Eminence

I loved Wrath of the Lich King.

Despite all its flaws I enjoyed every single minute. From the moment I set foot into the frozen wasteland of Northrend I was in awe of the place. Blizzard had managed to strike a chord so deep within me, it resonated every time I ventured out into the world.

The dungeons and raids were the same too.

Lavishly detailed, crammed with story elements and dripping with so much ambience it was palpable.

Sure, Naxxaramas was rehashed content but, for the majority, did it actually matter? It was the perfect place to begin the campaign. It was the first raid tier to be released under the new banner of "accessible content" and so for the majority of us was the first taste of end-game raiding. The atmosphere was amazing and damn the place was fucking enormous.

Then came Ulduar.

Don't press the Red button

Holy shit, the city of the titans blew me away. I had already fallen in love with Halls of Stone and Lightning which twinned the raid instance but here the architecture was simply jaw dropping. It didn't matter in which direction I looked I was overwhelmed with immensely detailed, towering structures ... the scale of it was staggering.

The encounters themselves matched their surroundings. Huge hulking beasts, interesting fight mechanics and amazing role play all worked together to deliver a man-sized slice of epic adventure. Ulduar had massively raised the bar and it was going to be a tough act to follow.

You face Jaraxxus

And it did indeed prove too much.

The Trial of the Crusader, while attempting to set the scene for what was to come, failed on so many levels it was universally despised. Of course, we raided it. We had to. It was the stepping stone to the next tier of content but damn it was boring as hell. Unfortunately, too many other players felt the same way and stopped playing. Ultimately, it resulted the demise of many raiding guilds.

Had Blizzard peaked too early?

On 8th December 2009, I was greeted with the release of patch 3.3 and with it came the final raid instance of the expansion, Icecrown Citadel. This was what everything had been leading up to. We were finally going to face the Lich King and put an end to the misery he was inflicting on the world of Azeroth.

My expectations were high and Icecrown Citadel delivered in spades. Just like Ulduar before it, the environments were impressive. Huge vaulted ceilings, rampart lined balconies and stone block walls. It really felt like we were storming a strong hold.

But it was the encounters that really set the place apart for me, especially the hard modes. Each of them were memorable for their own reasons but some of them were just outstanding.

Frostmourne Hungers

And then there was the Lich King himself.

Like no fight before it, or since, this encounter gripped me at my core. The normal mode of this fight was superb but the heroic mode was on a completely different level. The mechanics were stunning. The environment perfect. But the role play, oh my, the role play was simply ...

I downloaded Paragon's video of their un-nerfed kill, I still watch it on occasion when the fond memories of Icecrown mist my eyes, and that fight, to this day, still sends chills down my spine.

To me the heroic Lich King encounter was the pinnacle of what raid encounters should be. It was the the perfect mix of storytelling, challenge and atmosphere. It was years in the making. Setting the scene for the final showdown of good versus evil entwined in every aspect of the expansion. From levelling to dungeons to end game raid content, the presence of the Lich King permeated everything. I wanted nothing more than to see the end of Arthas Menethil and his reign over the scourge.

When I finally stood in front of the Frozen Throne, I was ready.

The World Ender

That same feeling still lives with me today. There were so many stand out moments in the raid content of Wrath of the Lich King, that I can't help but smile whenever I reminisce. It was me in the mountains, I did laugh in pity at the trifling gnome, I know who they named Dranosh and I was betrayed by my own magic. And I loved every minute of it.

So, I am sitting here, having saved Azeroth from assured destruction (multiple times) and I am wondering ...

... where was the soul in the Dragon Soul?

Daughter : "Daddy, do you play games on the computer with other people?"

Me : "Yes, I do"

Daughter : "Are they your friends?"

Me : "Yes"

Daughter : "Have you ever met them?"

Me : "No"

Daughter : "How can you be friends with someone you haven't met?"

My wife's face creased into a little knowing smile and she just gave me the *look*.

Even at the age of five, my daughter has managed to ask one of the most poignant questions of the digital age - are online relationships real?

Well, from my perspective they certainly feel real.

We have stood together, against challenges we wouldn't have been able to overcome on our own. We have tasted defeat together. We have celebrated success together. We have made each other laugh. We have made each other cry. We have shared fears, hopes and memories.

But we have never met.

Has that stopped me making emotional connections to these people that feel as strong (if not stronger) as some of the ones with my 'real life' friends?

Like it or not, because of this I feel the same level of responsibility towards my online friends as I do to any of the other people I care about in my life. I hold my obligations to them to the same scrutiny as I would any other.

Sadly, I can't say this level of respect has always been reciprocated. This is especially true of my relationships with younger players.

The internet is rather special in that it transcends all social boundaries. It removes all the artifical constraints of life that we have allowed to restrict us in our everyday social interactions, such as sex, race, nationality and age for example.

However, there is one area that the internet hasn't been able to equalise. Maturity.


The anonymity afforded by the internet coupled with the fact that people don't have to be responsible for the consequences of their actions, means they are no longer bound by the social laws of acceptable behaviour in the online community.

For many, this has meant they can treat their online relationships as disposable, a cheap commodity than can be used and abused as they see fit.

As someone who has been brought up with strong morale values and taught to respect my fellow man (and woman), I find this very uncomfortable and it has taken me a long time to get used to. As a father of two young children, I wonder what impact this deconstruction of social values will have on them as they grow up and themselves become members of the digital community.

Closer to home, my wife has really struggled to come to terms with my online relationships. She doesn't understand how I can hold my committment to people I have never met so highly.

And I can, to some degree at least, understand where she is coming from.

For roughly 12 hours per week I am somewhere else while at the same time I am right there with her. I am so completely absorbed by what is happening on my monitor screen that I often don't hear her speak to me. I am oblivious to the world around me. A real life living dead.

Leading a guild and being part of a progression focused raiding team has taken considerable amounts of my time. And for that I have had to make some (lots of) sacrifices. I just hope that I have been conciensous enough to not let my digital relationships permanently damage my real life ones.

No one can really know how the internet revolution will affect our socialogical perspective and abilities to form long lasting relationships and ultimately what that will mean to our real life communities. In a world where technology is supposedly bringing us closer together, as a species, are we becoming ever increasingly distanced from each other?

From the moment it was announced at Blizzcon, the combining of the 10 and 25 man raiding brackets has been a hotly debated topic. The impact of it on the 25man raiding community has been discussed at length throughout the course of Cataclysm and with the focus now on the next expansion it has once again come to the fore.

The death of 25 man raiding

Quite the opposite in fact.

With the introduction of Raid Finder, Blizzard single handedly gave 25man raiding the biggest shot in the arm it could having stated themselves that LFR only really works successfully in the 25man format, as the raid composition requirements are far more forgiving. By investing significant time and resources into the feature they have unequivically shown their support.

As recently as this month, Zarhym posted stating that they have no intention of stopping designing 25man raids. Blizzard's internal data doesn't give them cause for concern that the community has shrunk to such a degree that it is no longer cost effective to continue investing in 25man content. Add in the fact that their development process generally revolves around designing new content in the larger format and subsequently scaling it down, then there is little to worry about from that end.

However, that isn't by any means the end of the tale.

The community will make the decision for them

Cataclysm has been brutal for 25man guilds.

