in Goldshire), and apparently the people in the guild thought RP required a certain manner of speaking. Mind you, they did not really do RP, just enforced what they thought was a speech requirement. It consisted almost entirely of using the pronouns thee and thy and their variationsand sometimes throwing in a few ye‘s and yonder‘s along with some random uses of doth, dost and hath.

It was hysterically ridiculous, not only for the stupidity of the rule, but also because no one in the guild had the slightest idea how to properly use these words. Thee was always used as the subject of a sentence (not properly as an object) in place of “you”. The proper nominative usage, thou, was never used. Thy and thine were used interchangeably and at random as possessives, with no regard to the similar a/an usage today. Egregiously, ye was used not as the second person nominative plural but as a substitute for “the”. Doth and dost were also used pretty much at random, rather than as the third person singular and second person singular, respectively. It was at once painful and hilarious. Some actual examples from guild chat:

  • “Thee can repair thine gear at ye armorer in yonder shoppe.”
  • “Thee needs to hurry, we art in ye dungeon already.”
  • “Thine chat comments dost not conform to our guild rules. We hath these rules because we art on an RP server.”
  • “Doth thee have a cat pet thee couldeth use?”

Yeah, that guild, too, soon disintegrated. Not such a bad thing…

But I digress. By this time in my guild career, my friend had stopped playing the game and therefore — possibly for the best, given his track record — I was on my own to find a new guild. As all my previous guilds had been relatively small ones, I started to look for a really large guild, figuring that even if there was some drama, that it would affect only some of the members not the entire guild. Also, I felt like in a large guild I would have a better chance of finding a sub-group I was comfortable playing with.

Thus I joined what was at the time the largest guild on my server. It was a social guild, but it had a reasonable raid team. There were always organized guild activities, and a lot of people playing on any given night. I was completely oblivious to guild politics, so when there was a dead-of-the-night coup that resulted in a new GM and a whole new slate of officers, I just took it in stride. Eventually I became an officer in this guild, and I stayed with it for almost five years. But it, too, withered. Shortly after the “coup”, guild policies became more and more restrictive, and it lost many of its members. In short order it was no longer even close to the largest on the server. The GM and co-GM held power tightly centralized, so that even the officers had very little say in shaping of policy. For about a year, officers were not even allowed to invite people to the guild without GM approval. Still, I really liked the people in the guild, including the GM and co-GM, so I stayed. Also, I have this damned loyalty gene, and I will not abandon something I have committed to until the situation becomes intolerable.

Eventually the rather repressive nature of the guild, combined with the ravages of WoD, took its toll. We could no longer field even 10 people to raid, and nightly activity dwindled to maybe two or three people on at a time. I wanted to raid on my main hunter, but there was a rule that we could not belong to another guild on the same realm, even with alts, we had to fully commit to this guild all or nothing. I lobbied hard for several weeks and finally won permission to take my alt hunter and a druid alt to another actual raiding guild, as long as I did not say anything about it in guild chat. This of course should have been a final straw for me, but like I said, overdeveloped sense of loyalty….

I finally did leave that guild, though — with a great deal of guilt and angst — and took my main and all my alts to the raiding guild. Sadly, within a couple of months this guild, too, pretty much stopped raiding. (WoD was truly a guild-killer.)

While I had been with my long-term guild, one night during Mists I answered a trade chat request to cut a gem for someone. The person came to me and had mats, so it was nothing for me to cut it. When it was done, they wanted to give me a 100g tip (lot of gold at the time), but I refused because it had been so trivial a thing for me to do. We chatted for a bit, and the person said they were an officer in a certain named guild, and if I ever decided to change guilds I would be welcome there. I filed the guild name away and pretty much forgot about it for a couple of years.

Thus, when I found myself once again guildless, I researched this guild and found they were still very active, had an excellent raid team, and were accepting new members. I applied, was accepted after a short in-game interview, and so that is where I landed, and where I have happily been for almost two years now.

There is no real point to this post, I guess, except to say that sometimes it can take a while to find your niche. In my case, a long while. In my guild journeys, I have discovered a few things about myself. One is that, while I am rather passionate about hot-button topics IRL, I absolutely abhor discussing them in WoW. It just is not the place, in my opinion. I have seen drama tear a guild apart, and nothing induces drama more than arguments about politics or religion or social issues. Just not worth it.

