2.33. Controlling Power

"The Eye of Tempest Keep"
Artwork by Sandara

Baby Steps

Guildies constantly offered to help in any way possible, especially those who weren't consistent raiders (but wanted to be). In many cases, they couldn't bring what I needed to the table -- they either didn't have the right class, or their character wasn't geared or keyed for Tempest Keep. It made for complicated and stressful raid rotations. Even gearing alts wasn't much of an option at that point; the entire process had to be repeated from scratch, taking into account raid upgrades from content we no longer farmed. If you hadn't worked your way through tier 4, it was too late catch up by the time we looked into eyes of Kael'thas. My tanks dwindled with Ater's fluctuating schedule and the loss of Bretthew to a hacker. I gobbled up what players I could, pointed them to the forum thread that differentiated Veterans from Raiders, and shoved them into The Eye.

While Bretthew may not have had access to his fully geared tank, he desperately sought to repair any damage to the roster that was left in the wake of the hacker. After exploring options, he managed to secure a deal with another member, Kedavra, who possessed a geared Elemental Shaman. Kedavra loved raiding but couldn't commit to the hours we demanded, so he offered his account up to Bretthew as a loaner. It wasn't a tank, but it was a raid rotation filled with someone I could trust, rather than a stranger or new recruit plucked fresh out of trade chat.

Blain began the arduous process of explaining the five-phase fight in bite-sized chunks, the only way we could digest it without forgetting crucial facts. Once again, we faced a council not unlike Maulgar or Karathress. I did my best to keep my mouth shut, but if I could let the raiders know at some point that any progress was significant, I made sure to do so. I channeled Richard Dreyfus' character from the movie What About Bob?, I repeated baby steps over and over to the raid team.

Any progress is progress.

Baby steps. 

Baby steps.

The Most Difficult Encounter

Adapting to phase one came quickly, giving us a solid handle on phase two by the end of the first weekend. We took our time, kept things steady and focused, with the immediate goal of securing a clean pass through all four of Kael's advisors. Mistakes happened, but spirits remained positive. I reminded everyone it was OK to make mistakes, just not repeat them. There were random one-shots from Thaladred and the occasional death during a fear bomb from Sanguinar, but it was Capernian's Arcane Burst which caught most of the raid off guard. Positioning was tight, and needed to be adjusted at a moment's notice. Those less spatially aware were often trapped in this explosion, which was especially challenging for those afflicted with her Conflagration. All it took was a single person to be in the wrong position at the wrong time, and a chain reaction of events toppled every player in the raid. At times, the progression team was convinced that Capernian was bugged, never working exactly the same way each attempt. But, as was typical in that era, Blizzard remained quiet about raid encounters, bugged or otherwise, so we muscled through it.

In week two, we had to improve our DPS during phase two in order to see more of the encounter. This phase involved fighting ghostly legendary weapons, and we were aiming for a very specific kill-order. We could consistently make it through the Netherstrand Longbow, the Staff of Disintegration and the Cosmic Infuser. But, we were falling behind on Phaseshift Bulwark, Warp Slicer, Infinity Blade and Devastation. Some of the raiders were losing their focus, becoming confused, and needed loud calls in Vent to direct them to each appropriate weapon. Macros also helped them switch targets to shave a few seconds off this delay. The raiders were very active on the forums, discussing their strategy, refining their individual tactics. It was encouraging to see a combined effort to defeat the encounter.

Week three saw further complications. I was hoping to be well into phase four by this point, but the "slim pickings" I'd expressed to Ater were rearing up. New people had to be chosen, some with less experience, and some whose priorities lay elsewhere. The inexperienced folks grated on Blain, who grew tired of re-explaining the same tactics over and over. As for the players who claimed to have to leave early because their "girlfriend just got home" or that they needed to "get caught up on Nip/Tick", they wore my patience thin. Frustration eventually got the better of both Blain and I, simultaneously meeting our death at the hands of Thaladred. Blain kept his anger in check; I wasn't as reserved. My temper flared, filling Vent with obscenities and the loud crack of desks being punched.

