Showing posts with label anub'arak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anub'arak. Show all posts

Thursday, March 13, 2014

3.58. Procrastinators Anonymous

DoD defeats all ten Faction Champions at once,
earning "Resilience Will Fix It (25 Player)",
Tournament of Champions

Sands Through the Hourglass

Blain wasted no time pushing Si Team toward achievement completion. He took hold of the 10-Man stagecoach with all the seriousness of his former 25-Man leading days that I remembered well. The last wintery month of 2009 saw our 10-Man's total obliteration of the first wing in ICC, a shower of achievements raining down in the process. Si Team's first official outing took place on the evening of Saturday, December 12th -- one day after the progression team's first exposure to Arthas' army. In that introductory run, we claimed victory over both "Boned (10 Player)" and "I've Gone and Made a Mess (10 Player)", but Blain wouldn't let up. The next two weeks were primarily spent alleviating the burden of "Full House (10 Player)", an annoyingly complicated kill in which the team artificially dragged the encounter out, spawning far more cultists than was necessary for a standard execution. Dispatching the cultists was easy...forcing an abundance of them to spawn while not being overwhelmed was a tad more vicious in difficulty. Still, Si Team had positioning and strategy polished by the 30th, knocking both it and "I'm on a Boat (10 Player)" out in the same evening.

Aside from the one signifying a full clear of the first wing, the 25-Man had not yet completed an ICC achievement.

Before you rush to condemn Omaric and Bretthew, however, allow me to add some context that may be absent from the story thus far. The dual 25-Man raid leaders had an entirely different mission to accomplish and were busy leading the flock to that end. As noted earlier, raiders who plowed through the Lower Spire were left with plenty of time on their hands, but this free time slowly trickled away as The Plagueworks' unlock date approached. Like a whiteboard from bizarro land, legacy boss names yet to be murdered still appeared in blood red. For Omaric and Bretthew, their immediate concern was to wipe the red away, and rewrite those names in black. Whatever held us up by this point -- gearing concerns, poor players over the holidays -- had to be put to rest.

---

Our tour of duty started on a cold evening in the middle of December, beginning with Faction Champions. Omaric and Bretthew led us through a granular, heavily micromanaged attack on the Alliance heroes. The goal was to have them all killed within 60 seconds of the first champion's death; the ten Alliance heroes would not make it easy for us. Not only were they randomly chosen from a pool of a possible fourteen, causing to us to adjust our strategy week-to-week, the fight unfolded as if we had dropped out of the sky and into an Arathi Basin blacksmith battle already in progress. Each enemy acted like a player would in PvP, they'd crowd-control, silence, fear, do everything they could to perplex the raid team. In order to pull this off, the raid team would have to demonstrate a bit of PvP savvy of their own -- street smarts that didn't often come naturally to players preferring PvE. Attempts to complete the achievement filled the majority of our evening, finally coming to a close at just three minutes shy of 10 o'clock. The Faction Champions lay at our feet on the floor of the coliseum, within the time dictated by the achievement. "Resilience Will Fix It (25 Player)" was off the whiteboard, the investment of time acting as a painful reminder that some of us needed to revisit Arenas.

The raid leaders weighed the differences in difficulty between what lay ahead in ToC against other outstanding red names. Their judgement was to shift gears once again. So, we returned to the snow-capped peaks cradling Ulduar. We hopped off our Ironbound Proto-Drakes to enter the ancient titan city, making our way deep behind enemy lines, through ancient twisting architecture, arriving at the sealed door marked by four elements. Omaric pressed his virtual hand up against the lock where four symbols were marked: a green leaf, red flame, white snowflake, and blue bolt of lighting. The locks beamed brightly upon activation and spiraled apart; the enormous doors slid open to reveal a massive chamber of stars. We approached via a long causeway, and the floor itself became glass as our insignificant selves collected near the circular platform. We were in the Celestial Planetarium, home to a timeless Titan guardian charged with observing the "Azeroth Experiment" in the absence of his creators.

