Raiding

Why You’re Sitting Out in Raid Tonight

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Nobody likes hearing it.

You show up on time, your consumables are ready, your addons are updated, and the raid plan has been reviewed. You’ve been grinding this tier for 10 weeks. And then five minutes before the first pull, you get the message.

“Hey, sitting you for this one. We’ll get you in later.”

It stings. Even if you’ve been raiding at a high level for years, even if you’ve made this call yourself a hundred times, being on the receiving end never stops being uncomfortable.

I’ve been on both sides of it. In Death Jesters, I’m sometimes the second or third choice to come in, and it’s usually when one of our primary players is away. In Last Call, I have to handle the roster responsibility from boss to boss. The honest truth is that making the call is often harder than getting it. Not because the decision is unclear, but because I know exactly how it feels to read that message and wonder what it means about where you stand.

Here’s a glimpse of what actually goes into it, from someone who’s been working through a roster every week for a long time.

There Is No Formula

The first thing to understand is that I don’t have a spreadsheet that automatically sorts the roster and spits out who’s sitting next. There’s no universal ranking where the bottom person gets benched, and everyone moves up a slot. It doesn’t work that way. There were times when I wished I had some type of grading tool akin to Fantasy Football rankings, where it would help make that lineup setting and decision-making easier, so that I didn’t have to think about it.

Every boss asks for something different. Every week has a different context. Roster decisions are almost always a blend of several factors at once, and the weight of each one shifts depending on where we are in the tier.

If you’re trying to reverse-engineer why you sat by comparing your logs to someone else’s, you’re probably looking at the wrong thing entirely.

On Progression, the Boss Decides

When we’re actively progressing on a new boss, my first question isn’t “who’s performing best?” It’s simpler than that: what does this encounter actually need?

That question has many answers, depending on the boss. Sometimes it’s about raw class or spec composition — we need another ranged, or we’re running too much melee, and people are tripping over each other. Sometimes it’s specific utility: a Warlock gateway, a Death Knight grip, a Paladin immunity, a Druid knockback. Sometimes it’s survivability — I need players who can reliably handle a specific mechanic without needing a rez every other pull.

I ran into this exact problem just last week on Crown of the Cosmos. I’d committed to a comp that ended up being short on mobility tools, and I spent an entire night patching around it with awkward grip assignments that only worked as long as nobody died in the wrong order. It was my mistake on the comp, and it cost us time. The players weren’t wrong — the setup was.

Some bosses make the requirements even harder to negotiate around. Midnight Falls, for example, has a minimum floor: you need at least two Death Knights for grips, at least two classes that can do knockbacks, a Priest for friendly crystal grips, and an Evoker for the mobility. That’s not a preference list. That’s the encounter telling you exactly who has to be in the room. If you don’t have those pieces, you’re not progressing that boss. Someone who doesn’t fit that checklist isn’t sitting because of anything they did. They’re sitting because the encounter is making the decision for me.

That’s the thing about progression sits: they usually aren’t about you. A very good player can sit a progression boss because the encounter favors a setup that doesn’t include their class. That’s not a judgment on their value. It’s the boss asking for something specific, and we’re trying to give it what it wants.

But hey, that’s the demands of Mythic raiding. I know some of my players have lamented the requirement of certain class compositions, but that is part of the difficulty at this echelon of playing.

On Farm, Loot Becomes Part of the Equation

Once a boss is on farm, priorities shift.

We’re not solving the encounter anymore. That means I start looking at loot wishlists, Droptimizer recommendations, who still needs tier, who’s missing a key trinket or weapon, much more closely. If two players are equally viable for a slot and one of them has a meaningful upgrade on this boss while the other doesn’t, that becomes a real factor.

Farm nights aren’t easy breezy runs. I still want clean kills with a full team that knows what it’s doing. But farm is also how you build the raid for the next tier. Getting the right gear onto the right players now is part of the investment.

It’s also the time to consider the future and work in any alts or main switches for the following season.

Fairness Matters More Than People Think

Beyond composition and loot, I’m keeping a mental ledger of who’s been sat and how often.