Hysterics aside, week three concluded with a glimmer of hope as we saw our first transition to phase four. Kael'thas Sunstrider himself charged into battle, disintegrating the raid with his Pyroblast. Validation! The baby steps were working. Slowly. Inch by painful inch. And there was more good news, as week three marked the first time our raid transitioned completely into phase four with all legendary weapons defeated. If we pushed hard enough, I thought, we might actually get him the following week.

Week four's raid nights would fall on January 25th and 27th of 2008, which meant the following weekend -- February 3rd -- would take a healthy cross-section of raiders out of commission. Why? Super Bowl XLII. Fantastic. The great American past time of congregating with friends, consuming large amounts of snacks and beer while cheering on your favorite team.

The Super Bowl meant about as much to me as slaying Onyxia meant to John Elway.

I didn't care about Football. All I cared about was keeping my raiders focused on Kael'thas, and any amount of down time spent watching and/or being pissed off at "the game" was a risk that detracted from our goal. In all of our time spent in World of Warcraft, this was the most difficult encounter we had ever faced.

We had one week to wrap up Kael'thas Sunstrider.

Descendants of Draenor defeats Kael'thas Sunstrider,
The Eye

Insomnia

Sunday, January 27th boasted our best performance yet. Ater had freed up his job search schedule, and was able to lend his steel to the weekend work. That little edge he gave us pushed us over, transitioning into phase five for the first time -- the final part of the encounter. I remember the evening's attempts being gut-wrenchingly close; a kill was in sight. But being caught up in the excitement of our first phase five, we lost track of players that were mind-controlled. As my raiders turned their blades against one another, Kael managed to fire off an uninterrupted Pyroblast and kill the tank, converting the attempt to a painful wipe. Everyone had come so far, making tiny bits of progress each week, but reality sank in. I was not going to have a raid the following week, thanks to the NFL.

---

The raid was cancelled the following week. The 25-Man progression team took the day off and watched the historic upset of the New York Giants defeating the New England Patriots 17-14. All I could think about was Kael'thas Sunstrider. Was this one canceled weekend going to send us into a nosedive? The uphill climb had been so grueling, chiseling piece by piece off with a rock hammer. The time-off might be too much for the raid team; they were already exhausted from four solid weeks of Kael'thas practice, sans boss kill. 

The bad dreams returned.

Players coming and going from the guild, spinning through a turnstyle. I feared us becoming a "stepping-stone" guild: where players came to make a name for themselves, only to be plucked by a hardcore guild later when it came time for the real deal. What choice did I have? I had no control. If players were leaving the guild or happened to forget their Kael'thas strategy or simply wanted to watch Nip/Tuck or decided to start harassing Ekasra again...I was at their whim. They acted, I reacted. 

The roster controlled me, not the other way around.

---

It was on the evening of that fifth weekend of work, February 10th, 2008, that our raid team was finally able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Not since our kills of Ragnaros, Nefarian and Maexxna in Vanilla had we experienced such an adrenaline rush achieving final victory. Even Lady Vashj a few months earlier felt less of an accomplishment than this. I will forever remember it as one of the most significant raid achievements that Descendants of Draenor ever pulled off. And they did, one baby step at a time.

As we stood together for our screenshot, I wondered if one day I would be able to get the guild into a state where I was in control, tired of bending to the whim of the roster. I was tired of losing sleep.

"We're not done", Blain piped up in Vent, "everyone head to Mount Hyjal."

2.28. Ashes to Ashes

The Gods of Zul'Aman - Patch 2.3 : Wallpaper
Copyright © Blizzard Entertainment

The Gods of Zul'Aman

Patch 2.3 had landed. With it came the addition of Guild Banks and a new 10-Man instance known as Zul'Aman. The new raid was nestled in the north eastern section of the Ghostlands, an area rife with Blood Elves beginning their journey into World of Warcraft. As with Karazhan before it, the guild began to assemble into groups of their own to take on this content, and no true formalization was ever etched into stone. Because of Zul'Aman's late entry into the expansion, there were no prerequisites buried deep inside it, no tentacles of attunement that wove their outstretched arms into the maze of keying requirements that already tied us up. It was nice, for a change, to have the option of simply running an instance, without the typical gates. With its smaller size and scope, it was clear that Zul'Aman would appeal to a much broader range of raiders -- yet still maintain some challenge to strive for.