Looking at my home server (Dunemaul) alone the story is tragic as far as the 25man scene goes. Of the 96 guilds who had completed at least one 25man encounter in Icecrown Citadel, only 22 of them have defeated at least one boss in 25man Dragon Soul.

That's a loss of 75% during the lifespan of Cataclysm.

And of those 22 who remain, only a handful are still actively raiding the 25man content, most have either downsized to 10man raiding or quit raiding altogether.

I wouldn't be so bold as to suggest you can apply these same numbers to all other realms but I am more than willing to bet a considerable sum that the trend is there. And if that trend isn't somehow abated, then there won't be a 25man community left to invest in.

The reality isn't a lack of raiders, it's a lack of leaders

One of Blizzard's primary agendas since the launch of Wrath of the Lich King has been to drive more if its playerbase into the end game content. They have been extremely successful at this and today more players than ever are raiding regularly.

However, the dual effects of shared loot tables and achievements has resulted in there being no incentive at all for raiding 25man content over 10man content, other than personal preference.

What this has actually meant in real terms is that there is now much more competition for raiders.

This competition has compounded the challenges of running a successful 25man guild. Unlike the business world, there are no 'ecconomies of scale' when running a guild, in fact the complete opposite is true.

In my own experience, recruitment has been hard but member retention has been the biggest problem. Any team has a natural attrition level and it's part of the territory to deal with it but with the added difficulty in attracting players of the right calibre, keeping the roster complete has been tough. At times it has meant taking on players who fall short of ideal requirements and by extension reducing the potential of the team.

Understandably, the 'better' players in the team become frustrated at the slow down in progression or reduction in the quality of the raids and decide to move on elsewhere. And thus a vicious cycles is realised.

This extra pressure placed upon the leadership teams of 25man guilds has caused a lot of them to question why they are doing it at all. There are no tangible rewards for the extra effort they put in and the stress of keeping everything together and running smoothly is significant. Unsuprisingly, many Officers have arrived at the only logical conclusion.

It just isn't worth it.

Give us a reason to lead

Blizzard know there is a problem, they've admitted it themselves. They know that the combining of the two raid sizes hasn't played out exactly as they had hoped. They haven't yet revealed their strategy for raids in Mists of Pandaria but they have revealed that they are going to re-examine the decisions they made in Cataclysm.

One thing is abundantly clear.

They need to do something. They need to give those of us who have the capacity and inclination to lead a 25man raiding guild an incentive to do so. Because if they don't, Mists of Pandaria could very well be the last time you see a 25man raid in the World of Warcraft.

Alts.

They are the life blood of many players who want to get the most out of their playtime but they have never worked for me. Recently, someone asked me if I was going to roll a Monk when Mists of Pandaria is released. For me, the answer was easy.

I don't do Alts.

My history of playing online games is rather chequered. Fantasy based multiplayer RPGs specificially. So when I finally buckled and accepted a free trial offer for World of Warcraft from one of my close friends, I had absolutely no intention of playing beyond those ten days.

Loading the discs, I eagerly installed the game, leafing through the (very small) manual that came with it and read the brief notes on the game that awaited me. Installation complete, I registered an account and entered the trial key. Done. I launched the client and logged in for the first out of (what would turn out to be many more than) ten days.

Having little knowledge of what would await me on the other side, I stared at the character creation screen bewildered by the vast array of options available to me.

My very first choices were actually no choice at all. I had a number of colleagues and friends who were already veterans of the game, they had established a home realm and had a guild, so Server and Faction were already set in stone.

When it came to Class, I had few preconcieved ideas of what each of the nine available options had to offer. My most extensive previous experience of playing an online RPG was some *cough* fifteen *cough* or so years ago playing a MUD (multi user dungeon for the un-initiated), the eponymous Elephant MUD, at university so I was familiar, well at least, with the concept of some of the classes.

Remember, at this time I only intended to be playing for 10 days so I wanted something fun. I knew from playing games like Neverwinter Nights that I didn't really get on with spell casting mechanics, I just love the speed and emidiency of the melee playstlye. I had played a warrior exclusively during my time on Elephant MUD, so I knew I had an affinity for blade wielding machines of death.

However, there was this class that I had yearned to try during my MUD playing days but could never bring myself to re-roll and drag myself back through the levelling process (a factor that would strangely reappear in Azeroth) in order to satisfy those cravings. I was insanely jealous of those who had chosen to play them and I was in awe of their ability to ruin my play time (a practice called griefing these days and it's extremely frowned upon).

So in the end, the decision was kind of easy.

Rogue it was.

Race was less of an issue. Having never played any of the previous Warcraft games I had no feelings (good or bad) towards any of them, I was completely nieve to racial bonuses and traits, I chose purely on aesthetics. I wanted to be an evil-looking, player-griefing, stabby, stabby, annoying bastard and so the Forsaken seemed to me, at the time, to fit that profile. Plus I guessed not many people would have chosen an Undead Rogue (oh how little I knew back then).

Last but by no means least was my name. That was simple. I resurrected the name I had used for my warrior on Elephant MUD. Don't ask me why. I hadn't used it since I stopped playing Elephant, because of all the baggage that was associated with it, but it just seemed the right thing to do. Maybe I had some subliminal precognition of what was to come. Who knows?

So there I was, a freshly baked Forsaken Rogue stepping out into the world of Azeroth for the very first time. The cotton glove sanctuary of the newbie training area gently nudging me through the first few levels and introducing me to the basic gameplay mechanics.

To say those first few hours were amazing would be an understatement. Ever since I had stopped playing Elephant MUD I had searched for a replacement. Something that would fill the void it had left. I had played so many different games in the years since then, many of the most seminal and acclaimed games ever to grace gaming systems. However, while the adventures were some of the most compelling experiences I have ever had, none of them satisfied me in the way that World of Warcraft had in just a handful of days. I was hooked.

Of course, the inevitable happened.

The ten day trial expired and I had no hesitation in upgrading to a full subscription.

Levelling was simply staggering. While my class wasn't entirely everything I had anticipated, it was just stunning - no pun intended. My friends had decided to roll some new characters to join me in the levelling process and were sick with jealousy at my class's ability to just keep on going with no downtime. I was a one man army. A blood crazed killing machine.

I would laugh with pity at the other players I saw mindlessly grinding their way through mob after mob, while I used my Rogue's unique abilities to silently close in on my target, claim my prize, and exit again before they had even managed to break through the entrance defenses.

My playtime was filled with finding more and more creative ways to use the skills at my disposal to short cut the quest objectives or wreak havok on the filthy alliance players that would often cross my path. I would hide in the shadows spying on my victims, formulating a strategy before going in for the kill.

The more I played, the more I enjoyed. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And I became a Rogue.

If levelling had taught me how to feel like a Rogue then PvP taught me how to play like one. Entering the combat arena made me realise how little I knew. I had to relearn everything I though I had mastered. I was introduced to such alien concepts as keybinds and using my mouse to move (though to this day, how I ever managed before, I will never know).

With my new found dexterity I discovered a whole new level of ability that was until that point hidden to me. My friends, to whom I had become the easy target, refused to duel with me anymore. Battlegrounds had ascended from being frustration filled graveyard shifts to full on slaughter fests. I also had some limited success in the Arena, managing to aquire a full set of Vengeful Gladiator equipment. So now, not only did I look like a Rogue and play like a Rogue, more importantly than all that, I felt I had become a fully fledged agent of the shadows.

