4.5. Slay It Forward

The DoD guild forums, displaying the karma leaderboard

Your Name In Lights

Along the top of the forums were a list of names, each paired with a conspicuous number. Every day the numbers changed and the names shifted positions. The first few weeks saw the greatest fluctuation as the guild gradually dipped their toe in the karma pool. As one traversed a forum topic, each entry displayed two new buttons: one labelled +, the other, -. Clicking them produced a message, "Here you can explain, or write a reason why you are increasing or decreasing this user's karma". Most important of all was the public record: clicking a user's name allowed you to access their karma changelog, an audit trail of goodness. All the info you needed to battle your way on to the leaderboard was to see what others were doing, then take the initiative yourself.

I scanned through the list of recent adjustments:

Goldenrod » Dalans: "Because this linked me to the Mega Man hoodie, which I will be buying." 

Jemb » Randyflagg: "Made a very lovely CSI image of me, props to him :D" 

Kedavra » Omaric: "Mad rapping skills"

Klocker » Bheer: "Dear lord cat is funny." 

It was good to see them taking to the tool, playing with it, experimenting in trading karma for cat pictures. But there was so much more potential buried there. The course of action I knew best was to lead by example, so I joined the karma pool party.

I issued my first karma reward on the 8th of July:

Hanzo » Kizmet: "for filling an empty spot in the raid."

In a not-completely-hardcore, not-quite-casual guild, roster backfill was a weekly necessity. A slow, deliberate re-education brought the guild to a point where Raiders just knew to be online at invite time. Standby was their best shot at getting into a raid they couldn't commit to. And while my Elites' competitive drive was the fundamental force in our raids, it was the Raiders that were the unsung heroes of progression. They were the battle tested, loyal members of our guild who waited patiently at the sidelines to fill, not always gaining a spot, nor proclaiming to be entitled to one. Thanks to karma, I was now able to issue a public thank you to those who helped make it possible...and the public record helped remind others of its importance.

The guild wasn't often privy to the level of effort necessary to maintain itself. People gave up their time slaying internet dragons (or the Alliance, depending on your preference) to sit down and work out the kinks with me...and these weren't always officers. Cheeseus and Bheer both spent a hefty amount of time testing the forum karma implementation, coming back with display issues that needed fixing, numbers that needed tweaking, and suggestions that polished off the rough edges. For this work, I issued out karma as well:

Hanzo » Cheeseus: "For contributing QA to me on the Karma implementation."

...and received karma in return:

Bheer » Hanzo: "Yup, the post box and + - buttons all look perfect now. Well done sir!

And... How am I the first person to have given you karma? :p"

It was only a matter of time before those investigating the leaderboard began to get ideas of their own on how to make contributions of value.

The administrative view of forum karma

How Do I Love Thee?

The first signs warmed the cockles of my heart. I found guild members thanking those who gave of their extra time to provide more raiding options to the guild:

t@t » Mangetsu: "for doing the alt run."

There were examples of selflessness between players with regards to loot:

Helmeron » Deathonwing: "For the great action of passing loot on when he could've had it!"

Officers thanked non-officers for officer-like behavior:

Jungard » Joredin: "Doing a good job keeping our 10-man raid information organized here on the forums."

Fellow raiders thanked one another for insight into the wonderful world of theorycrafting...

Bheer » Jemb: "Useful posts are useful."

...as well as acknowledgement of expertise at the wheel:

Drecca » Blain: "For being Blain, a rogue that actually knows how to use tricks of the trade"

This exchange of make-believe points for qualified effort soon reached beyond the confines of the guild. DoD took karma a step further, and used it to thank people for helping with concerns not bound to the guild or even World of Warcraft:

Goldenrod » Omaric: "Help with my computer"

Random acts of support and encouragement:

Riskers » Lexxii: "Good luck with the grant!"

People that had otherwise never met each other before in real life offered their beds up for BlizzCon:

Moo » Goldenrod: "Um, that is such a nice gesture. I have accommodations but i just think it's really nice of you and your girlfriend to be so generous. I look forward to meeting you both!"

