#kerdic

After a nearly five-year hiatus from Moon Guard in-between mid-Mists of Pandaria and late Legion, I decided to finally return for an extended period of time to the server. I’d just suffered a major breakup in the real world and decided to retreat to a place of familiarity. I was, admittedly, anxious at first around my old comrades who I’d feared would only remember me for the breakdown I’d suffered near the end of my 2-year tenure as the guild’s previous guild master before its current one, Demitria.

However, my fears were unfounded at first. Old regulars accepted me as a long missed friend. Newer faces piqued with curiosity at my unique position as Demitria’s predecessor. Perhaps paradoxically, Demitria was simultaneously the person I harbored both the most kinship and anxiety towards. I’d internalized my emotional trauma from that breakup, and Demitria offered an unexpected ear as I began to reacclimate myself to the League. It didn’t take long before Demitria and I started spending late nights together, reminiscing about the League’s long history with each other. We spoke about our failed relationship in the past, mutually agreeing we were both emotionally immature at the time. I actively praised her ability to keep the League’s community healthy, a considerably impressive feat during the lackluster subscription numbers of Legion and Battle for Azeroth. While the friendship between Demitria and myself typically only coincided with my activity in World of Warcraft, it was welcomed during a time where I was rebuilding my social sphere.

Unfortunately, this bond between Demitria and I developed into what I can only interpret as a persistent grudge that lasts to this day. 

When I returned to the League, I was granted the rank of “Advisor,” a newer rendition of the old veteran rank I’d created to honor past officers and longtime regulars with immunity to the inactivity policy. “Advisor,” was vaguely described as a position with no real authoritative power, but respected as an equal among the guild’s current officership. To my understanding, this extended to both an in-character and out-of-character fashion. Considering my experience with the League, coupled with a lack of desire (and time) to commit myself again as an officer or even GM, I accepted the role readily. I wrote my character as though he were the guild’s figurehead, a true-blooded Lordaeronian, as a way to denounce longtime critics who lambasted the League employing non-Lordaeronians in its upper echelon. Out-of-character, I worked to encourage activity and participation from the guild, especially in interguild relations. The League had grown insulated from the rest of the server by Legion’s climax, and considering Battle For Azeroth was about to launch with an epic siege on the League’s prized possession, it made sense for us to lay the necessary groundwork for our guild to take center stage in any server events involving the Siege of Lordaeron. This was well received, to my understanding, until the officership decided to enact a reformation of the officer ranks.

The distinction between the League’s two officer ranks, Lieutenant & Captain, have always been practically non-existent outside of a simple affirmation of a character’s seniority within the League. Demitria and her officers desired a melding of the two into a “Command Council” rank. While the “Command Council” as a concept already existed, it did so as an extension of the longtime established ranks that followed an easily readable military ranking system. Now, one was promoted from Sergeant to “Command Council” to Major (the League’s co-GM position), and unsurprisingly, many found the change jarring including myself. Guild ranks demand a consistent format, which this change proved detrimental to, regardless if you supported a military theme to the ranking structure or not.

As an “Advisor,” and more importantly as someone who cares very deeply about a guild I’ve poured years of my life into, I began discussing the changes among the enlisted (non-officer) ranks of the League. Some preferred the traditional military ranks like myself, while others were disappointed that the Command Council rank theme only applied to the officers, seeing it as a half-measure to what they expected to be a complete overhaul of the guild’s thematic ranking structure. Nevertheless, I decided to utilize the guild’s ranking structure by speaking to an officer underneath Demitria first about the dissent I was observing. I was asked by the officer to identify who specifically complained about the ranking structure, and given I held a level of trust in who I was speaking to, I chose the officership’s interests in this matter over maintaining the confidentiality of those who spoke to me in private. I felt I was doing the right thing. Managing the disconnect between those in the officer sphere and non-officer sphere is a tricky affair, and I felt I was uniquely in a position to help.

What ensued was nothing less of a disaster. The officer I spoke to immediately informed Demitria, who then chewed me out for “inciting Highschool-esque” drama behind her back. She was infuriated that I’d barely given her new changes a chance before criticizing it, and then subsequently approached the people who’d given their confidential opinion to me in order for her to personally ascertain their complaints. I was mortified at this response, because not only did it hamper the trust I’d accumulated between the “rank and file” of the guild and myself, but I was blamed for criticizing a new system that I’d been disallowed to give input on until its public announcement. Demitria told me, over discord’s voice feature, that I’d essentially “stabbed her in the back” after this debacle and I just burst into tears. This was the girl I entrusted my guild with; the person I trusted with my personal relationship issues when I was at my most vulnerable. I had been placed into the position of Advisor to help the League flourish, and now I was being criminalized by Demitria for having attempted to bridge the gap between officers and non-officers.

Our conversation (if you could call it that) shifted into the topic of trust between Demitria and myself. At the time, I’d grown close to a girl within the League and we’d become budding new roleplay partners. The late-night talks between Demitria and myself typically brought up the question if I was pursuing my new roleplay partner romantically. I’d thought nothing about it at first as Demitria was my close friend, so I usually answered this question candidly with a, “It’s too soon to tell.” However, on the night Demitria chewed me out, I was burdened with an ultimatum that I was now required to inform Demitria if my roleplay partner and I ever engaged in a romantic relationship or suffer the consequences. If I neglected to do so, Demitria threatened to “never speak to me again,” citing our previous relationship drama as justification for her severe attitude. I was in tears, upset, and scared of losing yet another friend in my life, so I agreed to her demands.

It took me several months after our falling out to recognize the egregious behavior she displayed towards me that night. For someone who is extremely protective of her private life, I find it blatantly hypocritical for Demitria to have demanded insight into my own. I’ve confronted her on this particular issue long after my departure from the League, but she “has no recollection” that it ever happened, as if I merely fabricated our entire argument. However, I remember that ultimatum from her very vividly. People tend to do that when they’re pushed to the point of tears because they’ve been manipulated by someone they considered a friend.

Unfortunately, the story of my departure from the League doesn’t end here. 

“You’re a competent soldier, a skilled fighter, at least thirty years younger than I. Took me only to see you spar with Brendyn to tell as such. You don’t hesitate, nor do you treat sword-fighting like a gentleman’s duel.

Blackbloods have a different sense of honor—or rather the absence of it. You understand that better than most, and that is enough for me to be wary of your fervor in battle.

You were meant to lead, Pavel. The new recruits look to you for expertise, as they once did for me. Care for them well, as you would your own kinsmen back home.”

“There are some with respectable skills in combat left. I have faced difficulties while fighting against some, though I have yet to truly meet one that has come from the same upbringing. That has the experience I have. There are many that do not care for honor. I do not know the reasoning for it, and while I do not implore it on the Blackbloods or any that pledge themselves to the Horde, it does not allow me to lead them with ease.

There is a wall— between myself and most of the Leaguesmen. I know that I am capable of climbing, though I have yet to find out the correct method in doing so.”

“The truth is, Pavel, you need not fight as they do. That wall is not one meant to be climbed, but shattered by the Leaguesmen upon the other side. Give them reason to follow you—to abide by your will. 

“You will be a Lieutenant of the League soon, Sergeant. A military order that many consider home—forced to, as our enemies have laid waste to their ones prior. I trust you understand the weight of that burden.”

“I know what it means and I will not lead our kin astray.”

“The very essence of the Alliance’s origin lies within that tabard, Sergeant Wright. Lordaeron represents more than just a kingdom... It represents all that stands between us and our enemies. The precipice between civility and anarchy. Be you from the southern lands or the highlands, it is a bond that we’ve all shared since the Second War. Remember that.”

“I will remember it.”