A roster dies slowly when the same people keep getting the short end of the rotation. Even if the decisions are all individually defensible, if you look up three weeks in and the same two or three players have been sitting more than everyone else, something’s wrong. People start to feel like permanent backups. That quiet resentment builds into attendance issues, then recruiting drama, then players quietly finding another guild.

I try to catch it before it gets there. If someone has been sat multiple times in a row, that weighs on the next decision even if the current boss could theoretically work without them. Long-term engagement matters more than optimizing a single pull.

Trials Need Real Reps (And So Do Some Veterans)

If I’m recruiting a trial and they never actually play, I can’t evaluate them.

Logs tell me a fraction of what I need to know. I can see throughput and mechanical awareness from a log, but I can’t see how someone communicates under pressure, how they respond after a bad pull, whether they ask smart questions or mentally shut down when things go sideways. Farm bosses are where I find out who someone actually is as a raider.

Our roster has a real range of experience. Some players have multiple Cutting Edge achievements and have seen versions of these situations before, such as Fyrakk seeds and the crystals in Midnight Falls. Others (and there’s no shame in this) are in their first serious Mythic environment. Those players need reps too, maybe more than anyone. It’s one thing to read a strategy guide or watch a Taktyks video. It’s another to be mid-pull, realizing a mechanic is about to overlap with your cooldown window, and having to think through it on the fly. That kind of decision-making isn’t something you can shortcut. You have to earn it through repetitions.

I’ll rotate someone into a farm boss because they need the practice planning their movement, managing their cooldowns around boss events, or adjusting their rotation when something unexpected happens. It’s not supposed to be filler. It’s meant for development. And that development pays off weeks later when we’re deep into a progression boss, and I need everyone thinking, not just reacting.

Scheduling is part of this too. If a raider is heading out on vacation for a few weeks, it doesn’t make much sense to bring them in on a new progression boss we’re expecting to kill while they’re gone. They’d be investing pulls into learning a fight they won’t be there to finish. Better to give those reps to someone who’ll be present for the kill and needs the experience.

If you’re a veteran sitting a farm boss for any of these reasons, I know that’s frustrating. But it’s also how the guild builds depth for when you actually need it.

Reliability Counts, Even When It’s Invisible

Here’s one factor people underestimate: I notice who makes the night easier to run.

Showing up on time. Having consumes. Knowing the plan without needing it re-explained (but confirming their position or interrupt order). Having addons sorted for the mechanic we just talked about in Discord. Keeping a character properly maintained. None of these things show up in a log, but they all add up. When two players are genuinely close in value, the one who creates less friction usually wins the spot.

Raid leaders remember who makes the night smoother. It’s not glamorous, but it matters.

The Call Isn’t About You, Even When It Feels Like It

The most common things I hear after a sit decision are some version of:

“But my numbers were better than his.”

“I must’ve done something wrong.”

Almost none of that is true. Most sit decisions are strategic, logistical, or developmental. They’re made with the team in mind, not against any individual. The fact that I’m rotating you doesn’t mean I’m sending a message. It usually just means the context of this particular boss, on this particular week, is pointed elsewhere.

What I’ll always try to do is be direct about it and give you enough context to understand the call. Not a lengthy justification, but enough to keep you from guessing. If you’re sitting because of comp, I’ll tell you it’s comp. If it’s loot, I’ll say that. Vague non-answers are where resentment grows.

Raid Leaders Get It Wrong Too

This goes both ways. I’d be doing you a disservice if I framed every sit decision as perfectly calculated and correct, because that’s not always true.

Sometimes the wrong person starts. Sometimes I overvalue a class that ends up not mattering as much as I thought it would. Sometimes I build a comp around what the top guilds were running in Warcraft Logs during the first week of the tier, only for Blizzard to patch the encounter and change the math entirely. The Paladins fight is a good example since early on, the dispel quantity was high enough that two Mistweaver Monks felt close to mandatory. Then the nerf hit, the number of dispels dropped significantly, and suddenly you only needed one. Any comp decisions made around that original requirement had to be revisited.