The members of DoD laid their feelings bare like never before:

Borken » Larada: "Because I love you."

Jokes aside, it was encouraging to see the guild treating each other with that kindness and respect I had hammered home for so many years. I resisted considering forum karma anything more that a fun toy, but watching those initial exchanges gave me hope that the guild really did consider itself an extended family. It was the bond of family that was going to have to carry us through an approaching storm.

Any opportunity that arose to supply positive feedback, I jumped on it. If players advocated for DoD, I rewarded them for selling the guild. If officers moderated the forums, I thanked them for their work. If I messed up the raid rotations for the week, and players corrected me, their honesty would not be taken for granted. And if they invoked concerns of their class or upcoming changes in Cataclysm with care and insight, rather than blatant whines and complaining, I was certain to reward that good behavior.

Anyone was capable of good behavior, with just a touch of effort:

Hanzo » Ben: "For being passionate and vocal about the Shadow Priest situation. Now, go tell Blizzard."

---

Forum Karma was a great addition to the DoD boards. It was fun, inspired the guild to spend more time participating in discussions, and acted as self-perpetuating conduit of positive guild culture. But forum karma had one other unintended benefit buried in its use: it gave me a window into the guild's state of mind.

Lexxii and Immortalus prepare to run
 down Dirty, while Rainaterror looks on,
Dalaran

Cake and Eating It

When Bonechatters approached me with the option of bringing in Rainaterror's shaman for a solitary achievement, I hesitated. What was intended as a gesture of kindness could easily be perceived as selfishness by others. A loose set of attendance restrictions was already a courtesy DoD extended to Raiders that couldn't...or wouldn't...re-arrange their real-life schedules around our raid times. Fair enough, that was their choice. But to duck out of raids, yet still want help to wrap up an achievement felt very much like the proverbial cake, complete with a layer of entitlement-flavored icing. DoD's mission was to go above and beyond for one another, so this decision teetered dangerously between helping out a guildy and supporting lazy selfishness. I deliberated briefly, then told Bonechatters that I was fine with allowing it, but that there were no guarantees we could fit her in. Secretly, I suspected this wouldn't go over well.

I wasn't too far off.

Neps, an officer known for sardonic yet lighthearted wit, pulled no punches in his criticism of Bonechatters' request,

"Aight, I'll be the assholedickpieceofshit again. I love you, Bone, but there's no way in Hell you're bringing her toon. I hate being mean and shit, but we can't be carrying peeps to get drakes. I know a bunch of raiders will agree with this too. If people miss runs or are just bad and don't get to come again, then we shouldn't be going out of our way to get them some drakes that the rest of us put in a shit load of time to get. I just don't like giving peeps free stuff that we we're working so hard to get. Sorry."

Drecca was next to respond, "I don't really want to raid normal modes for people who were/are too busy to raid with us most of the time, or got rotated out for whatever reason. It's completely unfair to the people who've spent months, nonstop, in ICC and still continue to do so."

Pulling back the curtain mirrored these sentiments. A flow of karma issued to Neps reflected that same mentality:

Bheer » Neps: "Karma for this. Holy shit, you're always the nice guy Neps!"

Ben » Neps: "I think you know why."

Jungard » Neps: "Good point. We aren't exactly worried about the status of players like Raina and aether on drakes lol."

Randyflagg » Neps: "FATALITY!"

Klocker » Neps: "For bringing sexy back."

All doubt on which side of the fence this issue fell was obliterated in that moment. The reason why didn't come to me until I chatted with Jungard on the subject later.

"Yeah, I wasn't too keen on the idea, but I also felt the guild had a bit of an obligation to at least extend Boney the option. Seeing your response in Neps' karma history lumped in with everyone else helped set the record straight."

"Oh, that's public?"

"...uh, yeah. Didn't I show you this part? See, you can list Neps' entire history from his profile."