Then came PvE.

Raiding, for me, was a revelation. It felt like finding the missing piece of the puzzle, the final chapter in the book. The skills and techniques I had learned in the killing fields transferred perfectly into the frenetic pace of raid encounters and they satisfied my lust. I have never looked back.

It has been over three years since I made that first decision, since I felt the calling of the brotherhood of assassins. In all that time I can honestly say that I have not regretted my decision once, I have never desired to play any other class.

During my time as guild/raid leader I have been intrigued by the healing playstyle. I totally get tanking, I've even managed a little of it on my Rogue. But healing has always eluded me. So in pursuit of expanding my knowledge in that area I created a Druid expressly for the purposes of learning how to heal. Levelling it has been painfully slow, helped only by the dungeon finder, and now that it sits at level 80 I find myself lacking in motivation once again.

I just don't feel it.

The connection I have with my Rogue is so strong and I have developed such synergy with playing the class that I can't imaging playing anything else. If you were to cut me in half, it would read "I am a Rogue!".

Objective

— adj
1. existing independently of perception or an individual's conceptions: are there objective moral values?
2. undistorted by emotion or personal bias
3. of or relating to actual and external phenomena as opposed to thoughts, feelings, etc


One of the key aspects of being a successful leader is the ability to keep your emotional state under control. If your goal is to keep a happy, hemogenous team then you can't allow your inner feelings to taint your actions or behaviour.

Leaders who are unable to do this don't remain as leaders for very long. They either loose the ear of their team or worse, they become victim to their own emotions and buckle under the pressure. Either scenario results in the same outcome; they become ineffective and are no longer able to lead.

While this concept is well established as a key trait in leadership, it is often ignored when it comes to the members of the team itself. And in the realm of team based co-operative gaming, like raiding for example, the ability for the entire team to remain objective is even more important.

Raiding is a relatively simple process. As human beings we have a nearly limitless capacity for repetition so long as we satisfy one simple need - we need to feel like we are improving (no matter how small) at what we are doing. You practice a set routine until you become proficient enough that you defeat the encounter. Then you refine your strategy with each subsequent defeat until it becomes automatic. It really doesn't get much simpler than that.

So, what happens when the process fails? When the simple path laid out in front of you becomes a hazzard filled climb of seemingly insurmountable obstacles?

In my business life, as a manager, I am able to promote objectivity from within. Whenever the need arises I am able to gather people together and coach them, leading them to an outside perspective that enables clear thought and processing of events.

As guild/raid leader I am required to remain objective at all times, and I have no qualms in saying that I am pretty damn good at it. I am old enough and world wise enough to recognise that sometimes "bad stuff just happens" and be able to deal with it. Not allow the events of the previous raid night shape my attitude to the next.

For all it's joint ventures and shared experiences the online community is, for large parts, disconnected. The times when our human socialbility is required to soothe and repair emotional difficulties we are cast adrift, expected to deal with these issues alone and unguided.

It's at times like these that I hope the atmosphere I have tried to promote within the guild, gives at least a small foundation from which we can all find the objectivity to resolve our dissatisfaction, without direct guidance.

With a little objectivity, we can prevent an exception becoming a norm. With a little objectivity, we can stop ourselves from cascading downwards into a self fulfulling prophecy and emerge stronger than ever.

With a little objectivity, we can rule the world.

It is with a heavy heart (and an unexpected feeling of relief) that I type this. I had hoped to be bringing a tale of a last minute dice roll, that came up all sixes and saw us dig deep within ourselves to overcome the final challenge of the Firelands.

Alas, it wasn't to be.

Despite all our efforts. Despite that we were far ahead of the average progression curve. Despite that week on week, even when it didn't seem like it, we improved in some way. We missed our glory by the cruelest of raid mechanics, time.

As with all really difficult raid bosses, Ragnaros had been tagged as the "guild ender" and looking at the number of 25man guilds who have fallen apart because of this one encounter I feel, in this case, it is aptly applied.

The average number of attempts for a first heroic Ragnaros kill clocks in at something around 400. From the moment we started on him to the last pull on Monday we chalked up 260 attempts. Considering that, as we progressed further into the fight, each attempt was averaging at around 8 minutes (with our best attempts lasting at least 10 minutes) if we were to take the average 400 pulls, then we are still looking at another 6 days (or two solid raid weeks with lock-out extentions) before we would see the kill.

In all that time we (mostly) held it together. While there is no doubt that cracks were starting to be formed in everyone's sanity it was only in the final moments, as the futility of it all sank in, that emotions started to spill over.

It's a testament to the strength of our team that they (mostly) turned up night after night to repeatedly slam their heads into a brickwall. That they returned, after a terrible performance on the night before, and refused to be defeated. It is incredible to say that we often saw our greatest progression the day directly after a huge set back.

I am humbled by their resilience and I consider myself very lucky to play with each and every one of them. My only regret is that I didn't manage to lead them to victory.

What are the first things you do after reading through a new application? Personally, I run on over to the Armoury and inspect the applicant's talent spec. I compare it to the community agreed "mathematically optimum build" (the so called cookie cutter spec) and highlight / query any deviation. There is absolutely nothing compelling about this. It is an inane process of judging a person's ability to find the right information and then apply that to their character by pressing the appropriate buttons in their talent UI.

Sometimes, albeit rarely, I find a little interest when someone has done something different with their "free" points and can have a discussion around their choices. It's in these fleeting glances that player personality starts to bleed through.

It's fair to say that in its current guise, the talent system is little more than extra flavour in the levelling process.

So with this in mind, it was with immense interest that I greeted the announcements from Blizzcon that the talent system has undergone a radical rethinking and I don't think anyone could have predicted what was to be revealed.

Choosing to throw away the traditional metaphor of what a talent system is and giving everyone all the performance increasing, damage reducing, key spec talents by default they have paved the way for introducing all the flavour, complexity and personality we could ever ask for.

There is a definite need for compelling, difficult choices and certainly it looks like that is what we are going to get. By grouping similar but significantly different talents together and only allowing us to choose one there is immediately a level of customisation that has never existed before. Suddenly, we will be able to choose talents that compliment our play-styles and allow our individual personalities to come through.

A perfect example is the Rogue level 45 tier. It asks us to choose from 3 "self-healing" talents;

Cheat Death
A powerful damage mitigation talent that allows us to survive an otherwise killing blow.

Leeching Poison
A new poison that provides a small but never-ending Heal-over-Time.

Improved Recuperate
A more powerful Heal-over-Time that consumes our precious damage dealing resource to be applied.

These are all very appealing in their own right but trying to decide which one of them is the "best" is extremely challenging, each one comes with its own pros and cons. On top of that I expect that different scenarios or encounters will skew the relative merits of each choice in favour of one or another. I can see there will be a lot of fun to be had determining which talents will best support our given role at any one time. Brilliant!

A quick scan of the other tiers of the Rogue “tree” (though it isn’t really a tree anymore) reveals similar, agonising options. And with no direct performance enhancing talents there doesn't appear to be any right or wrong choices. It's a bit of a poke in the eye for the theory-crafting community but the benefits are plain to see. With the no brainer choices being made for us, it will be player skill that separates the good from the "bads" and not the semantics of a misunderstood tooltip.

