Heading Up the Tiny Guild
Running a Tiny Guild can be joyous. When you have a player who discovers something new, or when all of the guild members just hit on the same idea at once, and everyone comes together to accomplish a major achievement. These are especially poignant moments in a tiny guild because, by its very nature, everyone knows everyone else. Even if you never talk to the player, you still know a bit about them, just because there’s so little other guild traffic.
But it has its downside, too. Personalities have to mesh well –at least the players have to be able to deal with those personalities they conflict with well – or there will be drama. It’s much like the back seat of Mom & Dad’s car – do the kids play, or do they gripe and poke at one another? Luckily, we have a group of pretty laid-back players; so getting along with one another isn’t much of a problem in Higher Authority.
It does cause a completely different problem though. In a tiny guild, there’s almost always one person who has to come up with things to do. In the case of Higher Authority, that person is me. It’s really unsurprising that I became the guild leader when our previous GL’s account got hacked, and he didn’t want to bother to restart the guild. I play by far the most of any member of the guild. And I am guild-loyal to the point that toons I have scattered elsewhere get little, if any play time. I also tend to be the one who comes up with ideas for group content.
I started the Dwarven Dungeon Crawl (they’re level 60, and will be launching themselves into outland dungeons this week!); and when the Laid Back Dungeons took a turn toward the slow, I implemented Guild Randomness. These things have both gotten our crew playing more. Which is awesome. But if I’m not there… well, they just don’t happen without me.
Another thing that’s tough in a tiny guild is actually the ability of the players. You really can get any level of ability, from tanking priests or extreme hunters to people who have no idea what their abilities really do. We sort of have a tanking priest (she doesn’t tank dungeons. But she plays that priest like a tank, picked talents like a tank… you get the idea), but the most extreme hunter antics we have are the stupid things I do, not awe-inspiring tames or exteme soloing antics.
In Higher Authority, I am sometimes frightened to say that I am among the best informed and most skilled players. I don’t consider myself particularly skilled. I am an adequate tank when I know the fights well and can over gear them. I am an adequate hunter for LFR. I am not stellar at either of those roles, regardless of the level of the content. I read up, so that I am at least using logical glyphs and talents, and am gemmed and enchanted correctly. I know my stat priorities and I keep my DPS hit caps.
At another corner of the triangle is a player who was so badly burned when he played a tank in vanilla that he refuses to read strategy, and sometimes even refuses to follow directions in dungeons, joking all the way.
And then we have the players who don’t really know that there are outside resources for the game. They recently asked me how I knew something, and I told them I’d looked it up on WoWhead, which they’d never heard of.
I’m sure a lot of raiders are cringing right now, but it’s my tiny guild, and what we do have is genuine fun. We might not be able to discuss tactics for 4-manning Flame Leviathan, but we do get excited about being able to get black drakes and the genuine surprise of my guild mates at what I think of as simple things is endearing. And I bet I could talk them all into running Karazahn every single week until we all got Attumen’s horse.