"Hm, I don't think so. This is a pretty cool feature. So...you can see all the karma changes and reasons and such?"

It appeared that some people still thought their karma exchanges were private.

In "public", out on the forums, guildies would be more inclined to edit themselves, or often just go with the flow. If they had a mechanism to keep their opinions private, however, they might be more inclined to speak the truth, without fear of repercussion. And if by chance, it wasn't entirely well known that every guildy's history was accessible, then taking the guild's temperature via karma carried a lot more weight.

I kept further announcements about the karma mod on the down-low, watching and waiting to see what they would do next, while I brainstormed other ways to take the guild's pulse. Knowing where their heads were at was vitally important to a decision I was giving serious consideration to: excising the 10-Man teams from the guild completely.

3.70. The Perfect Loot System

Drecca is the lone survivor of a heroic Rotface kill,
Icecrown Citadel

What Makes the Raid Go 'Round

Heroic work began in earnest immediately following the Lich King's defeat at the start of April. Drecca continued to make a name for himself by being the sole survivor of a desperately close attempt on heroic Rotface, and the screams that filled Vent poured the concrete around his ankles -- he was one of us now, and there was no turning back. By this point, Drecca was not only charging head-first into heroic bosses for the 25-Man progression team, but was assisting Mangetsu with the Alt-25 with increasing frequency. As our roster grew, fewer spots were available in progression, so the Alt-25 continued to garner interest from both guildy and stranger alike. The good news was that both Mangetsu and Drecca felt strongly about keeping standards high in the Alt-25, and this trickled down in the form of a strict set of rules to be followed as described on the forums. It was nice to see guildies finally taking pride in their play, and the result was a surprisingly successful 2nd 25-Man team.

When Mangetsu picked up the Alt-25, GDKP was the loot system first discussed, the reasoning being that non-guildies could be persuaded to help out. The concept of pouring gold into a pot to reserve a spot in the lineup worked surprisingly well, and if players hoped to see any of that money back, they were forced to stay throughout the duration of the raid. We knew nothing about non-guildies, hadn't vetted them, and couldn't vouch for the presence of any integrity or reliability -- the promise of a "damage deposit" was a convenient method of due diligence. But the success of the Alt-25 grew to such a level that it was eventually staffed by all DoDers, and GDKP gave way to a simpler solution: Need Before Greed rolls, with one Need per night. As soon as you "Needed" on an item (and won), that was it -- you were relegated to Greeds for the duration of the run. I wasn't particularly fond of NBG, due to the randomness of the roll and the fact that it had no memory; players who had raided since forever could lose to the newbie of the week. But, it wasn't the loot system that the 25-Man used, and I was fine with Mang using it in Alt-25; if anything, the DKP system of the 25-Man progression team acted as a carrot for those driven to get out of Alt-25 and to one day be a part of the guild's historic first boss kills.

As sound as our progression team's loot system was, there were still problems creeping up. The first-round bidding system I developed as as a perk for the Elite rank had backfired a number of times already. The last time it bit me in the ass was when an "alt" or "off-spec" bid ended up winning an item, denying it from a player who was bidding for their own main spec. At the start of 3.3, I amended the system to allow players to categorize their bids by adding "off" (eg. 20 DKP off), and any off-spec bids would be cast aside if even one main spec bid was on the table. But that wasn't the end of the problems for our loot system -- very quickly into ICC heroics, more loopholes were becoming evident.

"Crimson Acolyte"
Artwork by Nancy Cho

Loot Fears Float

Players like Deathonwings the shaman had no main spec. Each week, players like Wings flipped back and forth from Elemental to Restoration, an incredibly helpful type of player for a roster in a guild like ours, as they could fill a variety of needs at any given moment. We called these players "floaters", floating from spec to spec as the guild needed them to. As expected, some floaters were good enough to qualify -- and eventually arrive at -- the distinguished rank of Elite. Once Elite, Wings fully expected to start 1st-rounding bids on some of the most top notch items falling off heroic ICC bosses. But...for what spec? Was it fair for Wings to 1st-round items that were Elemental and Restoration? Of course not! But the alternative was to forfeit his ability to 1st-round...which was one of the primary reasons guildies pushed for the Elite rank in the first place. Floating as a reflection of roster need should not have come with a penalty...but it did.