Another thing I have learned is that I need to choose a guild methodically and wisely, because my stupid loyalty fixation will force me to stick with it even if I am miserable.

Last, I know for sure that belonging to a guild — even though there can be drawbacks to it — really enhances the game experience for me. My hope is that Blizz will also rediscover this notion and maybe implement some guild-promotion mechanisms in the next expansion. They have done it before but suddenly backed off. I would like to see them go back to it.

Thee shouldeth giveth me thy opinions on ye guild structure in WoW.

WoW as a personality mirror

Yesterday, according to MMO-C reporting, there was a dev pseudo-interview about raid and encounter design. I did not know about it in advance, and I would not have watched it even if I had known. If you are interested in it you can read the crib notes here. I would say you can also watch the video but apparently some of it is “proprietary” so not available unless you go to the Snotbag Slootbag Twitch account. I am only guessing about this, as I was not interested enough to track it down.

You may have surmised I am not a big fan of Slootbag, and you would surmise correctly. I do not know the guy personally, I only know my impressions of his public persona. He may be a fantastic human being in person, but in my opinion he presents the public image of a supercilious, slick, weaselly, chiseler out to advance his own name at any cost, to get all he can while the gettin’ is good. The “interview” yesterday was less about getting encounter design info out than it was about Slootbag tooting his horn about how connected he is and what a fantastic interviewer he is, not to mention what a great raider and gifted player he is. He has been a part of a slimy world-first guild that looked the other way while he and others almost certainly crossed the line in their game play. So, yeah, I am not a fan, but that is neither here nor there. I suspect he is not a fan of mine, either, if he even knows much less cares that I exist. Trashing him is not the focus of this post, but his public persona serves as a jumping off point for my real focus.

I have a theory that you are who you are in WoW. I know there is another point of view — that WoW and similar games are where people try out alternate personas and experiment with psyches that may be the polar opposite of who they are in real life. I suppose some of that happens from time to time, but I think over the long run such pretense is very hard to maintain, and people revert to their real selves even in their avatars.

I think the anonymity of MMOs encourages the real core personality to emerge. You are free from normal social restrictions on behavior, and you act according to your own internal morality code. If that code is based on empathy, kindness, trustworthiness, honor, etc., then that is how you interact with others in the virtual world. On the other hand, if your core morality is based on personal resentment, unfettered ego, greed, or other less attractive human qualities, then that, too, is what emerges in your online persona. Virtual anonymity assures us that no one will report our behavior to our parents or our significant others or our close friends, so we are completely free to be exactly the person we are with no fear of censure from those we care about. It is at once liberating and frightening.

WoW is a microcosm of this greater virtual uninhibited world. You see true unfettered behavior in activities like trade chat, pugs, LFR, and chance world or quest encounters. Some players prey on the weak, others go out of their way to help. Interestingly, I think guilds tend to moderate this Lord of the Flies behavior, because they add a certain amount of social accountability back into the equation. You are no longer completely independent of organized society — you are held to some standard of behavior codified by the guild, and you know there is a chance that if you violate this standard you will be held accountable for it. In other words, guild membership establishes a kind of non-anonymity in an otherwise anonymous virtual world, and some of the social restrictions of the real world start to apply.

I am someone who wants to believe most people are good at their core, that given a chance they will nearly always try to do right by their fellow human. Sadly, I am coming around more and more to the realization that a sizeable number of people will only behave honorably if there is a punishment for not doing so. In the real world, that punishment is frequently social or family censure, but it is also more concrete reactions like a guaranteed punch in the nose or legal punishments or losing one’s job.

In WoW, this was driven home to me with Blizz’s fairly recent reaction to the toxicity of trade chat. Left alone, that channel became a cesspool of spewed hatred, vile language, and implied threats of extreme violence. It was run by bullies and trolls, and they stomped down anyone daring to speak up against them. Then about a year ago or so, Blizz announced they were implementing a system of immediate and graduated bans for reported bad behavior in the game, including in chat. And they followed through. Miraculously, trade chat improved almost overnight. This is a good thing, but it is sad that it only happened because suddenly there was actual punishment for bad behavior. It does not give one great faith in the innate goodness of humanity.

