When you show up to Archimonde attempts on a Monday night, you don't really expect much apart from a fun night with lots of wanton death and slaughter, albeit not for Archimonde himself. Killing Archimonde is pretty much out of the question at the moment. He's the kind of type-A boss who likes to demand absolute perfection out of his visitors, and that's not really what we're prepared to offer right now. We are more of an experimentation guild, the type that slaps things together with duct tape and then cheerfully proffers them for inspection, the type of guild that wanders off while important historical events are occurring, absorbed with what's going on with that duck by the pond or an interesting tree. Despite this, or possibly because of it, we've progressed pretty quickly. Too quickly to avoid leaving people behind, according to some, in the wake of an ugly blow-up that happened early in the evening and continued for the rest of the night in a flurry of tells, vent binds, and and anxious messages.

All guilds have problems and all guilds have drama; if you read the site you have the opportunity to see a lot of what goes on elsewhere if your own guild isn't host to a ton of trouble. My own wasn't for the most part until last night, and I tend to read Officers' Quarters and Guildwatch with the sense of clinical detachment you might expect from a surgeon's dispassionate survey of a necrotic limb. Not so much so anymore, I think. Guild-ending matters are usually the result of a slow burn you recognize only in hindsight, and when I read of of break-ups it's hard not to think about the names you don't know and wonder who was the whistle-blower, who tried to save the ship, who abandoned it altogether, and who was simply lost along the way.