Another type of floater caused me great concern as well, but these players had more selfish intent behind their decision to change specs. These were the players who had simply grown listless, requesting a change to help alleviate the doldrum now apparently baked into their everyday raid life. I'd suffered this first hand, so tried to keep perspective when players came to me about expressing their need to switch to a role that was more exciting. And I had no problem with purposeful role switches...until it came time for them to leverage their 1st round bidding rights as an Elite. I became painfully aware of this loophole when it affected me directly: the night Omaric attempted to bid 1st round on a freshly dropped heroic Deathbringer's Will -- a trinket long sought by pure DPS classes that had been waiting patiently. I wasn't particularly happy with Omaric's decision to seek the trinket before other non-floaters had their shot...but there was nothing in the rule book that said he couldn't. My recently promoted 2nd-in-command, Sir Klocker, confirmed the issue in a forum topic expressing current concerns...and it had been going on longer than I cared to admit.

There was no such thing as the perfect loot system, but I often daydreamed about what that might look like. I theorized that it would be a DKP system that weighted your earnings based on the role that you played. In this alternate reality, a player would keep four pools, separated by role: melee, ranged, healing, and tank. As raiders toppled bosses, logs were generated and uploaded to sites like World of Logs, and a breakdown of their contributions would appear there. In my mind's eye, I foresaw a report that read like so:

Tank / Melee / Ranged / Heals
-----
Bretthew: 98/2/0/0
Mangetsu: 0/0/100/0
Wfredlund: 0/12/0/88
Mature: 48/52/0/0
Gunsmokeco: 0/0/0/100
Deathonwings: 0/0/76/24

If such a magical tool existed, breaking down an individual player's contributions, bids on specific types of loot would be far easier to manage. If Wings saw an exceptional elemental staff, he'd know that he'd have 76 DKP to bid on it...1st round, if he so chose. Likewise, those who took to a new role out of boredom would be free from facing the wrath of the fellow guildmates as being deceptively evil with their 1st-round bids. A player freshly floating from tank to melee, for example, would have no melee DKP accrued at that point, and would have to work towards it from scratch. If such a loot system could be, no player in my guild -- regardless of rank or contribution -- could argue it was unfair: players bid exactly what they earned, and their earnings were exact reflections of level of contribution.

It was a wonderful make-believe system. The problem with it was primarily the 'make-believe' part. Could I build it, I wondered, perhaps as a plugin to eqDKP, or maybe even reach out to the owners / administrators of World of Logs. Maybe there was a set of rules we could come up with to determine how to break that analysis down, displaying it in subsequent reports. But it ate away at me. This is too complicated, too much to administrate. There's no guarantee the people at World of Logs will ever get on board with this craziness. Keep it simple and compartmentalized within DoD. So, back to the drawing board I went.

Contributions vs. Consistency

A sample of Hanzo's notes during one
of several attempts to theory out a
better loot system for DoD

"I've been pouring a lot of energy into a theoretical new system I've come up with. And I need it picked apart. Can I forward you my scribblings?"

"Sounds good."

I flipped over to Google Documents, and shared various drafts of my high level concepts over to Cheeseus. The loot system centered around an emergent behavior of players wishing to fill multiple roles, "floaters", and how they would be handled fairly when going up against players uninterested or unwilling to do so. My initial idea was to split DKP into four pools, then using a custom tool to analyze raid reports would subdivide the player's earnings appropriately, weighted by the percentage of contribution per role. A player that tanked 100% of the raid, therefore, would receive 100% of their DKP in the tank pool, and would only ever be able to use that pool to bid on tanking items. But there were problems with the concept from a practical standpoint.