So, even though it depresses me a little, I still think you are who you are in WoW. And if you are the self-aware, introspective type, that can help you to become a better person, to see yourself as others see you. When I look at my WoW characters and how they interact with other players, I see someone who basically would never cheat others or berate them for their play style or gear, someone who is happy to give mats and crafted items to guildies and donate to the guild bank, someone who can be relied on to show up for raids on time and be prepared, someone who values her word and would never go back on it. Someone you can trust. That is really who I am. But I also see someone who can be snippy and snarky, who has a quick temper, who lacks confidence, and who frequently obsesses over imperfections in the game. That is also who I really am. A mixed picture, but a picture nonetheless, and one I can use to improve myself.

And now, I will further improve myself by enjoying a beer on the front porch and starting my weekend. You enjoy yours.

Cheats and chiselers and lines not to be crossed

Blizzard just announced that they had “taken action” against some players who were accepting real world currency for in-game assistance, such as carrying players for raid clears. You can read the Blue Post here, courtesy of MMO-C.

This is absolutely reasonable action from Blizz. The activities were clear violations of the Terms of Service agreement, and some forum posters claimed it was getting out of hand — blatant advertisements abounded. I wouldn’t know about that, I tend to be quite naive about these matters. Still, there is a line between the in-game economy and the real world one, at least as far as players are concerned. Blizz went to some pains to point out that raid carries for gold, for example, are perfectly legitimate. It is just when actual rent-spendable money enters in that it becomes illegitimate.

In-game gold versus real-world money is a line most of us can understand, but I wonder if Blizz itself has not blurred that distinction a bit with their introduction of the token. By becoming their own gold seller, they have legitimized a direct connection between real world money and in-game gold. If you have the money, you can pretty much amass as much gold as you want in the game. Yes, you have limits placed on you in terms of how many tokens you can buy over a period of time, but if someone is patient and well-off, they can easily max out gold on every character on every account.

Not that having millions and millions of gold gets you much in the game nowadays, beyond a certain Scrooge McDuck feeling of wallowing in wealth. The reason Blizz’s gold selling has not become pay-for-play is that they have severely curtailed the number of game-enhancing buyable items available. In WoD, for example, you could buy competitive high-level crafted gear, but you were limited to equipping just three such items, thereby ensuring players with a lot of gold could not immediately outfit themselves with raid-level gear. In Legion, Blizz allows unlimited pieces of crafted gear to be equipped, but they prohibit selling (thus, buying) such gear above level 815. It can only be upgraded if it is soulbound — again, prohibiting wealthy players from easily (if expensively) outfitting themselves with high level gear.

Another thing the token has done is give everyone a quantitative way to value in-game items and activities. In the U.S., one token currently buys you approximately 90k gold, and it costs $20. Thus, if for example a guild is selling Nighthold clears for 200k gold (I have no clue if this is the going rate or not), a player contemplating buying the service can know that this means the true cost to them is $30-$40. (If the player is an in-game buyer of tokens as a way to pay for their subscription, then the cost is approximately $30, or two months’ play time. If the player is an in-game seller of tokens for gold, then the cost is $40, or about two game store token purchases.)

Similarly, if a piece of BoE gear is priced at 100k gold, a player can evaluate whether or not it is worth one month’s play time ($15), or $20 of their hard-earned cash from the other perspective.

Still, even if the real world versus game world line has become a bit blurrier, it is still there, and it certainly does not justify crossing it.

Which leads me to the other aspect of Blizz’s announcement that gave me pause. Of note, they indicated some of the presumably-banned players were members of world-first guilds. This is troubling, for basically the same reason I discussed in a previous post: that is, it indicates a lack of high standards of integrity in these guilds. Let’s be honest — there is no way guild management could have been unaware of the money-grubbing actions of the members engaging in this illicit business. But for whatever reason, the guilds these players belong to chose to do nothing about it — the best you can say is they gave tacit approval, and the worst is that they may have shared in the profits.

I know I will get hate mail for this, but given the apparent high profile of some of the guilty ones, I think in this case a bit of naming and shaming might have been in order. If not the actual players involved, then maybe the guilds they belonged to. “Don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time.” Maybe a little guild embarrassment would be good incentive to police their own members in future.

How much better it would have been if, when the guilds suspected some of their members were doing it, they issued explicit instructions to knock that shit off or face expulsion. At the very least, they might have taken a page from professional sports and benched the offending players for some amount of time or levied a fine of some sort. Any guild sanction would have demonstrated these professional guilds are serious about policing their own, serious about upholding high standards of behavior. Sadly, insofar as any of us knows, they did not.

