During my time at Upon Completion, I very rarely wrote about gaming outside of reviews. However, I think my next few articles are going to be just that, as I throw reviews out of the window and dive into my life and World Of Warcraft. Like I said in my returning post, last year I became a guild master.
For those who don’t know, guilds are user made communities for players to join. They are designed to be a way for players to consistently play together in group content, though there are several variants on this idea. A guild master, as the name suggests, leads a guild of players. Some are more hands on than others, but all ultimately lead in some form.
This is my story as to how I claimed the title and role.
Leaving A Guild
It’s a weird thing to decide to leave a guild; at least it was for me. Ever since I had started playing World Of Warcraft, I had been in this guild. My friend who introduced me to the game had invited me to the guild as a safe space of kind and helpful people.
And for four years, they had been just that. I had met new people through a variety of means and some of those early experiences were both confusing and magical. The guild taught me so much about myself and the game. I learnt how to play a Warlock, how to raid, how to tank, how to socialise in an MMO and how to lead teams. I certainly wouldn’t be writing the same article now, without that guild.
But things change over time…
As I became more independent within the guild, I developed my own circle of friends. I also developed a relationship within the guild which would inevitably backfire.
World Of Warcraft : Legion was the first expansion I saw through from start to finish. The expansion launched on my birthday and it seemed like the perfect present for me. I had everything in place for a hell of a ride.
Soon after the release, the guild had a guild meet and this was my first opportunity to meet several of my online friends. It was a lot fo fun and this was when stronger relationships formed. From then on, things developed and I gained more responsibilities as my investment in the guild continued to grow.
I created my first actual alt (alternate character) who I played regularly; a pandaren monk. I learnt to play different roles, both healing and tanking, and learnt a new perspective on the game.
And when the guild started running alt-raids, I stepped up and started to become a greater presence in the guild. Over time, I became the off-tank and, eventually, the raid leader for alt-raids. I loved the role of looking after the raid and the idea of mitigating damage, instead of dealing it. But, most of all, I loved my pandaren.
Since developing myself in alt raids, I had received a handful of confused whispers asking why I had been taking my alt warlock to main raids anyway, only to reply:
“Ummm, my Warlock is my main?”
“Oh, but you’re pretty good at tanking… You should do it more often.”
So when the opportunity arose due to a change in a tank’s availability, I jumped at the
chance. And with that, Ellicia became my main.
During the last couple of raid tiers, tensions grew high as I cemented myself as a favoured tank. I had my dungeon crew, I’d established a PvP evening and I’d become a part of an additional raid night; I had guild events 5 nights a week and it was getting a bit much. But I loved it.
The moment things started to sour was when I reported some concerns guild members had regarding raiding policies. I expressed these concerns to the GM with a fairly dismissive response. This was escalated into a post in the guild’s Facebook group and greater dismissal. It left me and the concerned individuals feeling rather disgruntled and things that were once minor started to build up. This handling of, what I deemed, a reasonable request/concern really left me feeling unhappy with the guild leader. The way some of the guild members reacted to the post was somewhat disappointing too.
Over the following month or two, more grievances started to stack up and other factors pertaining to the relationship compounded the dismay I felt towards something I once enjoyed. Something I learnt through boardgaming was that it is better to play no games, than play bad games. That sentiment is just as relevant to videogaming as it is boardgaming.
If you aren’t happy playing a game, you should either change the scenario or leave. With that in mind, around April, I made the decision to do something about my scenario. I bought a guild charter, gathered four like-minded friends and established Panda House. That was the easy part.
With Panda House as an actual, tangible thing, the prospect of leaving my old guild was very real. I spent some time with the new guild members levelling characters and generally gauging the interest and commitment of everyone; it was a good, refreshing atmosphere. There was talk of lofty goals and ambitious feats; it was a nice feeling. That joy to play the game was returning. I knew something had to change and with that in mind, I plucked up the courage to talk to my old guild leader.
I explained the situation. I told him I wasn’t happy and wanted to try something different; with the new expansion looming, it felt like a good time. He knew about Panda House and had been keeping track of people slipping their characters away into the new guild. He said I’d be welcome back if things didn’t work out and it was a nice, if unnecessary, safety net to have.
It was later that week I made a little statement in guild chat about leaving and trying my hand at something new. Some members wished me luck while others were saddened by my departure, and with that, it was done.
It was a very surreal feeling, at first. Kinda like the last day at school where your happy to be gone, but sad to think you may not see your friends; a bittersweet sensation. I sat for a little, guildless, taking in the moment. Seeing that chat window that scrolled endlessly stop was so jarring. I believe I shed a number of tears, but I can’t be entirely sure…
Before I knew it, I received an invitation to a new guild; my guild. And as I hit accept, a number of excited welcomes greeted me; I was home.
Now I had to run the guild.
And that was the story of leaving my first guild. It may seem somewhat overly dramatised, but it was quite an undertaking. There were more details but I’m not sure it’s really appropriate to discuss them; the core values are there though.
Hopefully you enjoyed the read and I’ll have the next section up soon.
Let me know if you’ve had a similar experience in the comments. I’d be interested to know how other departures might have occurred.