Like Zul'Gurub before it, Zul'Aman contained an extra challenge, hidden for those who would attempt it. A speed run, as it would be called, was a challenge for players to push themselves, making their way through a series of bosses within a set time-limit. The timer was aggressive -- the only way to nail it was by playing flawlessly, executing bosses without even stopping to loot them, then racing to the next set of trash. A finely tuned group of ten players would look for every avenue to shave a few seconds off each corner they turned, exploiting every shortcut, utilizing every opportunity to knock time off their run. But unlike Zul'Gurub, which rewarded nothing more than bragging rights for a kill of Hakkar with priests still alive, Zul'Aman's incentive to raid with professional zeal produced a coveted Amani War Bear, an ursine creature adorned with troll-themed armor of red and yellow, the voodoo masks adding a final hint of troll flavor.

I knew this bear would be on Ater's to-do list.

The first time I knew we had catapulted ourselves out of perpetually casual beginnings was the day Ater took a group past High Priestess Mar'li in Zul'Gurub. Before The Final Cut, our best hopes of wrapping up any content in ZG was to claw our way to Jeklik, Mandokir and Venoxis. But the day Mar'li fell, Ater proudly driving the crew deeper to Thekal and Arlokk, I knew we'd broken through the casual barrier. Ater stuck it out, diligently pushing a team through the 20-Man raid, working on Hakkar week-after-week, sprinkled between our 40-Man progression raids. The day he slew Hakkar was an exciting triumph for him and the group. He thrived on challenge, and refused to be beat. So, I kept an eye on his progress through Zul'Aman, and hoped to see him show off an Amani War Bear in the months to come.

Those coming months would be a challenge for Ater, but not because of Zul'Aman.

"Ashes of Al'ar"
Artwork by Ruskiglon

Moving Out of the Fire

I was dead again.

Attempt after attempt ended writhing in a burning agony. I focused intently on the screen, aware of the looming danger that would snuff my life out in less than a second. I was determined to get it together. Yet, every attempt we made, no matter what strategy I employed, no matter how fast I tried to move, the result was the same. A ring of flames would appear at my feet, and by then it was too late. No amount of running, shielding, popping a healthstone or health-pot could save me. I was dead in an instant in that ring of fire and it drove me to the brink of madness.

Blain liked to stay aggressive. He enjoyed pushing the raid into content that the guild doubted it was able to do. Void Reaver was already down, so why weren't we thinking about Solarian? She was leaps and bounds easier to handle than Al'ar, but Blain insisted it was time to dispense with the coddling. The encounter was unforgiving, and the fiery phoenix rained down burning death on each successive pull. Handling phase one alone was a nightmare of timing: each tank had to leapfrog one another from position a, then to b, then c, then d and finishing with e. Missing a position would cause the phoenix to shower us with a torrent of fiery talons; a guaranteed wipe. So it had to be done in this awkward, uncooperative fashion. Only by bringing a consistent five tanks to our raid would we be granted any reprieve from the game of leapfrog, and tanks that were both geared and attuned were not easy to come by.

The truth was that five tanks was overkill. Four was the target in order to deliver the DPS necessary to kill the Phoenix God. They just needed to do their jobs. Therefore, leapfrog was in three of their immediate futures. The fourth tank was assigned floor duty to handle the baby phoenixes that Skarg would pull down from the upper platforms and mark for us to burn. True, five tanks would've made things easier in phase one, but may not have guaranteed the DPS necessary to get through the next phase.

The difficulty heated up as we moved Al'ar into phase two. She liked to disappear frequently, showing up in new random spots across the room, while tanks rushed to pick her up before she one-shot any clothies. Mitigating this meant positioning tanks "around the clock" at 12:00, 3:00, 6:00 and 9:00, respectively. This gave us the best chance at having a tank in range for one of her many random appearances. The part that wreaked havoc on me, in particular, was having to deal with the ring of flaming death she painted on the ground. As the cliché goes, not moving out of the fire was doing me in. But this was a entirely new level of fire. It brought death on swiftly, especially for a Shadow Priest draped in a set of Frozen Shadoweave for raid progression. This crafted set diminished my health pool and ensured Zanjina's death would be much more humorous. I cursed. I slammed my hands down on the desk.

My wife walked past the computer room and glanced in.