This was Algalon the Observer, the solitary hard-mode only encounter in Ulduar.

DoD defeats Algalon the Observer,
earning "Observed (25 Player)",
Ulduar

Astral Walkers

When not fielding the excitement of homeless people suffering heart attacks at my front door, I had the luxury of attending a 10-Man defeat of Algalon a few weeks earlier. Much to the delight of the raid leaders, a sizable chunk of the 25-Man progression team shared similar exposure. Ostensibly, this first hand experience would ease us into a flatter learning curve for the more significant 25-Man execution on deck. The gamble paid off. No mechanics significantly differed between 10 and 25. The only noticeable change was the most logical: everything hit harder, the go-to stratagem Blizzard employed when attempting to scale raid difficulty. In many cases, scaling damage while keeping all other mechanics intact was a viable solution, the effect of which produced a "lite" version in 10-Man mode, perfect for those guilds who chose to approach raiding with a less serious amount of dedication. On the flip side, being exposed to this simpler version gave 25-Man raiding guilds an edge in learning the more brutal implementation. Like add-ons, I saw the 10-Man versions as tools, and we would take advantage of every tool we could in order to maintain competitive 25-Man progression.

Algalon attempts were noticeably tighter. One might predict this behavior was a result of the looming timer hovering atop the raid's UI -- a permanent reminder burned into all eyes that every second was precious...and slipping away. With only one hour of attempts per week, attempts had to be efficient, recoveries quick. It was imperative that the mechanics of the encounter remained fresh in players' minds from week to week. The more new faces we took each week, the tougher the challenge grew as we revisited mechanics: dodging the cosmic smash, watching out for the living constellations, being aware of black holes and their tendency to appear underfoot. Indeed, December was focused heavily on ridding ourselves of Algalon, and after what seemed like an eternity, he fell on the fifth week of attempts, two days after Christmas morning. To us, Algalon seemed to stretch out the fabric of time, but for the Celestial Guardian himself, it was a mere four hours and eleven minutes in a room with Descendants of Draenor.

Algalon's defeat by the 25-Man progression team marked our official completion of Ulduar in its entirety. To this day, it remains one of (if not) the most remarkable experiences ever put in front of us. The addition of a final "hard mode only" boss provided an unmatched level of polish to Ulduar. It was a final, significant challenge to sate the hunger of progression-focused raiders, giving them one last chance to push themselves to new levels, ones they most likely never thought achievable. In the changing landscape that was raid content in World of Warcraft, where "hard modes" were optional, and standard clears were a mindless endeavor, bosses like Algalon sent a message back to the raiding community:

We know that not all raiders share the same dedication to tackling difficult content, and that shouldn't be a barrier to entry...

...but some of you are still out there. Let's see if you have what it takes.


The 25-Man progression team poses after their defeat
of Algalon the Observer,
Ulduar
Descendants of Draenor took up that challenge, and became Astral Walkers for our efforts. "Hard mode only" bosses would show up again in Cataclysm and beyond, but Algalon the Observer would be last hard-mode only boss that Descendants of Draenor ever completed in 25-Man during its relevance in raid progression.

DoD keeps everyone from staying impaled over 8 seconds
during Lord Marrowgar, earning "Boned (25 Player)",
Icecrown Citadel

Cramming

A blue post confirmed our suspicions. The second wing of Icecrown Citadel, the Plagueworks, would unlock on January 5th, 2010. We'd spent December diverting all our efforts into ToC and Algalon; we had some catching up to do. The final weekend before the 5th saw the 25-Man progression team shifting into overdrive in an attempt to make up lost time. The first checkpoint was "Boned (25 Player)", an execution of Lord Marrowgar in which no member of the raid team remained impaled longer than eight seconds. Rogues and warlocks dominated this fight; burst damage exploded out of players like Riskers, Blain, Eacavissi and Mangetsu, essential to freeing impaled players. Sandwiched between their yellow and purple bars sat our lone boomkin Bulwinkul, bending the night sky to his whim as gestures painted in the air forced blasts of moonlight into Marrowgar's three heads. Meanwhile, I continued to focus my attention on improving DPS, noting that Hellspectral -- a fellow death knight whom had only just respecc'd to frost -- was quickly gaining on me. Without serious improvement on my end, he'd surpass me, a lathe continuing to shave off what little credibility I clung to as a means of justifying the first Shadowmourne.