Obviously, there are a lot of wrinkles in the new system that still need to be ironed out but the core concept is solid.

Though there are scant details on what this means for the fate of the already established mechanics, class trainers for example, but there was this titbit from the recent Mists of Pandaria Developer Q&A Session;

Q: Are we going to require items to change talents like changing the glyphs?
A: Yes. Our goal (which is more important than the mechanism) is that we don't want swapping talents to be a huge pain, but don't want it to be so easy that making the choice isn't interesting. We don't want players to feel the need to swap talents in 5-player dungeons or for every trash pull in a raid.

My question is - Why?

Sure I get the point that you don't what the situation where players feel they *have* to consider their talent choices for every pull but I consider that comes down more to the encounter design, be it trash, 5-man boss or full on heroic raid boss. But if that is what someone wants to do, why not let them? Talent / Glyph swapping per encounter is already an established practice in raiding guilds, in fact some encounter mechanics virtually demand it.

I guess the mechanic will be similar to swapping Glyphs, in that a reagent or consumable will be required to reset talents (or, god forbid, there will be a significant cooldown of some sort). While this will be better than the current "hearthstone > class trainer > warlock summon" process, it will still have the same impact on team focus when the raid flow is broken while waiting for someone who is taking a key role in the next encounter is out of consumables or on cooldown.

I've never understood this mentality of Blizzard's to put artificial hurdles in trivial processes under the banner of "flavour" or "meaningful / interesting choices". Clearly they want to discourage the behaviour but it smacks a little of the nanny state to me and I quite frankly find it absurd.

Talent System 2.0 is shaping up to be the shake-up we needed. Let's hope Blizzard stay true to their vision and deliver the parfait we deserve.

The clock ticked frustratingly slowly as I eagerly awaited the start of Blizzcon 2011 and the news it would bring with it.

Over the last few months the World of Warcraft community has been simmering with stories of the next expansion. Recently, Blizzard revealed that there would indeed be an announcement at the upcoming convention and the rumour mill went into overdrive.

There were multiple “leaked” documents, links to online patent applications and photo-shopped images that all hinted towards an expansion centred around one of Azeroth’s most mysterious inhabitants, the Pandaren. Though in the face of all this, the respected community sites remained tight lipped on anything they knew.

Whatever was to come, something had to be done. Cataclysm has felt stale. From the very beginning of the expansion something has been missing, something which brought players in their millions (literally) to the world of Azeroth during Wrath and that now it is gone has similarly driven millions away.

FUN!

When Blizzard announced the launch of Cataclysm they stated that one of their aims was to reduce the amount of time a player was compelled to commit to the game. They felt that players were forced to play too much to keep up with their peers. Of course, what they didn’t factor in was that they actually wanted to play that much.

The two most common words I hear in guild chat, outside of raid nights, are “I’m Bored”.

The raiding scene’s barrier to entry is so high that unless you are lucky enough to be part of organised Alt runs or off-night excursions into older content, then the chances of successfully putting a group together, killing some bosses and having a laugh is extremely low.

Again, to be successful in rated battlegrounds you need to be part of an organised team. For the average player, who logs on when they have time and looks for a quick burst of fun there is little in store except defeat and frustration.

Outside of raiding or PvP there is actually very little to do. Archaeology hasn’t delivered on its promise, very few new achievements were added, queues for 5 man dungeons are depressing if you happen to be DPS and when you actually do find a group they are more often than not destined to failure. Is it any wonder that those who were lured into our fantasy world when the Lich King commanded the scourge are leaving in droves?

As they announced the Mists of Pandaria expansion, Blizzard cleared stated their intention … to bring fun back to the World of Warcraft. They have listened to their customer base, have read the feedback and have chosen to act in the face of their staunchest critics.

For all the “wrong” reasons, Mists of Pandaria will be a resounding success. I am completely sold on their vision.

I applaud Blizzard.

We've all been there.

The last raid on your current progression encounter was really good. The brick wall mechanic you were running into suddenly clicked, you made immense progress and the team is buzzing. Farm night arrives and you are all eager to get it out the way to get back on the main target.

Spirits are high as you run into the first boss. The kill is a little shaky but he dies none the less. Sights set firmly on the second boss and you charge in. Then something happens. You falter. Little mistakes compound on each other and you call a wipe.

No matter. Regroup and go for another pull. But it happens again. Not catastrophic failure by anyone in particular just little mistakes that build up to cause another wipe. And another. And another. Then people start accidentally pulling trash packs. Or their pets charge into the boss in full Leeroy tribute. Voices start to rise, fingers are pointed and raid leading goes from casual suggestion to micro management.

Like an apple left in the bowl for too long, the raid has turned bad.

There is nothing quite like it. From out of nowhere a seemingly well integrated and co-ordinated raid team turn into the PUG from hell. No matter what you say or do the night just gets worse and worse. Never the less you stumble on. The end of the raid can't come quick enough.

When you finally log off and go to bed, your head is filled with a torrent of emotions and mixed feelings. A night's sleep washes away the bitterness but there is still the lingering feeling of regret. A good time lost forever.

So for all the Raid Leaders, Guild Officers and to some extent the Cannon Fodder out there who have felt this pain, here are some tips on how to stop a fail night becoming the fail norm;


Remember, It's Only A Blip
Try to keep your perspective. It's all too easy to apply the performance of the last raid to your team's performance in general. Raider Leaders have a unique ability to be blinkered to the general trends in their team's achievements and tend to base their emotional state on the last raid they attended.

Rather than focus on the last raid, look at the general performance over the last three or four resets. Are you trending upwards? If so great, write the night off and move one. If not, well that's a story for another day.


Lead By Example
As a leader, your behaviour will be looked upon and criticised and/or mirrored by others. People want to believe in their leaders, so by extension you need to believe in what you are doing.

While a bad raid can be destructive to the team’s morale, if handled properly it can actually be turned around to cement performance increases in the future. If the opportunity arises, listen to your team about their experiences of the raid. Showing them that you are interested in what they have to say will dissolve their chagrin and gain their respect. If they don't respect you, they won't want to follow your lead.

Every raid, either good or bad, is a shared experience and the teams that emerge stronger are those that choose not to focus on the failures but strengthen their relationships on the successes.


Focus On The Positive
Look for something, anything, that you did better this raid than previously. It might be a player getting ranked. Maybe you beat your kill speed record. Perhaps you got the kill even though you were some key members missing.

Whatever it is, make sure you find it and celebrate it.


Avoid The Blame Game
The natural reaction to poor performance is to try and find out why. While this is definitely beneficial, there is a time and a place for it.

Analysing the raid logs after a night of wiping on a progression boss may uncover weaknesses in your team, strategy or execution but pouring over parses to try and apportion the cause for a bad farm night will only destroy the integrity of the team you have spent so long building.

Finger pointing will always be met with defence. There are always a million reasons why someone did what they did and on any other night when the bosses tumble like skittles nothing would be said or even noticed for that matter.

Microscopic investigation of bad farm nights serves only one purpose, to make the observer feel better about their own contribution.


Learn From Failure
In the world of software development, there is a project management framework called SCRUM. It proclaims many virtues, one of the most controversial being to "celebrate failure".

The general principle is that by embracing failure we can identify and resolve small problems before they become insurmountable issues. Development teams are encouraged to "fail fast, fail cheap".