I am certain I could play this game forever and not give a flying fig about world first achievements or the inner workings of the professional guilds. I do not care about the pseudo-celebrity players in them. But I do care that some of the players and guilds I encounter in the game seek to emulate those semi-pro players and their guilds. If their role models are cheats and chiselers, then that attitude may well spread down through the game, and it will take away from my enjoyment of it.

In a perfect world — or even an above-average one — guilds would be incensed if their members cheated, and they would take drastic and public action to ensure everyone knew such behavior was unacceptable, to uphold the rules of the game they play, indeed the game they are leaders in. But sadly this is not the case, and we are left with some guilds that get while the getting is good, knowing they need take no responsibility because Blizz will step in and police their players for them. Well, good for you, Blizz. And shame on you, all you who know who you are.

Of guilds and friendships

Last night was probably one of the most fun raid nights I have ever participated in. We did a full clear of Nighthold (N), a few people got some tier gear, and the whole evening was one of lighthearted banter and easy camaraderie. We started by me accidentally resting my fingers a little too hard on my keyboard, pulling Skorpyron just as we were filtering into the room, but we recovered sufficiently to not wipe. I was horrified, but everyone took it in good humor although of course they did not let me live it down for the whole night.

It was the kind of night that reminds me why I am still playing this game — the social aspect. In my case, I do not play with any real life friends, only people I have met virtually. Still, after spending at least 8 hours a week with them for over a year, they are people I would call friends. There are real life friends that I spend far less time with.

“Virtual friends” is a legitimate name for online relationships, and I suppose it could be shortened to “v-friends”. It’s an interesting phenomenon in our modern world, and I am sure someone has written a PhD dissertation on it at some point.

Prior to the computer age, people had “pen pals” — someone with whom you corresponded via letters — so I guess they were the v-friends of long ago. Sometimes pen pal relationships went on for years, but they depended almost exclusively on mutual appreciation of exchanged words, possibly with the occasional graphic representation in the form of drawings or maybe a photograph. You had no ability to look at their facial expressions, to hear vocal nuances, to hug or hold a hand in times of distress. Yet we read of many such relationships not only enduring but growing over the course of a lifetime.

V-friends seem to me to be the pen pals of the modern age, but they are pen pals on steroids, closer to real friends than to letter friends, but still not the same. You can share experiences in real time, and you can use voice chat to hear their vocal inflections, regional accent, even their laugh. But you cannot hug them or hold their hand, you will almost certainly not run to pick them up if they are stranded at the airport or have a flat tire, and you cannot see the emotion in their faces or body language. Still, you care about them and you enjoy their virtual company.

Anyway, I am not sure where I am going with this, but it was something I was thinking about as we made our way through Nighthold last night. I was just really reminded of how social this game is, or at least how much more fun it is for me when the social aspects work.

Which leads me to another point, and that is that I would very much like to see Blizz make guilds more relevant in the next expansion. It seems to me that the trend since Mists has been to make the game more of a solo endeavor, that the benefits of belonging to a guild have been steadily chipped away. I am not saying guilds are dead, and I am not implying that someone should have to belong to a guild to play the game. But from my worm’s-eye view, it feels like the most successful guilds are the ones that exist primarily to facilitate end game raiding — a fun activity, but it just seems like there should be benefits for guilds that exist mainly for the game’s social aspect aside from raiding.

I don’t know if the guild leveling idea was a good one or not, but I do know that its existence tended to promote guild activities in pursuit of a higher guild level. People showed up on guild activity night to work on the next group achievement, and small groups of guildies often worked on the more obscure achievements on an ad hoc basis. There used to be tangible benefits to guild membership, but about the only one I can think of now beyond raiding is guild mail. Blizz apparently found instances of abuse among some of the guild perks, and in their typical lazy fashion decided to eliminate the perks rather than fix the loopholes.