"Why do you raid if it makes you so angry?"

"BECAUSE", I yelled back, my blood still boiling as the rage coursed through me, "IT'S FUN."

She carried on into the kitchen, "Yeah! Sounds like a ton of fun..."

Descendants of Draenor defeats Al'ar,
The Eye

A Trip to the Keyboard Graveyard

If you haven't picked up on a common theme in TBC raids by now, let me hammer it home. Threat management was constantly a thorn in the side of a raider. Like Hydross the Unstable and his tendency to smash in the face of a healer with poor timing, Al'ar exhibited similar tendencies. Transitioning from phase one to phase two was tricky, due to the nature of the fiery phoenix being laced with DoTs as she flew between her five vantage points along the upper balcony. In a burst of flames, she would appear in the center of the lower platform, while tanks struggled to gain control of her.

...but her favorite meal was often that of a troll shadow priest.

In order to prevent her from making me lunch, we had to get a handle on letting our DoTs drop off with the right timing near the end of phase one. If I let one Shadow Word: Pain or Vampiric Touch linger on through the transition, I knew who she'd be coming for once she made her explosive appearance. I got a handle on this by never assuming it was a clean transition -- I entered every phase two as if I had left her fully dotted. Then, with careful practice and timing, would pop Zanjina's fade the instant the phoenix arrived. That was enough to let the tanks get a handle on her. For a priest, Fade was a no-brainer.

Watching Al'ar change directions from me to Eacavissi the warlock, post-Fade, often left me chuckling. He quickly became adept at timing Soulshatter to coincide with my Fade.

Well into phase two, Al'ar slammed into the ground in a fiery meteor, sacrificing herself and killing unsuspecting players that struggled to withstand the blow. Upon respawning, the battle for threat continued, as she ping-ponged around the platform, looking for a target, while our tanks struggled to get into range to pick her up. It was at this point that the fiery flame circles ended me. Not only did they cover a wide radius, they were insanely difficult to see. Imagine dripping a small ring of gasoline on a sheet of glass, lighting it, and then placing the glass on top of a high-powered flood lamp. This is what it was like to move around Al'ar's room, trying to target her, making sure you were fading on every re-spawn, all the while scanning the floor for flames to avoid.

Each attempt fueled my rage further. It took every ounce of energy to keep it under control. I desperately wanted to reach into my monitor and strangle the bird, wring its neck in my burning hands. It was during bosses like these that I missed my shaman the most. I wanted to heal.

I wanted to heal myself.

And yet, I couldn't. Even in the face of such obvious facts as my class being the very core of the holy trinity, dropping out of Shadowform to toss up a Renew or a Power Word: Shield wouldn't save me. Redemption would only come from moving out of the fire. Quickly.

So there I lay, an attempt like any other. Face down, dead again. I felt a return to the keyboard graveyard fast approaching. Then, Al'ar herself collapsed in a heap in the center of that crimson wing of The Eye. Relief washed over me. At last. I could rest in peace.

Let's Talk About Raiding

Six months into The Burning Crusade, progression had come to a dead halt. Factors included a thinned pool of raiders after 40-Mans shrunk to 25-Mans, Ater's growing work schedule which took him away from researching boss strategies, and a lack of assistance from Blain, who had retired from leadership to pursue arenas. More than anything, however, the family-friendly guild I had grown from a handful of friends at the start of Vanilla lacked a common set of expectations in approaching raids. Every player defined 'fun' a different way, and many players allowed their own interpretation of 'fun' to absolve them of any accountability in raids. 

When Ater, Blain and I determined that we had to find a way to motivate a family-friendly guild to approach raiding with the mindset of a hardcore player, we determined three things needed to change. We had to foster a sense of individual ownership in the guild's goal of defeating Illidan. We needed everyone participating in raids on the same page, which meant everyone's expectation had to match that of the guild's. And, we needed a way to identify those players which were aligned with the guild's goals, keeping them separate from those whom chose to tread off the beaten path.

By the beginning of October, Blain had returned to raid leadership and turned around the stagnant progression team, going from no progress in months, to going 5/6 and 1/4 in SSC and TK, respectively. As we began to acknowledge the efforts being made by the team to foster ownership of the guild's success, it was time to tackle resetting expectations. I drafted a forum post which intended to clear the air and set the record straight on exactly what we were trying to accomplish.