These same concepts can be applied to raid teams, especially on bad farm nights. They give us a rare opportunity to look at the core processes of a raid and identify where they are succeeding and more importantly where they are failing. Officers especially should pay special attention to dissecting the 'non-performance' aspects of the raid such as communication, leadership clarity and team morale.


In Summary
The key thing to bear in mind is that you are the master of you and your team’s destiny. By keeping a positive mind balance you will stop yourself from getting burned out by the things that don't really matter and be able to focus on the things that do.

** This is a continuation of a previous blog entry - "Throwing in the Towel" **

On the 27th June 2011 at 11pm, our mumble server errupted with ecstatic shouts victory and relief. On our last raid night before the relase of Firelands, after over 120 attempts Eminence had finally defeated the heroic Omnotron Defense System encounter. For us it was the pinnacle of our Tier 11 raiding achievements and the beginning of the end of an arduous struggle.

For me, it was the final proof of a feeling I had been cultivating for some time. We were back!

Rewind a month or so and I was on my ass. Raiding had gone from being a pleasure to a thrice weekly battle to push a reluctant, shambling behemoth up a spiral staircase. Considering quitting had become a regular mental exercise and the stress was starting to creep into my real life.

So where did it all go wrong?

The elephant had a name

Well for a start, the content had been more challenging that I had expected; The ease with which we rolled over the Icecrown heroic encounters and the many weeks of levelling / gearing had made us soft. The increased focus on personal accountability had uncovered glaring weaknesses in our roster and with morale plummeting, the demands on my time were increasing.

I started finding it increasingly difficult to summon the positivity needed to lead effectively. When I logged in for raids it was with a heavy heart. I tried my best to hope for something good not daring to imagine what the reality would be. Basically put, what was once fun was now making me feel shit.

I don't know exactly the events lead up to it but as I typed my passowrd one night before a raid, the now usual lead weight rolling around the pit of my stomach, I stopped to consider exactly why I was feeling the way I did. It was then I had an almost epiphanic moment of clarity. It was so obvious I didn't know why it hadn't occured to me before.

I was burntout.

So this is what it feels like

As leader of a raiding guild it's in my interest to be able to recognise the signs of burnout in my members, so I can take steps to limit the damage and give the affected player some respite.

Not that burnout has really been much of an issue in Eminence, our raid schedule is sufficiently light but raiding late at night adds an extra element to the mix. Most of my experience of it has centered around players who are already spending far too much time in Azeroth as it is, ignoring the extra demands progression raiding was placing on them.

Anyway, considering that I am well versed in the symptoms, I was more than a little surprised that I hadn't recognised them in myself.

I had always been careful to try and not over-stretch myself, always trying to keep the game / life balance in check (I said trying) and give myself extra rest when I felt the pressure mounting. I didn't have a problem during WotLK but I guess the extra demands of Cataclysm had tipped me over the edge.

Alas, here I was.

The road to recovery

I wasn't exactly sure if the changes in my behaviour had been picked up by anyone, certainly no-one had said anything to me about it, but I became acutely aware that unless I did something then it wouldn't be long before I would become a detrimental influence to the guild and my family alike. That was the last thing I wanted.

Deciding the best way forward was to channel my frustration into a positive endeavour, namely bringing about the changes that were needed to pull Eminence out of the hole we were digging for ourselves, I resolved that after the next raid I would deeply examine the raid logs and make a detailed list of everything we did right and everything we did wrong. It actually ended up being the first of many posts I made on our forums regarding the passivity and general malaise that was rampant in the raid team.

I didn't realise it at the time but this became the first step to re-igniting the flame inside me.

As the weeks progressed, I became more aware of the problems we had and started to recognise the changes we needed to make in order to fix them. Our progression was being held back by the values upon which we had built and cultivated Eminence, those values being a natural extension of my core beliefs. In short we had outgrown our culture. A culture that was formed on how I believed a successful raiding should be managed and now that very culture was preventing us from achieving our ambitions.

And it was by challenging those guild values and taking a different perspective to our culture that I started the process of repairing myself.

During a recent raid we were discussing the changes Cataclysm had brought about and its affect on the raiding scene in general. I threw out a comment that was rejected instantly -

"Cataclysm has destroyed 25man raiding"

The initial reaction was that I was clearly wrong. However, I still stand by what I said, just not in the context in which it was received.

On the face of it, 25man raiding is alive and well. There are many 25man guilds who are regularly raiding and enjoying success. Indeed, the very best of the best in the raiding community are 25man guilds and there is no sign of that changing any time soon. To the casual observer everything is fine and dandy.

Except it's not.

Managing a raiding guild is complicated (notice I didn't say it was hard? That's a topic for a different day). As guild leader you have taken on the ultimate responsibility, you have been handed the keys to a large slice of 9 or 24 other individuals’ leisure time. They are putting faith in you to deliver on your promises and make sure that their precious time is money well spent.

The pressure can be, at times, overwhelming. To keep a 25man guild running smoothly you need a roster of at least 34 active players. That's 33 people asking for a slice of your time and attention, as well as all the other housekeeping tasks that come with the role. Obviously, there is your Officer team who help lighten the burden but there still a lot to do.

But, there was always the pay off.

25man raids used to be the cream on the top. The reward for the extra effort required to manage and organise a roster to support the larger raid, was the kudos that came with it. If you were leader of a consistently successful 25m raiding guild then you were doing something right and you had the trophies and recognition to prove it.

The combining of the 10 and 25 man formats has done away with that. As it stands today, as leader of a 25man guild, unless you happen to be in the top 1%, there is nothing in-game that separates you from the plethora of 10man guilds on your server.

Without direct recognition of the effort involved, I have witnessed a huge number of 25man guilds downsizing to 10man or even disbanding. The leadership teams clearly realising that compounded effects of having to now compete with 10man guilds just isn't adequately compensated. The members concluding that, actually, there are very few upsides to being in a bigger raid.

And it is to this I was referring with my throw away comment -

"Cataclysm has destroyed the core ethos of what it means to be a 25man raiding guild"

This could easily be fixed though, if Blizzard were to take the simple step of separating 10 and 25 man achievements. By giving each bracket something unique (title / mount ?), we would instantly be given an incentive. The loot doesn't matter, they were right to remove that as a consideration, but the decision to blur the progression boundaries was a mistake. Blizzard have already pointed reference to the fact that they recognise they haven't got it quite right and there will be changes in the next expansion. I really hope this is one of them.

Eminence has a rather chequered history when it comes to 10man raids. Our roots are firmly planted in 10man raiding and it's something that is still evident today in our approach to new raiding Tiers. However, our relationship with the format has had both its highs and its (very) lows.

We started life as a dedicated '10man strict' raiding guild. Having concluded that the pain of trying to organise 25 individuals into a single unit just wasn't worth it, we enjoyed great success and started making a name for ourselves.

Time marched on, bosses fell and it wasn't long before we started yearning for more. We had been doing so well as a 10man team that we felt we could transfer our knowledge and experience to the bigger raid format and enjoy the kudos and benefits (remember them?) that came with it. After two failed attempts we managed to make it stick and the rest, as they say, is history. I have never looked back.

When we committed to making the jump from 10 to 25 man raiding I stipulated one thing; that I would only accept responsibility for managing our main raid. I didn't have the time or the desire to try and juggle the micro-politics of multiple raid teams within one larger team. Though naturally, there has always been a under-lying current of members who desire more raiding than our main schedule provides and they are free to organise events as they please.