Five different cultists are on deck as Lady Deathwhisper falls,
earning the 25-Man Progression team "Full House (25 Player)",
Icecrown Citadel
From there, we moved to Lady Deathwhisper, forcing the same artificially drawn-out kill that Si Team had, weeks earlier. We struggled to get the Lady in position, her green Death and Decay painting the floor as players leapt out of the way. Ghostly apparitions headed toward us like ticking time bombs as we called out for shields and freedoms. Melee proved the greatest threat to this achievement's execution: if targeted by a Vengeful Spirit, sprinting away from the tank was the immediate emergency maneuver. An AoE explosion produced by a Spirit reaching its target would most certainly kill the tank, taking out a chunk of other melee as collateral damage.

The Alliance Gunship is blanketed in explosions
as DoD earns "I'm on a Boat (25 Player)",
Icecrown Citadel

Omaric and Bretthew struggled to maintain control while handing the Lady off to one another. Her threat suppression mechanic increased Deathwhisper's likelihood of turning and swatting melee during this touchy transition. As we neared our completion of Full House, both Blain and Riskers had been dealt a fatal blow. Moments earlier, our warlock officer Eacavissi fell alongside Larada the hunter in a similar ghostly explosion. But the 25-Man team persevered. Lady Deathwhisper gasped her last breath surrounded by a myriad of cultists, and the golden bar flashed up on our screens indicating success.

Twenty-five swarm scarabs are destroyed in under thirty
seconds, earning DoD "The Traitor King (25 Player)",
Tournament of Champions
"I'm on a Boat (25 Player)" immediately followed, requiring little coordination beyond our standard setup. The cascade of explosions billowed out as the gunship lost control and plummeted downward to the glacier below. We then engaged Saurfang, burning every cooldown available, racing for a kill before he completed three casts of Mark of the Fallen Champion. We pulled it off with two hours to spare, granting us "I've Gone and Made a Mess (25 Player)". We immediately folded those remaining two hours in the Tournament, killing Anub'arak alongside twenty of his insectoid friends, a feat that granted us "The Traitor King".

---

As the final grains of sand trickled through the glass, our plate was in much better shape. We'd taken a huge bite out of the achievements in ToC; Algalon had also been devoured. We took a deep breath of relief and prepared for our entry into The Plagueworks. After the rush of challenging encounters behind us, I thought Team Si's first venture into the second wing would be a breeze.

I thought wrong.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

3.38. Damage for Dessert

Shadowmourne is displayed for the first time,
BlizzCon '09

Peeling Onions

"So, who do you think will get it first?"

I eyeballed the photo someone had taken from BlizzCon a week earlier. There, an orc stood hunched over, a large axe tightly gripped in both hands. Its curved blade gave off a deep bluish glow, affixed with various markings and runes. As a guild leader, I stood aside on several occasions while other more deserving players were bestowed with weapons of legendary strength. I was fine with this. My job was to run a successful guild, so if others sacrificed of themselves to help in that endeavor, I'd offer whatever small token of appreciation I could in return for that loyalty. And as I gazed upon Shadowmourne's eery glow, players began to race through my mind. Ater had crafted Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker; more recently, Neps came to be the bearer of Val'anyr, Hammer of Ancient Kings. We even managed to forge a Sulfuras, Hand of Ragnaros, but its fate was far less ceremonious in Descendants of Draenor. A weapon once coveted by all of Azeroth's warriors (and paladins, and shamans, and druids), ours fell into the hands of a random, no-name player who left the guild several weeks later. The poor luck of our streaky drops had gotten the best of all the officers who had attempted to suffer through years of running Molten Core, and they had all thrown up their hands in defeat. When the Eye of Sulfuras finally dropped, nobody of significance was present to receive the item. It went to a warrior who simply happened to the possess the necessary material components. And once he bore the legendary two-handed mace, he...like his materials...was gone.