Submitted for your perusal is the content of that original forum post titled "Let's Talk About Raiding", initially drafted on October 8th, 2007.

---

When DoD first began raiding, we honestly did not know what we were getting into. A bunch of us were heading over to Zul'Gurub one night to tackle some content when Kadrok sent me a tell, "You know...we have 40 level 60s on right now. We could potentially go to Molten Core." And with that one quick whisper, God damn him, it was over. We were off and running, pretty much by the seat of our pants. The officers and I scrambled to find out what was fair, how to distribute loot, where to learn about boss strategies, when the best times to run a raid were, who should lead those raids, and what all of our roles would be. And while all of those decisions were made, we tried to keep the atmosphere fun, laid back and enjoyable.

A lot of players would call this: "Casual Raiding".

We ultimately decided that, for what our guild wanted to do, 2 hours an evening was an adequate amount of time. And, furthermore, we would maintain a large pool of players, and focus heavily on rotations. Rotations would allow us the freedom to have more people available to fill spots in an emergency. What we found in practice, however, was the following:

1) Two hours an evening was barely enough to accomplish anything. As the raid-game increased from MC to BWL, and BWL to AQ40 and so on...we felt we had a responsibility to continue running old instances, and so continued to grow our guild to a massive size, which lead to problem #2...

2) The rotations which were to help us fill spots, now became our crutch: We would rotate so many people in, we would often find ourselves running a raid with strangers, with whom we were unfamiliar with, gear-wise, spec-wise, and experience-wise.

You live, you learn. We adapted and changed our outlook on raiding slightly, while still maintaining a sense of the original guild's vision, "To have fun, and enjoy playing WoW in a respectful, mature group of players, and to progress as far as we could through end-game."

However, TBC threw us a curveball again. We discovered from previous raids that two hours is simply an unacceptable amount of time to get anything significant accomplished. Two-hour blocks cannot be overcome by adding more nights to the week; you inevitably end up with another insignificant amount of time where nothing is accomplished, and it causes burnout. Furthermore, our pool of raiders has become saturated with people that are perfectly comfortable with doing the minimum amount possible, relying heavily on their raid-mates to cover their ass, or hoping that Blain will instruct them on-the-fly as to what it is they ought to be doing. And in their defense, some direction is in order ("no direction" is flat out dumb)...but hand-holding is far too much micromanagement.

DoD will always be a guild where you can log on and hang out with friends and enjoy some quality time with people you like, I will never impose restrictions on how/when you should play WoW. But, starting today, the restrictions on the raid-team requirements change. Let's talk about those changes now:

1. Guild Ranks

The Guild Ranks have changed:

A. Guild Leader. Pleased to make your acquaintance.

B. Raid Leader. Blain. He oversees everything that goes into raiding. What bosses are we working on, and which nights. Who our top raiders are and who remains a liability. He'll mark targets and be sure that by the time we kill a set of trash, the next set is already marked. He'll review boss strategies with us pre-pull, but he won't hand feed them to you. He'll let you know when we are performing well and when need to call the raid because it's our third (and final) attempt on Lurker. He is the coach of the team, and as expected, you'll execute his plays.

C. Class Officers. You'll remember these folks. They will carry on with their duties. They'll give you advice on your class, spec, and generally be a mentor if need-be. They help me with handling applications, and will be doing a bit more in their off-hours to recruit across servers, but for the most part, their role remains unchanged.

D. Raid Assistants. This is a new role I've created to help manage raids. Raid Assistants are people of various classes and roles that are vital to a smooth and efficiently run raid. Raid assistants have various roles, such as calling out targets, declaring healing assignments, communicating cc targets to the raid, and so on. In their off-hours, they communicate raid needs back to officers, the raid leader, and myself, so that if we have poorly performing players, we know to take action. They understand raid mechanics well and will assist you in learning how to use Wow Web Stats to improve your own personal performance. They also have access to officer chat, so they can let us know discreetly if there are grave concerns in a raid that need changes.

E. Bank Assistants A & B. These are two placeholder ranks I hope to take advantage of in WoW 2.3. More info will come on their use when I know more about the future of guild banking.

