3.19. Honorary Freeloading

Klocker stands naked beside other
members of the 40-Man core raid team,
Orgrimmar

The Social Network

I was in a pickle with a particular player, a Paladin named Klocker. Originally joining Descendants of Draenor as a Shaman, he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me, making a name for himself as our raiding team gestated. He healed Ater through blankets of Shadow Flame, kept the nature soak team alive during Princess Huhuran's Poison Volley, and diligently maintained his position in the Nature's Swiftness rotation on Maexxna. He'd been present for nearly every first boss kill my guild had scratched off the to-do list. Come Burning Crusade, Klocker flipped to a Paladin, but continued to heal with steadfast determination. Eventually, I named him Paladin officer to keep them in check. He coordinated their buffs with PallyPower, directing their play, keeping me informed of who needed to be a regular rotation and who ought to be benched. And he breathed life into the guild. He carried with him a dirty sense of humor, quick to make a sexual joke to lighten the mood and raise people's spirits; nobody was safe from his innuendo, not even himself. Klocker was one of the key reasons why Descendants of Draenor birthed a raiding team that was able to compete against hardcore guilds.

So when the forum post said he was furious and ready to walk, I had to act.

The goal was to have role officers in place for the first week of 3.1, brought up to speed and ready for Ulduar that Friday. That meant an official announcement, some rank renaming, a quick pow-wow in Vent followed by a few promotions and demotions...and the deal would be done. But by killing class officers in favor of role officers, Klocker was an odd man out. The three Paladin specializations were Tank, Melee DPS, and Healing. Tanks were now being handled by Dalans, Healers were under Kelden's command, and melee was now the responsibility of Cheeseus -- our new Raid Leader. This left Klocker without an assignment. What to do? Artificially promote him to fill some vacant role? My officers came with very clear responsibilities; it was the work they had committed to which granted them the perks of officership. Klocker had no responsibilities now; without one, a demotion would not only mean a step down from officership, but a loss of those perks. That circle of friends he'd come to make a part of his daily routine would be stripped away -- no more officer chat, or discussions about how to handle guildies via the forums. From my perspective, it was never meant to be personal -- it was simply business. Blain had received no special treatment when he stepped down from Raid Leadership at the end of TBC, so why should any other officer?

Klocker was furious. Not just about the demotion, more importantly: why didn't I come to him about it first? A fair argument; I had pulled back the reigns of my own in-game investment time to gain some balance with real life. "Micromanagey" tasks were chopped to the cutting room floor because of this, and hands-on time with players suffered as a result. I hadn't taken him aside and given him the appropriate heads-up. But while Blain's response was more like that of an employee at a business, it was clear that Klocker was affected emotionally by the decision -- I was erecting a wall between him and his social circles. I knew officer promotions / demotions like these would be difficult, cleaning house is rarely easy. But I don't think I really grasped how much of a psychological impact I would have by deciding someone's social circles for them -- which is essentially what I was deciding by allowing / disallowing players into /officer chat. Especially someone who had been a part of /officer chat for so long.

The reason why people play World of Warcraft is because they thrive on the social interaction it provides -- is it the core reason that makes an MMO fun. My mistake was in not giving the social implications of officer demotions enough weight. Not everyone would grant me the same luxury of a response as Blain had.

Mature earns "Champion of the Undercity" while
Klocker and Dalans chat in guild,
Icecrown

To Honor One's Elders

With the threat of Klocker walking, something had to be done. I couldn't in good conscience strip him of his access to the social network he'd grown to be a part over the previous four years. But the conundrum remained: there was no officer role for him to fill -- all heads were accounted for. I needed a way to legitimately return him to his post so that I kept the consistency of my structure intact. Any shred of doubt that might give a guildy cause to suspect double-standards at play had to be removed -- it needed to appear as though Klocker was receiving no special treatment. My solution was the creation of a new rank titled "Old God". Inspired by the lore of the Old Gods imprisoned far beneath the surface of Azeroth, this new rank allowed ex-officers the ability to voice their concerns from an administrative standpoint, and in turn, gain a reduced set of perks for their contributions. Old Gods would be allowed to speak in /officer chat and help with guild mediation via the forums. They were "honorary" officers, ostensibly, but came with no raiding expectations...nor guarantees. 