I would not make the same mistake twice.

The issuing of legendary weapons to guild members was something I took great pains to work through. It couldn't just be the first person with the materials, or the player furthest along in the quest. It had to be carefully planned out, ensuring that it would land in the hands of a player that not only deserved it, but whom would continue to carry it throughout our raids, adding to our combined strength. A decision of this significance brought to light many concerns I would've previously swept under the rug. Red flags took on entirely new levels of importance and players' ulterior motives had to be scrutinized. I wanted to assume the best in people, but a realistic approach was just as important -- greed absolutely could be a contributing factor to lead people to behave in new, manipulative ways. Ways that would make me think that giving them Shadowmourne first was the right decision, for the good of the guild.

The trick was how well could I peel back the onion.

"I dunno, perhaps Klocker. I'll have to see the stats first."

Ah, Sir Klocker. A faithful and trusted officer. A loyal guild member and confidant as far back as the early days in Blackwing Lair. Quite possibly first in line to craft this legendary axe...had it not been for the turn of events that were about to be set into motion. A small stone would soon be cast into a lake by a guild member, and it would cause ripples to grow, to encompass the roster, leadership...even me. Ripples that would ultimately lead Sir Klocker to be the guild's third bearer of Shadowmourne, rather than the first.


Dreadscale and Acidmaw are killed within
seconds of each other, earning the guild
"Not One But Two Jormungars (25-Man)",
Trial of the Crusader

The Life of a Tank

I leaned over my desk awkwardly, shoving a mouthful of ice cream into my face, while the 25-Man team wailed on Gormak. I stood at the base of the enormous Magnataur, holding him in position while DPS tore him up. Numbers flowed down my screen like a fountain of death, of hit points that once were. I'd held the role of tank for these many months in Wrath and had enjoyed its benefits. Tanks were quick to gear up, as competition against loot was minimal. There was always a need a tank in a 5-Man, particularly a heroic one. And Death Knights truly enjoyed the benefit of the role in Wrath, implicitly overpowered in their design that any of the three specs -- be it Blood, Frost or Unholy -- could tank. It made life easy for me, whether I was playing the pivotal role of Sartharion tank during a three-drake kill, or simply standing in front of Gormak and weathering each strike as if a light breeze brushed past my cheek. I could even enjoy dessert and perform my raid-related duties at the same time. Indeed, life was easy.

Easy...and dull as rocks.

I remembered the days of Kerulak and of struggling with new mechanics. Of rewiring my buttons from the ground up as a result of Battleguard Sartura. Of the adrenaline flowing through me as Huhuran neared death and the fate of the raid rested with the Shamans and their Chain Heal spam. Chills...

Gormak fell over dead and Omaric raced into position to pick up Dreadscale, while I crossed the room and waited for Acidmaw. A giant worm burst out of the floor like some poorly written Dune fan-fiction, and I began to backpedal, staying out of his poison clouds.

"Keep the damage level on both. Going for the achievement."

I glanced up at the poison debuff ticking away on me. If left unchecked, I would eventually be slowed to the point of complete immobility. Perhaps this would get a little exciting after all!

"I have the debuff. Want me to run to fire?"

"No, stay there. It’s coming to you."

Meh, perhaps not.

I continued to keep the Jormungar's poison spit pointed away from the raid, and watched their health-bars drop in unison. Down and to my right, the damage meters were a multicolored ice cream dessert; once again, Crasian remained the cherry on top.

I missed being on the meters.