F. Raider. If you are a raider, you've passed the test. We've raided with you and seen that you are a huge benefit and a core member of our raiding team. You'll be considered for all rotations in the 25-man progression raids.

G. Veteran. You have been with DoD for a good long time, and you may not necessarily feel that Raiding means all that much to you, in fact, it means more to you to hang out with us online, chat, perhaps level some alts or run some 5-mans. It simply means you have a different goal and direction than the raid-team and nothing else. You are still an important person to us. You are a veteran.

H. Recruit. You're new to DoD and still cutting your teeth with the guild. We'll promote you when we see that you've made a name for yourself with us.

I. Silenced. You've pissed us off, and now it's time to be quiet.

2. Raiders

The rank of raider is a special one. It lets us know you are an exceptional player, looking to do exceptional things.

A) You care about self-betterment. Constantly striving to improve oneself in the PvE realm. It is your day-to-day tweaks  that make our raid team strong and dynamic. To you, it is no longer acceptable to just be 20-30% below your fellow players in a statistical analysis. Every night you raid, you push yourself hard to be #1.

B) You have the same vision as the raid team: Serious, competitive progression through end-game raid content, with the ultimate goal of conquering all that WoW has to offer.

C) You learn quickly, can adapt and work well under pressure. You take criticism well, and grow from it. You have excellent coordination and can deal with emergency situations, and you hone this skill in your off-hours through PvP.

D) You are always prepared, with consumables and flasks. You are on time and never make excuses. You take personal responsibility for your own performance, and never blame other people for your own faults. If you have a legitimate problem with another player, you take it to a Raid Assistant, or higher up the food-chain, if need be.

The main difference between raiders before and raiders today, is simply this: Raiders are here to win, at whatever the cost. For some raiders of the past, it may have equated to "Just something to do tonight, no big deal, just here to have fun." It's important to understand what's wrong with this thought now:

Raiders who want to justify poor performance and behavior with 'just being here to have fun' are not raiders.

To the new raid-team, our definition of "Fun" is constant, consistent success.

In order to do that, we all need to be on the same page and be in the same frame-of-mind, and that is to stay sharp and be performing at the top of our game...every night. If you are here simply to fill the evening with something to do, or you feel compelled to raid because of something we've said or done, now is the time to step down from raiding. To those who wish to stay on and help us work through this content, I salute you. Read on...

3. Schedule

The new schedule begins this week, and it is as follows:

Friday: 7pm - 11pm (MST)
Sunday: 3pm - 7pm (MST)

We are going to start with two blocks of four hours each. The #1 cause of burnout in the past is too many nights of the week where nothing is accomplished. Most dedicated, PvE focused guilds raid in blocks of four hours (anything more is simply ridiculous imo). We are going to ease ourselves into this new schedule to start, and see if, in the near future, we can possibly work a third night in. For the moment, I want the Raiders to focus on Fridays and Sundays until we come to a point where we can reschedule.

These two blocks of time were chosen, simply to allow the most Raiders an available spot due to family- or job-related restrictions. For people that balk at this initially, keep in mind that I am well aware of Tuesdays and Wednesdays being the most common nights of the week for raiding. If we can move to them in the near future we will. I politely ask that the Raiders please work with us on these initial nights and we will see how well we do before manipulating the schedule again.

4. The Raid-Game

1. We will be analyzing our top performers each weekend and rewarding exceptional performance with gold from the bank, to assist with repairs and flask purchases. It doesn't mean you have to be #1 Dps or #1 Healer...it just means you have played well enough that weekend to make the raider leader and assistants take notice. All raiders should have the potential to be #1 at any given night, based on their luck with crit streaks or other random factors.

2. All raiders are now flasked. Every night. This is no longer optional. Potions are mandatory. Mana for casters, Health for DPSers and Tanks. Food is optional but extremely recommended. It is cheaper to flask for trash/bosses, then it is to wipe and re-clear. We are going for the gold, and we are going to be buffed accordingly.