Over the years, there have been numerous attempts to organise 10man raid groups and it would be fair to say that nearly all of them have ended in disaster. Most have usually failed before they even began; People not turning up, poor performance from the first pull, general apathy or intolerance. Certainly every single one of them has generated its fair share of drama and on at least one occasion, the resultant fallout nearly split the guild apart.

Those that have been successful were organised by and contained a good slice of the Officer team. Naturally, they managed where the other groups failed because the Officer team has a great deal of experience when it comes to what makes a raid work. They have had the luxury of time to experiment with what works and what doesn't. Unfortunately, if you are trying to put together an off-night raid within your existing guild you will not be afforded the same level of patience and understanding, the raid will be expected to operate at the same level of efficiency as everyone has come to expect of the main raid.

So, what can you do to make sure you have the best start possible? Here are a few pointers that I picked up along my journey;

DEFINE YOUR PURPOSE
Are you a group of friends that just wants to have some casual fun? Is there unfinished content from the previous tier that haunts you in your dreams? Maybe, you have seen the need for some viable options in the main raid you you are seriously gearing some alts.

Whatever the reason for putting the team together, you need to know it and you need to state it. When you know your destination it is much easier to navigate your way there.


FIND YOUR VOICE
Every team needs a leader. Period. Your main raid couldn't function without it's raid leader(s) and the same applies to your off-night adventures.

Confidence comes from knowledge. Do your homework; Plan your kill order. Make sure you understand the encounters you are going to attempt. Study the strategies for successful completion. If you are sure of what you are going to do then you can be sure of your ability to lead it.


SET A SCHEDULE
Your raid is only ever going to be a success if you can fill it and the best way to make sure you repeatedly fill your raid is to make sure you do it at the same time, on the same day(s), every week. As much as we don't like to admit it, our lives are governed by routine. If there is something I want to commit to, be it a TV series / weekly sports event / family dinner, then I will make room in my life for it. But that's only practical if it has a regular timeslot otherwise it will more than likely clash with some other commitment.

It is the same (if not more so) with raiding. Choose your schedule, make it known and stick to it!


PREPARE FOR FAILURE
Sure, your main raid is going great. Your progression is going a pace and you down bosses with little trouble. So it figures that pulling ten of you together and throwing yourselves into raid is going to be a breeze, right?

Wrong.

Your main raid has synergy. A natural balance of order that has developed over many hours of shared experiences. The social aspects of your relationships will remain but to all intents and purposes you are a new team and you need to prepare to play, grow and fail like one.


DEMAND DEDICATION
Just like you are expected to give yourself to the main raid, so you should demand the same level of commitment from those who have signed up to your raid. This might be a casual bit of fun, but for every player who decides to jerk around there are 9 others who have made sacrifices to be there.

Don't stand for it.


STATE YOUR LOOT POLICY
It might seem a little melodramatic but nothing brings out the little green monster quicker than those purple pixels. Having done everything you can to ensure your raid runs smoothly you don't want loot drama to bring it all crashing down around your ears.


ABOVE ALL ELSE ... MAKE IT FUN!

I would be lying if I said I hadn't considered quitting. In those dark times when 'the plan' is failing, when it feels like I am the only light in the shadows. When I no longer have the strength to keep pushing that boulder up the hill.

I'm sure every officer of a raiding guild has, at some point, fantasized about giving it all up. Maybe even imagined the words they would choose for their final farewell.

These impulses never last for long. One thing that constantly surprises me is the rate at which emotional states change in WoW.

My most recent "episode" though, lasted a lot longer than any before and was not (as usual) abolished by a surge in progression.

We ended Wrath of the Lich King ranked #8 on the server. This was partly due to us continuing to raid right up until the week before the release of Cataclysm, where other guilds had already given up, but we had been making consistent and steady progress up the ranking ladder throughout the expansion.

When Cataclysm was released my goal for Eminence was clear; to push ourselves into the Top 5. I knew that due to us starting late on Tier 11 this would be an almost impossible task but I wanted us to be as ready as possible for the next tier.

Our first steps into the Tier were tentative but it wasn't long before we had cleared all the normal content and were progressing nicely into the heroic encounters.

Then it happened.

Bosses that we had once mastered and now considered "farm" content, started tripping us up. Fights that were frankly beneath us became massive obstacles in our progression push. We were spending hours wiping to trivial encounters which, on our limited schedule, was extremely frustrating.

We had a very strong team. On paper we were capable of so much more but we were failing in every way possible. Sure the kills kept coming but it was more luck than judgement. We were sufficiently geared to stumble across the finish line, often on our hands and knees.

Out came all my usual strategies for pushing us over a hump but no matter what I did or said, each week we got worse. My attempts to re-engage us into the content failed, we had simply stopped caring.

I despaired.

This caused me to start questioning whether it was all worth it. Whether the time investment and personal sacrifices were justified anymore. I was no longer getting anything out of raiding apart from disappointment and frustration.

I was broken.

Has it really been 8 months since my last post? I've failed on my one post per week target by quite a margin. Though in my defence, I have been rather busy m'lud. Both in my real and online lives so I guess I'll hide behind that.

Last time I posted, Eminence was tentatively taking its first steps into Tier 11 after our raiding hiatus from the Cataclysm launch.

The better part of the last year has been spent locking horns with the best Blizzard's raid designers have to offer and the effects their changes have had on my guild and the raiding scene in general.

One of the most hotly debated topics at the start of Cataclysm was the new "flexible lockout system" and the fact that all raid sizes would share the same loot tables and achievements. The promise being that all encounters no matter what the size would be tuned to near equal difficulty.

There was outcry. All manner of doomsday scenarios where predicted. The death of 25man raiding was prophesised and I too was a little caught up in the hysteria, apprehensively awaiting the changes and what they would mean for Eminence.

So, how has this played out?

Well, I'll start firstly with its name. The system is flexible. Until you start to push heroic content that is. Then the flexibility all but disappears which is maddening to say the least. I'll cover why in a moment.

Recruitment has become a full time job. With the sheer quantity of options available to raiding players it's no longer a guild's market, control has firmly been placed in the hands of the player and guilds are having to work harder than ever to attract applicants of the right calibre. And when they finally do, the pressure to deliver on advertised promises and retain their raiding core is immense.

The primary way in which a raiding guild's success is measured is by its progression through the current Tier of raid content and since now all achievements are shared across raid sizes, so is progression. Naturally this has resulted in 10man and 25man guilds being compared side by side. The competition has exploded to massive proportions.

In the opening weeks of the Firelands, we felt compelled to raid more than ever to remain competitive and attractive to potential recruits. We are officially a 3 nights per week guild but during the first few weeks of Tier 12 we were raiding 6 nights per week. The "flexible lockout system" allowed us to keep to our scheduled 25man events and then run off-night 10man raids to push our "combined" progression further. By the end of week 2 we were into heroic content.

It's here that the inflexibility of the "flexible lockout system" becomes apparent. Defeating a heroic encounter locks you to raiding further heroic encounters at that same size. It removes any flexibility of being able to downsize the raid for heroic content, making it extremely difficult to get early intel on upcoming encounters. Extremely frustrating.

It's not all bad though.