Administratively, four pools were too much to track and too confusing for the player. Furthermore, no such "custom tool" existed to perform the calculation telling me that Drecca and Bretthew had both earned 100% of their pool as a tank, while Deathonwings had earned a 50/50 split of ranged DKP and healing DKP. Most importantly, what would stop greedy players from simply switching to whatever role they felt like playing, just to scoop up loot? After having earned a healthy amount of DKP in two pools, selfish players were free to "go to town" on whatever dropped, not caring for a moment what was being denied to the rest of the roster. It was a self-serving mentality that harmed the non-floaters in the long term.

My second pass felt much closer to the mark. I had to shift my mentality from rewarding your contributions to rewarding your consistency. If people were going to switch at the drop of a hat, I was fine with it, but the switch needed to come at a cost, which meant losing the right to 1st round bid (if they were Elite). Over time, they could earn the right again, a concept I sketched into my notes as a yellow bar growing into a green one. Hence, consistent players in a particular role were green, while floaters remained a neutral yellow. Both had upsides. Green players earned the right to 1st-round bid, and yellow players would never have to bid off-spec on anything -- to a floater, all loot would be main spec.

Cheeseus got straight to the point.

"Overall, I really don't like the way this reads. So you're saying that if Dalans decides to come back and fill his old role of tanking, that Mature...who was tanking in his absence...now has to pay the penalty of switching back to DPS? Sorry Dalans, You're an asset to the organization, but you're not worth the 458 DKP I’m going to lose as a result of your return."

His comments continued to flow in.

"The 1st round bit seems very counterintuitive. Why would an Elite, who has proven himself as quite capable of doing whatever is needed, want to remain neutral in bidding? They're just like everyone else now, except with more responsibilities."

I took that as the "no off-spec bids" perk wasn't enough of a game changer.

"A non-elite can main bid on any role they're neutral to, any role they're switching amongst."

"So why would they want to go green? Alternately, why would you, Hanzo, want to let an up-and-coming DPS Death Knight...bid on tanking gear? And your most capable people, who would only benefit from being green, couldn't be used for any other role.”

Cheeseus continued to poke holes into my theoretical loot system until it looked like a used kitchen sponge.

"I know people wouldn't want to be neutral. The point is...they are now. This is how Deathonwings, Omaric, etc...are treated today. I don't want to have to go to them and say 'I need you to pick a role and stick with it, because it's not fair to the others.' I want a system in place where I can say, 'Do what you want, and what you do defines what you get.' In my eyes, that is the path of least resistance and gives them the greatest freedom."

Cheeseus remained unconvinced, "Right, but why should a potential Elite...who is giving up his rank...be punished further? They already can't raid consistently, am I right? They should be motivated to raid and excel, not threatened with a loss of perks if they are unable to keep it up."

"Because Elites that have done that to me already don't care!! 'Hey I got everything I needed, I'm off to go skiing! Oh, hey, remember me? I'm back now, I just broke my legs in a skiing accident...remember I used to be an Elite?? I can still 1st-round shit, right' No! There needs to be some repercussions to coming and going as you please!"

Cheeseus loosened his stance, "OK, I'll rethink that a bit more. But overall I still think that something is missing, this needs a bunch of work. Personally, I still think you should go loot council, but that's just because I'm pro-communism ideology. It fits the raid mentality well, everyone contributes, everybody gets a slice of the pie."

I glared back at the instant messenger window with narrowed eyes.

"I'll never go loot council in DoD. Ever. Too easy to manipulate by those in power. Too easily corruptible."

"Oh, I know. It would never work, just as communism would never work in the real world, but if you look at it on paper, isn't it an excellent idea?"

It would be...if we were all the bestest of buddies in real life. If we had to face one another the next day at work, have to deal with the fallout of making a horrible decision the night before. To be made to feel guilty about being selfish and dishonest, and to have that paraded around the office until we learned our lesson. Be excluded from social gatherings, to not have our phones calls answered or our emails replied to when we decided to take whatever the hell we wanted off of bosses. Yeah...then loot council would be fantastic.