That’s just the reality of a live game. Bosses change. Tuning shifts. What was a hard requirement in week two can become a preference by week four. When that happens, I try to catch it and adjust, but I don’t always catch it immediately, and sometimes players pay the price for a call that looked right at the time and turned out to be wrong.

If you genuinely think a sit decision was a mistake, I’d rather you say something directly than let it fester. I’m not infallible, and I don’t expect to be treated like I am. What I ask is that you bring it to me directly, as opposed to working its way through half the guild before it reaches my ears.

Nobody’s Happy Every Week, and That’s Fine

Every week I’m balancing progression needs, composition, loot, fairness, development, attendance realities, and morale. Sometimes all at the same time, all pulling in slightly different directions. There is no decision that satisfies all of them simultaneously.

If everyone in the raid is mildly annoyed from time to time, that’s honestly a decent sign. It means the rotations are being spread around honestly instead of a permanent hierarchy forming at the bottom.

Being sat sucks. Making the call usually isn’t great either. But if it gives the team a better chance on this boss, or keeps someone engaged who would otherwise start checking out, or gets a trial the reps they need to become a real contributor — it’s the right call, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

One week is not the whole tier. There’ll always be opportunities to shine.

The Hidden Raid Problem No One Talks About: Instant Defensiveness

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Here I am in the middle of a week, watching Max undergo another reclear before the Diablo 4 expansion was slated to launch. He gets to a part where he’s watching another guild go through their kill of Midnight Falls. But take a listen and watch what happens.

This raid just cleared the entire tier and secured their CE.

Instead of celebrating, players immediately started defending themselves about misplays or other errors.

“Yeah I died there because…”
“That wasn’t my fault…”
“I got screwed by…”

No one really paused to acknowledge the kill. That positive moment just seemed to dissipate and fade out.

The raid went straight into deflection. If you’re seeing this in your raid, it’s not just a one-off behavior. It’s now a team-wide cultural issue.

The Instinct to Defend

This type of behaviour doesn’t come out of nowhere. Players don’t wake up one day and decide to deflect responsibility after a kill. It usually builds up over time for a variety of reasons:

  • Fear of being called out: No one likes to be criticized in front of everyone else.
  • Fear of losing a raid spot: No one wants to get permanently benched.
  • Past experiences with harsh criticism: We’re talking harsh, toxic environments, making the game generally unfun.
  • A culture where mistakes are punished instead of being learned from: This can range from being made fun of or teased mercilessly.

So what happens?

Players get conditioned to protect themselves first by justifying what happened or blaming things beyond their control. It happens even in moments where it doesn’t matter anymore (like killing the final boss).

Why This Is a Bigger Problem Than It Looks

At first glance, it might seem harmless. Who cares if someone explains why they died after a kill? We need to take a step back though and re-examine this.

If your team feel the need to immediately justify themselves, it means:

  • They don’t feel safe making mistakes
  • They assume blame is coming
  • They prioritize self-preservation over team success
  • They’re mentally stuck in “defense mode” instead of “growth mode”

That has consequences. Teams that operate like this will end with one (or all) of the following:

  • They learn slower
  • They communicate worse
  • They take feedback personally
  • They spend more time assigning blame than solving problems

You can’t build a high-performing raid like that, and you end up with a raid team that’s stuck in early or mid mythic without the tools needed to progress past that.

The Missed Opportunity After a Kill

Post-kill moments are important.

They’re when you:

  • Reinforce good habits. Highlight positive game play from people and recognize them when they’re correctly done.
  • Identify real learning points. Show where people “got it” and spread it to the rest of the team.
  • Celebrate progress. The team got a new best (even if it’s a new phase or a lower percentage).
  • Reset the team mentally. From despair to excitement.

If your raid immediately turns into a courtroom, you lose all of that.

Instead of:

“Nice job, clean that up the adds next pull, and we can see more.”

You get:

“Let me explain why that wasn’t my fault.”

Now you’ve wasted everyone’s time.

Freedom to Fail Is a Competitive Advantage

One of the things Max mentioned is that they had to actively correct this behaviour early in their guild’s history.