I took Klocker aside and proposed the change. I reminded him that he was an extremely valuable member of Descendants of Draenor, and that it sucked that my role officer implementation squeezed him out. I apologized to him for that. I told him that, in retrospect, I realized that I still needed his input. Through this new Old God rank, he could retain his post as an officer. I never directly spoke of cutting him in or out of his circle of friends -- even to Klocker, this had to appear as a legitimate assignment. Klocker seemed happy with this setup. Although his raiding position was no longer guaranteed, he was smart enough to know his position in the roster was safe. Thanks to updates in Wrath, Retribution Paladins were now viable and produced insanely good damage. In keeping with the new guild rules of "play what you love", Klocker chose to change things up and deliver melee DPS, becoming the sole Retadin of the core team. Meanwhile, he would continue to hold a role of official responsibility, contributing to guild management and remaining an active voice in /officer chat. 

He got what he wanted, and I got what I wanted.

So. How to articulate this rank to the masses. A new "honorary" officer rank. Intent: to pay respect and show thanks to those ex-officers who were valuable contributors to the guild, but whom no longer have a post in the Role Officer structure. An avenue to allow a player to contribute to the overseeing of the guild, its purpose, its mission and ideals. But without the perks...or the responsibilities.

Can you guess what happened next?

Come The Freeloaders 

Once I announced the rank of Old God and its first recipient to the guild, I found myself bombarded with sudden, new found interest in officership. Or at least, ex-officership. The prospect of being inducted into that prestigious circle of folks sans the responsibility dangled like a Carrot on a Stick. First on that list was Larada, a faithful Hunter in progression since TBC, and whom I had fill the role of Hunter Officer after Skarg vacated following the demise of Illidan. Larada took up the mantle, but contributed little (if any) to management of the guild, and the assignment only lasted a few months. We were barely into Obsidian Sanctum when Larada had already grown tired of incessant questions from up-and-coming Hunters annoying him and disrupting his game time.

Some players simply do not have the time or patience in dealing with administration -- they play WoW to play, not to be bothered with paperwork. I can respect that. Leadership isn't for everyone. But when the Old God role popped up as a means to grandfather players back in that once held a role of authority, Larada was quick to jump at the chance to have that title back. Hell, who wouldn't want authority without responsibility? 

Larada was not the only ex-officer that wanted in. There was about a two-week period during The Burning Crusade after Goldenrod retired from the game that I experimented with promoting a younger player, Dandrak, to officership -- the very same Dandrak who was responsible for our first Vaelastrasz kill years earlier. The experiment failed miserably; Dandrak was far too young to deal with officership. He was better at producing drama rather than mediating it. His short reign was fraught with immaturity and skewed by ego...never mind the fact that it is nothing short of impossible trying to manage a group of players in WoW when your parents have grounded you from the game. Dandrak still felt he was owed a promotion to Old God, though, and made sure to hammer me to grant it to him. 

I was even bombarded by requests from players that hadn't even held officership! Players that had unofficially run their own 10-man teams automatically thought they met the requirements for ex-officer, players who had been away from the game for months (maybe years), freshly re-invited to consume 3.1 content. They couldn't wait to hop into officer chat and be a part of the inner circle. 

Old God was like a birthday present to much of the guild, yet none of them knew it was created to solve a specific problem. If you were an officer that I didn't have a role for, it allowed you to continue to contribute to leadership. But, it read very much like I was inscribing a double-standard directly into the rules. The spin, therefore, came in its description: honorary officership to ex-officers. I designed it to show respect to those who had given me their blood and tears, like Klocker. The same could be said for any of those folks who had toiled over Descendants of Draenor, names like Haribo, Klocker, Kaleu, Breginna.

Ater. Blain.

So, it shouldn't have surprised me that players who weren't cut out for officership but still wished to enjoy its benefits wanted a piece of the pie. Thanks to the simplicity of how I described it, any ex-officer could tie on the feedbag and dive in to dessert. So, I sent over a pleasant "sure!" when Larada asked for the Old God promotion...