How wonderfully simple World of Warcraft guild leadership would be if people could be held accountable for their actions.

3.13. Cream

"WoW - Malygos"
Artwork by Wynahiros

Wringing Out the Sponge

We had no idea when 3.1 would hit. Blizzard was very good at keeping release dates hush-hush, for fear of the community flying into a rage when a date was missed. All we knew was that time was running out, and when it had, Heroic: Glory of the Raider would no longer be attainable; the coveted Black Proto-Drake would be removed as a reward, forever left as a symbol of its rarity and the skill of the player whom rode on its back. By this point, no Horde guild on Deathwing-US had completed Heroic: Glory of the Raider. Depraved and Enigma were tied with three remaining: You Don’t Have an Eternity, Gonna Go When the Volcano Blows, and The Immortal. When all was said and done, seventeen meta-achievements needed completion.

Wrapping up The Twilight Zone brought our running total to ten. The work we had done prior to 3-Drake was inconsequential compared to what lay ahead, however. First on that list was killing Patchwerk in under 3 minutes, which we managed to complete the very same day we executed Shocking!, ensuring that no two players crossed a positive and negative charge on Thaddius. The next raid weekend was You Don't Have an Eternity, which forced us to kill Malygos in under 6 minutes -- we barely pulled this off by the skin of our teeth. We employed every trick we could think of to wring the DPS sponge dry. The secret? Forcibly stacking Malygos’ powers sparks for a multiplicative damage buff. My role in this was wielding the Death Knight's ability to pull an enemy (be it monster or power spark) to my location. Once "death gripped" to our feet, melee would blow the spark up, stand in the magical residue left behind, and gain arcane infused attacks. We stacked the buff onto all of our DPS, depleting the azure dragon's health at an increased rate, and were able to make the six-minute mark.

During the day, I'd discuss the state of the raiding situation with Cheeseus, having been newly promoted to the rank of Avatar. Since joining DoD, his affinity toward raiding with precision was common knowledge. What wasn't as well known was that he'd approached me with an offer: assume Raid Leadership and be the single voice that guides the 25-Man progression team to greater prestige. He was only a few months into his guild membership; officership seemed premature. Via Avatar, however, he could give us commentary on raid management, proving his worth to the others. Our weekdays were a combination of chats surrounding achievement order and priority, upcoming Elite promotions, and the state of raid progression on Deathwing-US, as other guilds closed in on Heroic: Glory of the Raider. The task before me was this: Wring every ounce of efficiency out of the team like a sponge being crushed in a vice. I'd do this by making our goals crystal clear, foster raiding discourse on our forums (as we'd done with The Twilight Zone), and pour the concrete into our raiding foundation by acknowledging the shining stars of DoD: Awarding the first Elite ranks.

It was report card time.

The Straight A Student

The Elite rank was a brand new concept I implemented at the start of Wrath of the Lich King. I took the name from a guild I'd long admired for their professional-quality approach to raiding and a commitment to sharing thoughtful, intelligent discussion surrounding raid mechanics. A hardcore raiding guild had the luxury of demanding everyone be committed to a fixed (and often overzealous) schedule, expecting everyone be present for multiple nights throughout the week. Descendants of Draenor did not have that luxury. We needed to make allowances for all types of schedules and levels of commitment. I accomplished this by creating the Raider rank, which clearly defined a baseline set of expectations that a guildy needed to meet in order to be considered for a rotation. This would ensure players wouldn't walk into The Eye of Eternity wearing unenchanted green gear with empty sockets. The downside to the Raider rank was that by not asking a player to commit to a schedule, I couldn't grant them a guaranteed spot in each raid. Minimal commitment equals minimal reward, after all. For many players, the Raider ranked worked well for them. They could come and go as they pleased, and understood that not all raids they signed up for would be given to them -- they were fine with the trade-offs.