Personally, I don't see the shared loot tables as being a problem at all. I don't feel any less rewarded for getting the same gear as someone who defeated a boss in a smaller raid size. We also benefit from applicants generally being better geared than they used to be.

I no longer feel the pressure to try and get into a 10man run on off-nights in order to get BiS items and make sure I am contributing the best I can. Though as an unexpected (to me) side effect this has completely devastated the PUG scene.

We are now able to put together "clean up" 10man raids on the night before the lockout reset. It's much easier to put together a 10man raid on off-nights than hope for 25 members to attend or resort to pugging. Also, I am reassured in the knowledge that the members that do attend are able to get relevant gear that will help our progression.

Lastly, I feel that we have options for when things don't go the way we expect. If, for whatever reason, we are in the situation that we need to downsize the raid (not that it has actually happened yet) we have the option of making at least one 10man raid that can continue where the 25man raid left off.

When it's all said and done, the system is here and there are no signs of it going away anytime soon. We have found the areas where we can abuse it for self-promotion purposes and banged our heads against the baffling design limitations.

Blizzard have acknowledged there are problems with it and have pledged to attend to those in future expansions, though what they believe those problems to be and how they intend to resolve them remains to be seen.

The hardest part of leading Eminence across the release of Cataclysm was deciding when to restart raiding.

By our nature, Eminence is a guild where its members generally do not have vast amounts of time to spare, so grinding their way through levels and dungeons in order to get themselves raid ready was going to be a lengthy process. Though with that said, there was an element within the guild that were planning to level and gear as fast as they could in order to be among the first who entered the raid content.

We weighed up all the different factors and constraints and arrived at a date that gave us a really good chance of fielding a competent 25man raid team. Sure it was quite a number of weeks after the release but we had announced it and given everyone plenty of opportunity to feedback.

However, it wasn’t as plain sailing as I had anticipated.

I had completely underestimated how important chasing “Realm Firsts” was to one member in particular. He was totally driven to be the first of his class to level 85 and grab realm first kills of raid bosses. So strong was his focus on this goal that he started to lose sight of the fact that he would need at least 9 others to help him get there.

The inevitable conclusion was that his relationships with the guild members who were caught up in his enthusiasm started to breakdown and eventually he lost the respect of most of the guild membership.
While losing members was not unexpected, in fact we planned for it happening, I was surprised at how quickly this situation arose and concluded.

The net effect was that we lost an important member of the guild and a good friend. But there were other knock on effects that took a little longer to be apparent.

The members who were also riding the levelling wave were now levelled and geared enough to be tackling the heroic dungeons and it would only be a short time before they were actually raid ready. There weren’t enough of them to form the right composition for a 10man raid team and the rest of the guild membership was still way behind with the start of the official raid calendar still months away.

In short, they were bored and desperate to raid. It’s a minor miracle that we didn’t lose more of them to guilds who were already actively raiding. For that I am extremely thankful.

Another aspect I hadn’t considered was recruitment.

Towards the end of WotLK we had progressed to be one of the top 10 raiding guilds on the Realm. We were already handicapped when recruiting due to having a late night raid schedule but our rank gave us some respite and access to skilled players.

With the release of Cataclysm and our extended break from raiding we are significantly behind the progression curve and while personally I am not bothered it does mean that potential recruits are less attracted to us than before. The number of new guilds is just staggering and there is simply lots more competition for players.

It has been a rather bitter pill to swallow.

With the benefit of hindsight, what would I have done differently?

Firstly, I think starting an official 10man raid calendar earlier would have been a good move. We would be able to display a competitive level of progression and attract more applicants of the right calibre.
It would also have given us a jump start on the mechanics of the encounters and given us an insight that we could translate to our 25man raids. Although, I have to say that, formulating a strategy within the larger raid group is proving to be exciting and is, at the moment at least, resulting in better overall understanding, performance and execution rather than trying to teach an established method to the uninitiated.

I would also have recruited more aggressively before the expansion was released. I was nervous about over populating the guild and selling something we couldn’t deliver but experience has now taught me that in this situation numbers win out.

Lastly, I think I could have prepared myself better for the levelling process. I was so preoccupied with making sure the guild was resilient enough to survive the transition period that I completed neglected to plan for my own grind. I was one of the last members to achieve level 85 and certainly not an example by which to judge the rest of the membership.

How do you manage a full-time job, a wife, 2 young children, a busy life and a successful raiding guild?

Badly.

Well, in my case at least.

I have, quite painfully, fallen into the Guild Leader trap that “if I’m not there things will fall apart”. I have made many real-life sacrifices to “be there” and often for very little reason. Especially these days as the guild is more than capable of taking care of itself, a fact really brought home with a successful raid and our first Cataclysm boss kill which was run without the assistance of either me or my co-Guild Leader (and Raid Officer).

If I’m completely honest (and I haven’t always been to myself) then I have let things slide quite a lot with my wife (and to some extent my kids).

I'm sure like most male players, my better half doesn’t like World of Warcraft. She doesn’t have anything against the game itself, it’s the all-encompassing affect that it has on me. Being a man, multi-tasking is already not my strong point and when I raid I concentrate so much that pretty much block everything else out. Much to her chagrin.

Add in to the mix that I have this over inflated belief that without my constant guidance then Eminence will stop existing and you can see much in her argument about it taking up too much of my spare time.

With that said, she rarely complains. Only when I have been spending an excessive amount of time playing and leaving other real-life tasks to her does she say something.

This behaviour of mine is not limited to gaming though. I also have the same sense of duty towards my job. I often work many (unpaid) hours of overtime, to be available in case someone needs me. I rationalise to myself that just be being there I am increasing the likelihood of success.

Obviously this can’t continue, although it has for far too long.

As my children get older they demand more of my time and attention. As my responsibilities at work get wider I find I have less time to give to all of my commitments. As the raiding season starts again and my game time picks up my wife is less tolerant of my apparent vacancy.

So I have been pondering what I can do to once again achieve order in the chaos.

I have a rather obsessive nature. This website is a testament to that. Believe me when I tell you that every single pixel has been considered. Each change I make is re-worked until I achieve what I consider to be perfection. In fact it's this trait that has lead me to be so successful in my career although I have had to learn to live with a certain level of incompleteness (with of course the promise that it will be finished at a later date).

And I think it is here that I may find the answer to regaining balance in my life.

Consistently challenge myself and ask - "Are you actually adding value?"

The one problem with wishing for something is that one day you might actually get it.

And so it seems is the scenario many of us face while trying to get raid geared using the Dungeon Finder. A quick scan of any WoW related forum is enough to see how many are crying out in dismay at the 30+ minute queues.

Are these complainers the very same who cast scorn upon the "Welfare State" of gearing towards the end of WotLK? I'm willing to bet they are.

The fact is, that Blizzard listened and actually agreed. But not quite with what was being said.

WotLK was an interesting expansion in many respects but one which has been at the centre of some of the hottest debates was the view that Blizzard had "caved in to the casuals", that the game had been dumbed down to cater for the lowest common denominator.

And it's true that Blizzard had an ambition to bring more of the player base to the end game, who could blame them. The amount of time and effort dedicated to developing raid content is on par with that spent on entire zones.

However, they were a little too successful. Maybe a little too cautious. It was completely feasible to raid the first tier as a fresh 80 in quest greens, ignoring normal (and to some extent heroic) dungeons all together.