They made it clear:

  • It’s okay to die
  • It’s okay to mess up
  • Not every mistake needs a full breakdown
  • If it’s not new or useful, move on

That’s the key. Say it with me!

Not every mistake deserves airtime.

If the team already understands the mechanic and what went wrong, rehashing it doesn’t help. It just slows you down and creates tension. High-end teams don’t obsess over every individual mistake. They focus on patterns and meaningful improvements. I don’t know how long your team raids for, but both of mine only go for six hours a week.

What Your Team Should Actually Be Doing Instead

After a kill, your raid should look more like this:

  • Quick acknowledgment of the kill
  • Identify one or two real issues if needed (or flag it for next week)
  • Move on

That’s it.

Not every death needs a speech, and not every mistake needs a defence.

If it’s something new, sure, call it out and learn from it. Absolutely make it a learning lesson for everyone, especially if someone died in a completely new way or missed a mechanic that’s crucial the first time. Go over it once, and talk about it as a team so they know what to expect and how to handle it if it ultimately does happen again. Certain things are worth drilling and repeating until the team gets it, but that doesn’t apply to all mistakes.

If it is already understood, it is wasting precious raid time.

How to Fix It in Your Own Raid

If you’re seeing this behaviour, it needs to be addressed directly.

1. Set the Expectation

Tell your team clearly:

  • You don’t need to defend every mistake
  • Not every death needs an explanation
  • Focus on team improvement, not individual justification

2. Change What You Reinforce

If you constantly call out individuals harshly, players will naturally start defending themselves.

Instead:

  • Focus on solutions
  • Keep feedback concise
  • Avoid turning every mistake into a lecture

Actually, call out the positives. Talk about what you liked. Name players individually who did something good (even if it’s during the pull), and recognize their effort or moves.

3. Protect the Post-Kill Moment

Don’t let it spiral.

If someone starts going into a long defense after a kill, cut ’em off.

“Doesn’t matter. Boss is dead. We’ll clean it up next time.”

We use Warcraft Recorder to capture our game play. It’s not something that needs to be immediately reviewed and it can be looked at after the raid is over. Celebrate the wins, since that’s the tone you want.

4. Normalize Mistakes

Make it clear that mistakes are expected and understood especially in progression. If players feel like every error is being judged, they’ll always be on edge. The team needs to relax and play loosely when starting out.

And that leads right back to defensive behavior.

If your team kills a boss and the first reaction is panic and justification instead of celebration, something is off. That doesn’t mean your players are bad. It means that the raid culture needs adjustment. The best teams aren’t the ones that never make mistakes. They’re the ones that don’t waste time pretending they didn’t.

I’m fortunate enough that this hasn’t happened in my raids yet. But if my team starts pre-emptively defending themselves before I ask questions, I’ve got my lecture in the back pocket ready to come out. If I were to put money on it, I expect it’d be one of my healers trying to present themselves in a positive light but addressing their own shortcomings right away. My first response is going to be, “I didn’t ask! Simmer down! You goofed, that’s okay, this isn’t a deposition!”

How to Become a Top 10 Two-Night Guild

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I received a question during a recent trial interview.

“Hypothetically, if you wanted to grow the team and convert it into a top 10 two-night guild, what are some of the steps you would take? What does that road map look like?”

It’s a great question, and it caught me a little off guard. But here’s my honest answer:
If I really wanted to push this team into a top-10 two-night team, it would require commitment across the board. Not just from the players, but from me as the raid leader as well.

Here’s what that roadmap might actually look like.

Define the Goal with Precision

We’re not just saying “get better” or “rank higher.”
A top 10 two-night guild is already achieving Cutting Edge. They’re likely killing the final boss around top 150–200 worldwide. On a limited schedule, that’s a tall order.

This means defining success like:

  • CE within the first 6–8 weeks of a tier
  • No more than 1 sub-2% wipe per boss
  • Kill bosses within 50–70 pulls, not 120+
  • Finish ahead of reset-based nerfs

It’s an intense pace which brings me to the next point.