I thought back to playing Zanjina and how so much of it was a struggle to claw my way back up into the top 10. Shit gear, poor itemization, and a bad mix of racials all stacked the deck against me. Yet every day I would return to try to find some new trick or technique to scale that DPS mountain. I remembered the day Supremus crumbled into a heap of rubble in Black Temple and I stood in the #1 spot, if only for a single moment.

Pardon my French, but it was a pretty fucking cool feeling.

Tanking had its place, but I knew the full effect it had on the player, that lack of glory, the inability to come out of a raid with any quantifiable performance. The success of a tank wasn't gauged in multicolored flavors of damage; it was a cruel world of simply being alive or dead. It was the stale carrot cake you pulled from the back of the refrigerator, as a nice gesture to guests, long after all the ice cream was gone. It often left you hungry while others stuffed their faces. So I smiled politely and thanked the hosts for their generosity; I ate the cake and lied. Oh no, no this is fine. You go ahead with your sundae. This will be enough for me.

The pair of worms collapsed within seconds of one another, and the achievement "Not One But Two Jormungars (25 Player)" flashed up on our screen, as we transitioned to phase three. Icehowl burst through the doors. I shoved another spoonful in, and ran straight for the yeti.

Well...time to see who gets trampled tonight.


The 25-Man progression team defeats Anub'arak,
earning the guild "Call of the Crusade (25 Player)",
Tournament of Champions

We Meet Again

We carried on through Jaraxxas, the Champions, and the Twin Val'kyr, but there would be no diversion to Ulduar this eve. The floor was shattered by the Lich King, and we plummeted down into a hidden chamber, far below the tournament's arena. Hiding in wait, a familiar arachnid lurked. Anub'arak, unhappy with his defeat in Azjol-Nerub, had returned to take his vengeance out on us. Burrowing insects was in our immediate future.

Phase one demanded a tank keep control of Anub'arak himself, while a second tank picked up spiderling minions. As predicted, these minions had a tendency to dig into the floor of the cave, re-appearing in random spots which added to the chaos. In order to keep the burrowing under control, tanks had to position these spiderlings onto patches of ice called permafrost, and permafrost was created when ranged DPS destroyed the various floating spheres that encircled Anub'arak's pit. We kept on the boss until he himself burrowed, indicating the start of phase two.

In this second phase, Anub'arak locked onto a specific member of the raid, seeking this target out. Our raid had to keep tabs on positioning, as this target and his prey drew a line that players could not cross, for fear of being impaled -- an attack that had the potential to one-shot under the right conditions. Meanwhile, scarabs would randomly pop from the ground and swarm on to players, sending them into a panic and running wildly in random directions....often towards the aforementioned invisible line. Keeping calm was the only way to make it through this phase, without losing targets of Anub'arak's hunger. We bounced between these two phases several times, until Anub'arak was whittled down to the magic 30%.

Then, the fun began.

The final burn had a clever twist which would cause the unsuspecting raid to do themselves in, if not careful. Anub'arak surrounded the entire raid in a leeching swarm, draining 10% of the raid's current health each second. This meant a huge spike of damage to the entire raid at the onset, eventually plateauing at a level far less apt to inducing a heart attack among the healers. But! The healers had to resist their instincts to top off the raid; overhealing caused Anub'arak's leech to replenish his hit-points faster than we could remove them. If Anub'arak was left to put the heat on our DPS sundae, the burn would be dragged out; he'd win by attrition, as our DPS melted away. The healers remained disciplined, healing the very least they could, focusing more on the tanks and less on the raid itself. With only a few attempts to perfect these many mechanics, Anub'arak collapsed in a broken husk, and the golden banners flashed up on our screens: "Call of the Crusade (25 Player)".

It was the start of September 2009, and we were now ready to begin our heroic work in Trial of the Grand Crusader.

---

I sat down at my desk, sipped the morning coffee, and began to pull up my work for the day. Instantly, my IM client sprang to life, a pending message from Cheeseus:

"Ever look at other guilds and think, 'How can they succeed, while we fail so hard'?"

I watched as the stone skipped across the lake, ripples growing outward, preparing to devour all that they encompassed.