And many did.

This coupled with stale and boring raid content saw many experienced raiders hanging up their epics. The response to plug the gap was to make raiding even more approachable with access to high level gear being almost painfully easy.

The average gear level of players running heroic dungeons completely trivialised them and meant that many non-tanking specs could actually Tank with ease, so they did and the Dungeon Finder queues were almost instant.

During the development of Cataclysm, Blizzard admitted they had made a mistake and they were determined to correct it. They were going to increase the difficulty of heroic dungeons and raid content to ensure there was a proper progression to the end game.

Fast forward to today and it's clear they were true to their word. Dungeon content is actually quite challenging. The "faceroll" heroics (were they really that easy? well that's another story for another day) of WotLK were no more.

The result? DPS can't Tank. The true state of the Tank population is revealed. Dungeon Finder queues for DPS (and Healers to some extent) are long and when you can get a Tank they are usually very unforgiving of mistakes (safe in the knowledge that they can get another group within seconds of queuing).

And rivers of tears are flowing all over the WoW community.

Careful what you wish for.

What is communication?

One could quite simply say that communication is the exchange of information between two points. Although this definition may work in some contexts it ignores the complexities of interpersonal relationships. Perhaps a better definition in this context would be any behavior on the part of one person that has an effect on the current or future behavior of another person.

You cannot not communicate

Have you ever watched a news broadcast where some celebrity, political figure or corporate entity has refused to comment on a current news story in which they are involved. Depending on context this lack of communication may be perceived as failure to take responsibility for their actions or an admission of guilt.

We have no choice but to communicate, by not replying to messages or refusing to take part in a discussion, whether that be in your personal or business life, you are still communicating a message. When you don’t say yes, that could be perceived as no by default and vice versa. The only choice we have with regards to communication is how effective we want our communication to be.

Effective Communication

To be an effective communicator one must first recognise that we all experience the world through our five senses and use these experiences in conjunction with our values and beliefs to build an internal representation of the external world, a map. Another persons map may be different to yours based on their life experiences, values and beliefs. When we communicate, we do so based on our subjective maps.

If I were to say to you in conversation that "Burger King tastes better than MacDonald's", I would have communicated something about my preference, my subjective experience. This statement could meet with approval or disapproval depending on whether our individually created mental maps regarding burgers were in sync or otherwise. Note that the statement says nothing about either MacDonald's or Burger King.

What is the meaning of communication?

Does the meaning of a communication lie in what we intend to convey? Or how it is perceived? NLP places emphasis on the later and takes into account the effect the communication has on the behavior of another person. This is equally true whether we are communicating face-to-face, over the phone, over the boardroom table, by email, or in writing. The meaning of the communication is the response it elicits.

Therefore, the meaning of our communication is not what we think it means, rather, its in the response we get from the other person. As a result, we can become better communicators if we construct communications that elicit the response we desire from others.

• you can change your communication until your desired results are obtained
• the person with most flexibility of behavior can control the outcome of the interaction
• the resistance you get is a comment about your inflexibility as communicator
• if what you are doing is not working, do something different.

note : this article was shamelessly ripped off from NLP Training Scotland

I've never been really bothered about the annual Blizzard Covention before but this year was different.

With a vested interest and a number of unanswered questions, I eagerly awaited what was to be discussed during the Raids & Dungeons panel. Blizzard have been extremely coy about their intentions for the 10/25 raiding split apart from the introduction of the shared lockout.

Any leader of a successful 25man raiding guild is waiting for the answer to one simple question ... What is going to be the incentive for continuing to run large raid teams?

And the answer we got ... "er, we're working on it"

It's the answer I hear all the time from my development team when they don't have a solution and are fresh out of ideas.

The response was backed up with the oft used soundbite ... "you choose to run 25man because it's what you find more fun" ... and this would be fine in a world where all things are equal, however they are not.

It has already been proven in the beta that in most instances the 25man encounters are significantly harder than there 10man counterparts. The reasons for this are not just the obvious ones which can be 'fixed' with tuning (incoming damage relative to group healing throughput, dps requirements, boss health, boss ability strength, etc) but also logistical challenges that are not so easily balanced.

For example, in one encounter there is a main mechanic (and associated achievement) where the raid has to spread out to avoid chaining. This has been found to be trivial in the 10man configuration but due to the size of the playfield, virtually impossible in 25man.

It's exactly these kinds of scenarios that 25man guilds relish but only when there is some kind of reward for the extra investment required to overcome them. As it stands there is no incentive for guild leaders and raiders alike to make the extra effort (in the latest testing it seems even the 'more drops per person' mindset has been removed).

Blizzard have set themselves the Herculean task of balancing 10 and 25 man raiding to give everyone equal choice. If they pull it off then they can justify not rewarding larger raids in preference to smaller ones. On the other hand, if they don't, they have practically signed the death warrant of 25man raiding.

To me it's a stretch too far and I am waiting for the announcement of some unsatisfactory and hastily put together reward package for the 25man scene. Quickly followed by tears from the 10man community feeling like the second born son.

Time will tell.

After nearly 18 months at the helm, I'm still troubled.

For all my people management skills, experience as guild leader and comfort with taking 25 unseen people into battle, I still struggle with one area of managing a raiding guild.

And I think it's holding us back.

In retrospect, I think if I had any idea of the amount of time and energy (both physical and emotional) it would take to build Eminence to the point it's at now, I'm not sure I would have accepted the position.

Don't get me wrong. I am so glad I did. When I left the warmth and safety of my RL friend's guild to try this alien (to me) activity called raiding I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would see and do the things I have. Just to think that I could have missed so much of the game sends a chill down my spine.

But the cost of creating a community like Eminence is high. I have made sacrifices both in and out of game that any sensible person would commit me to the mental asylum for. It certainly isn't a path I would recommend for anyone who has real responsibilities.

Am I a better person for it? You bet I am.

In the workplace, there is a motivator for performing that just doesn't exist in the gaming community ... money. Irrespective of what you do for a living, you still need clothes and food and in the end above all else that drives you (mostly) to turn up and do your job.

And because of that, Managers can put expectations on those who they are paying to perform. They can define the level of performance that they expect and re-define it as often as they like. Calling into question anyone who doesn't meet the grade.

This is where my biggest failing as a leader of a raiding guild lies.

Gaming is an optional, recreational activity. People play to have fun and relax, to escape the pressures of real life ... be that work, school, family, whatever. In my mind, these facts prohibit me from having the same level of expectation I have of my employees.

Also, because of the amount of myself invested in Eminence, I am hesitant to do anything that would see it fall apart. I suppose it's a little like the feelings I have when I watch my children scaling the enormous climbing frames at the park, running over to stop them the moment they climb high enough that a fall may result in injury.

Ridiculous, I know.

I have received a lot of criticism about my "soft" leadership style. Something which I have spent a long time trying to change, convinced that this was the reason for my lack of ability to make demands on the raid team. It's taken a while but I have finally accepted that I cannot (and on reflection, definitely shouldn't) change my style.

So here it comes full circle. I know Eminence can perform. I know we are selling ourselves short. In order to achieve the level I know we are capable of I need to set high expectations and demand more.

But is being part of something great, a big enough motivator for me to set such unrealistic expectations?

As I said, I'm still troubled...