...and then I re-worked the description of the rank before any more damage could be done.

"Must have been a contributing member to leadership over the guild's lifespan."

"Must not have exited / been expunged from the guild on bad terms at any point in the guild's past."

--

While all the fuss surrounding Old God was going on, who qualified, who should get it, how fast I could promote them so they could "hang with the cool kids in officer chat" but not be expected to actually do anything, one player remained quiet. 

He never complained. 

He never expressed concern. 

He never whispered me or took me aside and wondered what was with all the promotions / demotions and why he wasn't being considered. 

He said nothing and carried on with his daily business, fully aware that the restructure meant his officership had expired. And in his silent humility, I saw a person I deeply respected, not only for his knowledge of the game and skill as a healer, but in how he was fiercely loyal to the guild, regardless of my decisions.

I took Dalans aside one evening and asked him,

"So...what's your opinion on Neps?"

3.18. Know Your Role

Blain shows off his Vengeful Nether Drake,
Shattrath City

The End To Bending

"Why can’t I see the officer forums any more?"

"Because you're not an officer anymore. That should have been easy to figure out."

I waited to see if I'd get some push back; no response. I clarified further.

"It's all or nothing now. If you're an officer, you need to meet the commitments I've listed out."

"I already told you I can't commit to every Friday and Sunday."

"Ok, well...??" I didn't need to finish my sentence. He got it.

"Yeah, but I can still help out."

I took a deep breath.

"Look, part of what I'm doing here with the restructure is trying to nip that double standard in the bud. When Wrath launches in a couple weeks, the new ranks will require officers to be present both nights of the week in raids. You were the one that told me you weren't comfortable committing to that kind of a schedule in Wrath. That's cool. You can retire a free man. But now I need other officers to fill those shoes, and they are committing to that schedule. So, they are the ones that benefit from those perks."

Blain chuckled at what most certainly appeared to him as a sudden overnight change in formality.

"I'm not asking for invite or kick privileges. I just think that I can still give you some advice here and there."

I wanted to bend the rules. But bending is what got me in trouble in the past.

"Hey, I'm all for it, but right now, I don't have a pseudo-officer rank available. And if I go bending the rules for someone, you know how that will come back and bite me in the ass. Someone will bitch about how 'Blain gets special treatment', or they'll whine about how they have to follow the rules but you don't. I've been fighting off double standards for four years, now. I gotta do it right this time."

He took a deep breath in Vent and gave me one of those delayed "alright" responses, the kind that dripped with "you're making a big mistake" undertones. I didn't want to cut Blain out of the officer channels and forums. He had a lot of value to deliver, especially in the raid leadership advice department. But when he told me he was stepping down from the responsibilities of raid leadership at the launch of Wrath, I had to walk-the-walk...which meant full demotion. Officers would be treated no differently than Raiders. As much as it pained me to.

If an opportunity arose where I could slip Blain under-the-radar into leadership legitimately, we'd revisit.

From Class to Role

My initial attempt at rebooting the guild with a new outlook on the game seemed reasonably successful. There were no mass exodus to speak of, no attempt to overthrow me and take over the guild vault. Players seemed content and excited for the next tier of content. There was no sign of the dreaded "grass-is-greener" syndrome which plagued our best players in the past; players who felt their effort and skills went unacknowledged. On the contrary, the best and brightest of my crew were being identified, gaining promotions, seeing more raids -- they were earning prestige and they were proud of what they had accomplished. They were proud to carry themselves as one of the Elite of Descendants of Draenor, and strove to fulfill its duties. I was satisfied that it kept them returning. This was, after all, the long-term goal: Build a solid foundation of reliable, skilled players who were fiercely loyal to raiding and progression. This foundation would support the weight of raiders unable to deliver the same commitment, but still wished to participate and see content. This was the yin and yang that made Descendants of Draenor work; the secret sauce that allowed us to compete with hardcore guilds without encumbering our players with an oppressive schedule.

But there was room for improvement.

