Previously … my guild begged the raiding core to return to World of Warcraft from Lord of the Rings Online, where we were happy and birds sang and women were free with their sexuality. Despite all that free love, we answered the call of duty and were prepared to do what was necessary, as long as our “good ole boys” faction was similarly prepared to do what was necessary. It was about then that the word “mutiny” was whispered. By me.
Recall that we, the raiding core, spent an ENTIRE WEEK on Ventrilo talking to Boss Hogg and the good ole boys about what we’d need to rebuild our guild into its former glory — and in modern gaming, rebuilding is de facto, every few months, here we go again type stuff. We, the raiding core, knew the kind of nuts that would be required to restore glory. Like … logging in when we really didn’t wanna, logging in when we’d rather watch the final Sopranos half-season (and wtf!), logging in when our imaginary girlfiends preferred we didn’t … it’s a commitment, we got it. Been there, and y’know …
We were denied and we were not happy. Guildmates /whispered to and fro. As I said, it was about then that the principal good ole boy enemy announced he would be offline for a week and I floated the idea of Mutiny.
It started as a joke, then the idea became more than just a dream. The day before he (PGOB, principal good ole boy) returned, it was a password in the guild /whispers for who was with us … and who wasn’t.
PGOB returned and he was not amused. For the last time, the guild (no, wait, he capitalized that in /tells), The Guild would not bow down to our demands. But we could talk about this (YET AGAIN) in Ventrilo in three days, after he did his vacation laundry. Seriously. He had laundry and he couldn’t be bothered with Ventrilo convos for 3 days.
Although I didn’t understand this whole urgency about laundry, I could wait and said as much. Practically speaking, recruiting post-Burning Crusade was not the cakewalk that pre-BC recruiting was and we had nothing to lose by waiting.