But for those who wanted more, Elite beckoned them.

In contrast to Raider, Elite had high expectations. I wanted you to make me believe that raid progression was your priority. With the Raider rank already acquired, you needed to prove you could meet Elite-quality scheduling commitments, signing-up (and showing up) for each of the two raid nights a week -- for a solid month -- without fail. Raiders were free to cancel their raid sign-ups, as RL (“real-life”) dictated their schedules, but if you wanted Elite, I didn't want to see any cancellations. I also didn't want any Elite players that held real-life commitments that involved a unpredictable, fluctuating schedule. If you were deployed to Iraq to serve our country, I’d be proud to call you a fellow guild member...but your deployment would cripple our progression team. Everyone's priorities had to be weighed fairly, and for Elite, I needed the highest level of commitment to the raid that a player could provide. The mistakes of cattledriving throughout TBC would not be repeated.

Once the prerequisites to Elite had been hit, the next step was to assess your proficiency in a number of categories:

• Activity on Forums
• Contributions to the Guild Vault
• Guild Spirit
• Attitude
• Gear Pride
• PvE Performance

From A to F, I'd go down the list and make an assessment of your contributions to Descendants of Draenor. Were you providing thoughtful, meaningful discussion to our boards? Did you give us much as you took from our guild vault? Were you proud of the guild you called home, and acted with our ideals on a regular basis? Were you a positive, driving force behind the raid team, preaching our goals which prioritized progression over loot? And when loot did come your way, did you take pride in keeping it enchanted and gemmed, tweaked to its maximum potential? And, above all, did you walk-the-walk, and demonstrate excellence in our raids? A raider might strive to top damage or healing meters, but an Elite would know there's much more to consider for: awareness, survivability, team preservation (decursing, contributing to adds, etc.). Did you make these your focus, rather than brag about being #1 in Recount?

Score poorly, and you'd be sent back to refine your efforts. Bring home straight As, however, and you'd guarantee yourself a set of proud parents who would shower you with gifts.

Wemetanye shows off his Azure Drake,
outside of The Eye of Eternity,
Coldarra

Elitist Perks 

In my opinion, the kickbacks to earning Elite were well worth the effort. The re-structured guild vault, now categorized by herbs for raiding flasks, material components for enchants, glyphs, stat-specific food buffs, and uncut gems, would now boast increased withdrawal access for your convenience. Furthermore, we'd extend a bit of trust your way, allowing you into the vault tabs where you yourself could take raw components and craft them into the aforementioned raiding materials.

Act like an adult, and I would treat you like one. 

The Guild Vault would also now pay for your repairs; a slick way of taking the edge off your raiding budget. We'd take this a step further, and subsidize your talent respecs as well, easing these monetary demands on your dedication to wiping repeatedly as we learned new bosses. On our forums, you'd become a moderator, gaining the fringe benefits associated with curating our guild commentary. But above all this fluff, these nice-to-haves that certainly would raise the eyebrow of an enticed player, the most important perk came in the form of a raid rotation priority. The players who were focused on raid progression above all else did so because of a core need they wished to satisfy: to be present at all raids.

Earn Elite, and I'd chisel your weekly raid rotation into stone.

All of these perks gave our players the ability to contribute how they wanted, Raiders contributing a little, Elites contributing a lot. By doing so, I defined a clear hierarchy in the guild ranks which differentiated between varying degrees of contribution. I think this is often misunderstood by critics who feel everyone should be treated equally. Let me be perfectly clear: I treated everyone in Descendants of Draenor equally -- I equally rewarded each player's contribution to the guild which matched their level of involvement. If I had rewarded both Raiders and Elites -- essentially, different levels of effort -- with the same perks, the opposite would be true -- I would not be treating everyone equally. Rewarding different levels of effort the same leads to animosity and dissent, jackhammers drilling away at my raiding foundation.

In running the numbers on our first qualifying Elites, a few were not surprising, one definitely raised an eyebrow.

And one completely caught me off-guard.