Transitioning into Wrath from TBC, we still clung to the age-old Class Officer paradigm first proposed in Vanilla. Each class had its own officer, overseeing the troops that shared the same class designation. In a guild where we had enough players to field two full 40-Man raids per week, there was a huge number of players that had to be managed. The only logical way to accomplish this was to delegate responsibility. And in those days, my officers had officers. But this paradigm had no business in the new world of 25-Man raiding -- our headcount no longer demanded an officer pool of that magnitude. It was time to adjust this way of thinking. When 3.1 launched and everyone's mind was focused on Ulduar and the secrets it kept beneath the storm peaks of Northrend, I went back to the drawing board and pulled the trigger on the decision to move to Role Officers.

The concept of a Role Officer wasn't new to us; we had been running with a Healing Officer throughout Vanilla (Haribo) and The Burning Crusade (Breginna). It was one person whose sole responsibility to keep their group organized. For healers this was essential, especially in the early days of raiding. Very specific assignments had to be made for specific players -- these players would be healing the main tank only, these players here would be responsible for FFA (Free-For-All, healing anyone that needs it). And for Healing assignments, the officer had to be smart enough to know who their team was, what each class's strength or weakness was, and more importantly...which players were stronger than others. My healing officers had a great track record because they knew better than to assign unskilled players to roles of significant importance. The raid leader didn't need to bother with the granular details of the assignments; the healing officer would handle it on their own, making fixes and adjustments as needed. The healers even had their own dedicated channel to discuss assignments and work out their own strategy, without distracting the rest the raid.

It was a clean system that worked well for our Healers. It was now time to make it happen for our Ranged, our Melee, and our Tanks.

Your New Leaders

The first order of business was to tackle the logical promotions. I started with Cheeseus, the new rogue who I'd considered for promotion since the early weeks of Naxxramas. He approached me with my own concerns; we were on the same page. We both agreed that we needed a single unified leader to guide us down the path of efficiency and success. He would become that new raid leader. Next, I had to assign a healing officer. I needed someone I could trust and whom I felt approached the role with a fastidious eye. Unfortunately, my healing officer from The Burning Crusade, Breginna, was no longer available to commit to the schedule I demanded of officers -- every Friday and Sunday, no exceptions. This turned my attention towards Kelden, a reasonably new Shaman to DoD who had proven himself over many Naxxramas runs that he fit the bill. Like Dalans, Kelden also had little patience for ignorance and stupidity -- he wanted healing done a certain way and had no problems telling other players how to do it. Meanwhile, the ranged DPS would continue to be handled by Eacavissi, who had formerly held the title of Warlock officer. When I gave him a list of his newly refined responsibilities, his concern to me was that he knew nothing of Mage, Hunter, Elemental Shaman or Boomkin intricacies. I quelled his fears -- managing the role is less about what the perfect Fire Mage rotation is, and more about ensuring all the Mages know what they must do when the shit hits the fan.

On paper, the new structure was as clear as the Durotar sky: one melee officer, one ranged officer, one healing officer, and one tank officer, all reporting to one raid leader...whom in turn, reported to me. The problem: I didn't have the all the heads I needed to fill those roles...at least, heads that I could trust. Some players were going to have to wear multiple hats. By this time, we were taking two to three tanks per raid, and in multiple discussions, Cheeseus had expressed to me that there was little need beyond that. So, did it make sense to promote someone randomly, just to manage three tanks per week, two of which would be myself and Dalans? It was overkill, so I vetoed a Tank officer promotion. Dalans and I would be more than enough to manage a single additional tank each week. That left me to make a final assignment of melee officer. Nobody in my eyes was quite ready for this promotion yet. And when I brought it up to Cheeseus, he expressed to me that he was far more comfortable spoon feeding players himself than relying on someone he didn't know or couldn't trust. I proposed that the logical solution was to have Cheeseus himself run the melee officer role while leading the broad group at the same time. He concurred.

After the promotions were complete, two previous officers remained jobless. Both players were important to Descendants of Draenor, yet neither had a responsibility in this new structure. How I planned on handling these remaining two would come down to a single deciding factor:

Val'anyr.