Raise the Floor, Not Just the Ceiling

You can’t build an elite team on the backs of just your best players. You do it by raising the minimum performance bar across the board. That means:

  • Execution mistakes are rare, not routine
  • Players are expected to own mechanics independently
  • Logs are reviewed weekly for accountability
  • Players can’t afford to fall behind on progression systems, M+ gearing, or knowledge

Every player has to be operating at or near the same wavelength. That’s hard to achieve if only a few are pulling the team forward.

Optimize the Roster

You need a roster of players who:

  • Are consistent, hungry, and coachable
  • Don’t need their hands held on every mechanic (just the really critical ones)
  • Can take constructive feedback and self-review
  • Bring value beyond damage (interrupts, CDs, utility)

That means being ruthless with cuts. Players who aren’t improving or matching the pace can’t stay, no matter how nice they are or how long they’ve been on the team.

More Support at the Top

Right now, leadership is basically just me and one other person.
If I want to scale us up, I need more lieutenants — experienced players who can:

  • Take ownership of healing or tank assignments
  • Do log reviews post-raid
  • Help with group compositions (left/right group splits, interrupts, cooldowns, and raid planning)

But it’s not just about adding people — it’s about clearly defining their roles. I can’t just say “I need help,” I need to say what I need help with and what authority they’ll have.

Build Systems, Not Just Raid Plans

At the top end, strategy alone doesn’t win bosses — systems do:

  • A repeatable planning template for each encounter
  • Pre-assigned cooldowns, debuffs, interrupts
  • Well-structured review and feedback loops
  • Roster depth to rotate people in without missing a beat

Most teams plan the fight.

The best teams plan the tier.

Time Management and Off-Night Investment

With only 6 hours of raid a week, everything around those hours matters more:

  • M+ for gear catch-up and trinkets
  • PTR testing or log analysis before a new fight
  • Video review of what’s coming up (for their own class)
  • Personal research or even custom WA tracking

This doesn’t mean mandatory off-nights — but if 5–6 people are doing nothing outside of raid, we fall behind.

Final Thoughts

I’m not chasing top 10 two-night status right now — but if I were, these are the first things I’d do. Death Jesters is already one of the top two night teams in the world (and we mean actual two night, none of this overtime at the start of the tier crap).

A roster of skilled players will only take you so far. You need discipline, structure, and a team culture that prioritizes growth, learning, and personal responsibility. It’s a climb, not a leap. That means making tough calls and sacrifices along the way.

But the roadmap exists. It’s just a matter of deciding whether the destination is worth the cost.

A Tale of Tanking Turmoil

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There’s something different about losing a tank, especially during progression.

DPS come and go. Healers rotate in and out. But when a tank leaves, it shakes the foundation of a raid team. And recently, both of my teams lost that critical foundation.

The Silent Goodbye in Death Jesters

Let’s start with Death Jesters. One of our longtime tanks, someone who anchored our lineup from Season 1 of this expansion all the way through to now, decided to step down.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had hinted a few weeks prior that the skill gap in the team was starting to outpace him. We had already started looking for possible replacements, just in case. Then we finally killed Mythic Soul Hunters, pushing us to 6/8 Mythic, and shortly after that… he was gone.

He posted a long goodbye message in Discord and left. While there was an initial conversation about a potential role swap, it seemed like that was rescinded. No sticking around to contribute in a different way. Just… out.

I get it. Tanking at this level is pressure. Every mistake is magnified. Every movement matters. But it still sucked to see him peace out like that, especially after how far we’d come together.

The Overnight Exit in Last Call

Meanwhile, over in Last Call, things were just as messy, but for different reasons.

One of our tanks was frustrated. Frustrated with our DPS, frustrated with the wipe rate, frustrated with what he saw as underperformance across the board. That frustration boiled over in our post-raid discussion.

I wasn’t there for it. But from what I heard, another raid leader got into it with him and dropped something to the effect of, “If you don’t like it, you’re free to leave.”

That is not how I would’ve handled it. Not at all. I was in the middle of making something to eat because I don’t eat during raid.

I would’ve tried to de-escalate. Maybe said something like, “If you’re this upset, let’s take a week and transition you out properly. I’ll help you find a team that’s a better fit.” Instead, by the next morning, he was gone. No message. Just silence.