In the next expansion, I would love to see:

  • Guild halls, with some vendors and gathering places and maybe their own pseudo-custom music, a hearthstone portal, and guild ability to decorate. (Maybe with actual guild screenshots as wall hangings?) I have no idea how technically feasible any of this is, but it seems like if we can have individual garrisons and class halls, we can certainly have guild halls.
  • A new approach to guild achievements — make them ones that guild members need to work on together for things non-instance and non-raid related. Maybe add some more weekly achievements, consider adding things like community service guild achievements (pick up paper in the park, sweep the streets of a sector in Stormwind, repair the roof of the Keep, all members of certain classes in the guild do things like mages conduct a free portal activity in the square or hunters gather X amount of meat for the King, or tailors create X number of pieces of clothing for the orphans, etc.)
  • Make the rewards for achievements actually mean something — yes, I think this should involve reinstatement of guild perks. Bring back cauldrons, mass rez, guild summoning, significant gold for the guild bank, more guild-earned gear and mounts and pets, whatever.
  • Set up some kind of system whereby small guilds are not penalized — maybe a series of categories by size, and the achievements are pegged to that in terms of the scale of effort needed. Something I have mentioned before — and I still think is a good idea — is allowing guilds to belong to consortiums, loose organizations of guilds where the members cooperate in activities (maybe even have their own consortium chat channel) but retain their individual identities and memberships.

These are suggestions I have not totally thought through, and there may be reasons they are not feasible, but the point is I would like to see Blizz  come up with creative ways to strengthen the role of guilds in the game.

WoW’s major attraction when it started was that it was a social game, and I would like the next expansion to start to reverse the solo trend and return us at least a little to the game’s roots.

Because v-friends are friends, too. Even when they accidentally pull the boss.

What a difference a week makes

Last week at about this time, I was stressing over the impending attack of Snowzilla on our area. In the game, I was convinced my raiding days were over, that I would forever more be consigned to dreary LFR or chancy pugs. True, I had just joined a new guild, but it seemed big and intimidating, filled with players far beyond my skills. The Legion news — what scraps there were of it — seemed once again to indicate it would soon be time for me to find a new game.

Like I said in the title, what a difference a week makes. Today all our snow is under control and we are looking at several days of warm melting weather, such that nearly all of it looks like it will be gone by this time next week. It’s too early, but I find myself thinking of spring and planning my garden. (The ultimate triumph of optimism over experience!)

Last night, in another triumph of optimism, I joined a guild alt/fun run of HFC(N). I am happy to report that, while I may not have distinguished myself, neither did I embarrass myself. (If the raid had been a Broadway production, I would have been an unremarkable member of the chorus line. I’ll take that.)

Remember, for all practical purposes I have not raided since early April of 2015. Before that team fell apart, we got through a few (but not all) bosses in Blackrock Foundry, and did the first 4 in HFC once only by the skin of our teeth. That’s it. So last night I was an LFR hero trying to run a normal HFC for the first time, with a group whose alts are much better geared than my main, and a team that is 13/13H and has been running together for years.

No pressure.

I had studied my butt off before the raid, made 6 pages of notes on the differences between LFR and normal for every boss, watched FatBoss and other videos on all of them, spent an hour in front of a target dummy brushing up on some MM skills, replenished my supplies of food, flasks, pots, got myself connected to and tested on Mumble, etc. I went through my DBM settings and made sure all possible raid-wiping debuffs were going to really get my attention, double checked my talents and glyphs, and even ran a practice LFR Iskar just to check out the Iskar Assist addon. (We skipped Iskar last night luckily.)

It was a fun night. We had close to 15 running, almost everyone on alts, we downed 9 bosses with zero wipes. I died once because of stupidity on Kilrogg, once to trash, and once on Mannoroth but I don’t count that one because I literally died at the exact same second the boss did. And the RNG gods were smiling upon me, because I got two tier pieces — my first two! — on bonus rolls.

It felt good to be raiding again with people who hit the sweet spot between casual and hardcore. After three hours with them, the guild seems less monolithic and intimidating. And even though I could see that some of my skills were pretty rusty after  a 9 month layoff, I got a measure of my self-confidence back.

So, snow problems — under control, check.

Guild and raid angst — greatly diminished, check.

Legion news — well, 2 out of 3 is not bad I guess.

Yes, I remain very pessimistic about Legion. I am not ready to write about all the reasons why yet, but I cannot shake the impression that we players are a baby whose Blizz mother is really pushing the strained beets. “Mmmmmmm, yummy! Don’t they look good? Mommy wishes she could have some! Open the hangar, heeeeerre comes the airplane! Zoom, zoom!”

So I will amend my previous statement: For everything except Legion, what a difference a week makes.

Have a great weekend.