3. We are imposing a three-wipe maximum, also to curb burnout, and to encourage the raid-team to stay alert at all times. In a four hour block, the potential for burnout on 2 full clears of trash and 17 attempts on The Lurker Below is mind-numbing. Perhaps in other guilds, the Raid Leader would call you "idiots" and continue to throw you at the boss until he dies, but we're not even going to bother. If your head is not in the game and you can't perform the task on bosses we've killed many times before, the raid ends early and you go home empty handed. I don't want to suffer through four hours, and neither does Blain or the rest of the team. So, a three-wipe maximum on previously killed bosses is your "room to breathe".

If the first question out of your mind is, "Does the three-wipe maximum reset on each boss?", my answer to you is, we'll call it as we see it. Obviously, this rule doesn't count on bosses we're learning.

4. We are going to be looking at raiders (current and future) and their abilities spent in off-hours PvPing. It has become painfully clear that most of the dynamic players who work well under pressure and adapt quickly in emergency situations do so because they have honed their skills PvPing. I am going to recommend that raiders do investigate some PvP in their off-time if they have not yet done so.

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, I would hope that these changes encourage and revitalize a lot of you for raiding. For some, I won't disagree, it may be painful, or hard to take. I will not hold it against you if you cannot step up to the task of meeting these new requirements. If you are burnt out, or if raiding no longer holds the appeal it once did, now is the time to step down, so that we can begin the process of looking at our pool of raiders and recruiting if need be.

2.22. Blain Returns

The Alliance wins a battleground despite
Blain's domination of the killing blows,
Warsong Gulch

Back in the Saddle

"Everybody head to TK."

The chatter of the raid picked up somewhat. What was this? Something new and unplanned?

"We're switching gears?" someone asked in Vent.

"Yup."

Blain was a man of few words.

"Get inside when you get there, get eating and buffing. We're pulling at 7:00 o'clock."

When I first met Blain, his abrasiveness put me on edge. I questioned Ater's choice in leaders, looked at the gear the Undead Rogue walked into Molten Core with, and wondered if it was some sort of joke. Yet the joke was quickly on me as Blain proceeded to tear the Core apart, along with a number of whiners and excuse-makers in the process. Yet this time around, it wasn't a worry about incompetency or a lack of people-skills; I worried about whether or not he could bail the water out. We'd stagnated in progression for months, barely able to claim a couple of kills on The Lurker Below. Players were leaving to join guilds that were proven and successful, and we were left with the bottom scrapings. Was it too late? I wondered. I was well beyond concern that people's feelings would be hurt by this point.

"So we're just heading to TK out of the blue, what about all the work we've put into SSC?" What work, I thought to myself, while the hackles continued to go up. Ater boldly played his hand,

"Quite frankly, morale is low. We could use a boss kill to pick people up. Blain says we can knock out Void Reaver, so it's time for a change of scenery."

In typical Blain fashion, he ignored any sort of acknowledgement that credited his decision making, and kept focused on the coordination. "Your tanks are Ater, Rocraw, Bretthew and Dalans, the kill order is skull, then X, assist off of me or Chopliver if you aren't sure. Turtleman, sheep diamond."

When I hopped off the taxi and zoned into Tempest Keep, the raid was seated, eating and drinking, and the first pack of Blood Elves that guarded the door had been marked. Gunsmokeco sent me a whisper,

"So when did Blain decide to come back to leading?"

I got my own flask up, and sat down to join the crowd in the midst of buffing.

"Last week, when we decided we were done wasting time."

I moved into position after hearing the countdown to the pull, and lit up the raid with Chain Heal. Gunsmokeco didn't know the news yet, nor did any of the shamans. I didn't want to burden them on the day we planned to turn things around. For now, I kept the news to myself, so that everyone could focus on this change of scenery and the return of their old raid leader, hoping it was enough of a morale boost to start cutting notches in our belt again. The news would have to wait. For now.

Kerulak prepares to head into Tempest Keep: The Eye,
Netherstorm

Void Reaver

The roster was reasonably solid that evening of July 22nd, 2007, and my sanity rested on a number of familiar faces. Joining Ater and Blain from the 40-Man days was Neps, faithfully running the priests since Haribo's retirement, as was Zyr, infamous for his dead-on impression of cricket sound -- the perfect follow-up to horrible jokes. Dalans was the lone Feral Druid, backing up Ater's tanking alongside Bretthew the paladin. Turtleman held the longest running mage spot, as did Houla with the hunters. Even Annihilation was present, now laying waste on his warlock Fatality, side-by-side with another 40-Man vet named Eacavissi. And, standing by my side was Gunsmokeco, a Resto Shaman who had been with us since early '06, flooding the raid with chain heals. Rounding out the vets was Abrinis, a down-to-earth, no-nonsense undead warrior that delivered consistent, top-notch melee damage -- when he wasn't talking sports with Neps. Of the 25 folks present that evening, 14 had come from Vanilla. It was time to see if the remaining 11 were carries, or something better.

Rather than two separate instances with two individual paths of progression, Blain lumped Tier 5 into a single pot. Our best chance at success in pulling out of this nosedive meant attacking the bosses from the least amount of difficulty to the most. Lurker was down (though its bugginess was still a concern), and everything that remained in SSC was non-trivial. Logically, that meant the next easiest boss would have to be Void Reaver, hiding in the western wing of The Eye. The change of scenery would not only breathe life back into the raid, but boost morale -- if we could do it. On top of it all, the reward would be significant: Tier 5 shoulders. Blain may have taught me the fundamental rule about gear not making a bad player good, but at the same time, understood the impact the reward had on the crew. We needed to get people's minds out of the sinkhole and thinking about killing bosses, if there was any chance in Hell at one day defeating Illidan.

It was a massive mechanical contraption with a tiny head, rumbling while it idled in the center of a circular room. It eyed us and revved invisible motorcycle handles, waiting to peel out and attack, while Blain led the raid through the Fel Reaver's trash packs. Once the room was devoid of any backup, Blain instructed the raid to take a circular position around the outside ring. The rest of us would move in tightly, tanks, melee, and the shamans with their chain heal at the ready. Breginna had taken up the task of helping out with healers, and assigned them locations around the ring as well. Once in position, Ater pulled the gargantuan machine, and I raced into the center of the room to wind up the chain heal spam.

Descendants of Draenor defeats Void Reaver,
Tempest Keep: The Eye

Pounding It In

There was no real "trick" to Void Reaver, from the inner circle looking out. Void Reaver would Pound the tank, knocking him back, cycling over to the next tank highest in threat. The somewhat-diminished chaos arose in determining which tank would ultimately have him, as the contraption was immune to taunt. Watching Omen was usually a good sign, but calls were made in Vent regardless. Dalans has him. Taba has him. Ater has him. An excess amount of communication was a good start for a raid that had been troubled for so long.

I can imagine the ranged had their hands full with Arcane Orb, Void Reaver's slow-motiong ranged attack that he lobbed at our ranged casters like an electric bomb caught in a space-time warp. It was slow moving for a reason; if you saw it headed your way and ran away in fear, it was already too late. The blast radius for Arcane Orb was so wide that you needed a solid head-start at getting the hell away before it caught you in its dome, silencing you for a full 6 seconds. The silence added to the arcane damage was brutal, especially to healers caught unaware. Players should have been able to track their own orb, but Blain was taking no chances. He called out every person that was targeted and whom needed to move, while juggling melee DPS and mitigating damage from Pound at the same time.

Yet once again, Blain came out on top of the damage meters, just like he had that first day of setting foot in Molten Core. Even after calling out Orb targets. Even after surviving Pound. Even after dealing with the threat of being one-shot by a boss that couldn't be taunted. A heavy sigh of relief washed across the raid that night. My players were thankful for Blain's guidance and motivated once again to tackle content. The coming months would be telling, as we set out to regain control of progression and set upon a path that would lead us to the death of Illidan. It would not be a straight path, more obstacles would throw us curveballs and the lineup would change. But at least for now, we enjoyed a momentary victory after eating weeks of crow.

---

The bids wrapped up on Pauldrons of the Vanquished Champion. The winner wasn't Kerulak. Voices in vent showed their surprise and confusion. My shaman had gone months without an upgrade, the side-effect of failing to progress, coupled with my duties driving Breginna's druid while she was away on business. The raid clearly expected me to be one of the first shamans to walk out of The Eye with Tier 5 shoulders.

"The winner wasn't Kerulak?" someone asked in Vent.

"I didn't bid."

"Why not?"

"Because," I answered, "I won't be returning on Kerulak."