He had sent me logs from Loom’ithar trying to justify his performance, like being 5th overall on DPS, despite being a tank. But it didn’t mean much when our raid wasn’t alive entering that phase. Ranking doesn’t matter when over half your team is dead.

And yeah, I didn’t Vantus the boss that week. Maybe that would’ve helped us kill it earlier. Maybe not. But we did kill it the next week. And now we’re working on Fractillus.

In any case, losing him left a big hole, and the timing was awful.

Why Tank Losses Cut Deeper

Tanks aren’t just bodies. They’re the backbone.

There are only two of them in a raid. They work closely together, and that chemistry takes time to build. Good tanks anticipate each other’s movements. They coordinate cooldowns. They position for the raid. They set the tone of how the pull is going to go.

When you lose a tank, you’re not just filling a role. You’re rebuilding synergy.

And it’s not like replacing a DPS where you can post a recruiting message and get 10 responses. Quality tanks at the Cutting Edge level are rare. And they know it.

What To Do When a Tank Leaves

It sucks. But it’s not the end of the world. Here’s how I’m handling it now, and what I’d recommend:

  • Always be scouting. Even when your roster is full, keep feelers out. You never know when you’ll need someone.
  • Have early conversations. If someone seems off or expresses doubts, talk to them. Don’t let it fester.
  • De-escalate instead of confront. Tensions happen. But leadership means diffusing, not igniting.
  • Offer transitions, not ultimatums. “Let’s find a better fit” works better than “Then leave.”
  • Cross-train players. Having a flex DPS who can tank in emergencies is worth its weight in gold.

Looking Ahead

In Death Jesters, we managed to have a replacement lined up. A tank from our Shadowlands era was ready to step in.

In Last Call, we’re temporarily playing with a tank from our Liberation of Undermine run. He’s stepping in for the next few weeks, but he’ll be out of the country after that. I did have a few promising tank applications, and we’ve selected one. The guy raids on a weekday team that’s roughly on the same level of progression as we are, so he’ll have twice the amount of reps.

Progression slows without a stable tank lineup, but we’ve been able to find some improvements in that tank spot right now.

Closing Thoughts

People come and go in this game. That’s just the nature of it. But tanks?

Tanks are different.

They’re the heartbeat of your raid. And when one walks away (whether it’s due to burnout, frustration, or just needing a change) you feel it.

If you’re a raid leader reading this, my advice is simple: build a deep bench, check in often, and never assume silence means everything’s fine.

Got to be ready if a key personnel changes their mind or life comes crashing down and affects availability.

Trading Time for Gear: Why Our Raid Is Pivoting to Heroic Progression

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In both Death Jesters and Last Call, we’ve been progressing through Normal and Heroic Manaforge Omega since the start of the season, and we’re officially hitting that crossroad every raid team eventually reaches: Do we keep farming Normal for loot? Or pivot fully into Heroic, even if it means some players are missing pieces?

In DJs, we’re still continuing to certain normal bosses (not a full clear). If we really wanted to, all of normal can get cleaned out in 45 minutes. We actually need that gear to help us on Mythic Forgeweaver and onwards.

In Last Call, the answer is crystal: Time matters more to us than gear. We’re not at the point where our gear is impeding our progress.

Making the Shift

It’s tempting to keep clearing Normal every week just to get that one trinket, that one weapon, or the last few tier pieces. In Last Call, we only raid six hours per week. Our biggest bottleneck right now isn’t item level. Our bottleneck is time spent seeing, pulling, and learning bosses.

While other teams can double-dip and run full clears across multiple nights, we don’t have that luxury. Every hour we spend reclearing Normal is an hour we’re not progressing on Heroic, or practicing mechanics that we’ll eventually need to execute cleanly on Mythic.

We benefit more as a team by:

  • Pulling Heroic bosses more often
  • Learning encounter pacing and clean transitions
  • Practicing cooldown timing, and both positioning and movement consistency
  • Giving raiders more time to develop confidence and reps

Addressing the Gear Gap

It’s true that some raiders still have gaps in their gear like a missing tier piece, a low-stat trinket, a weaker weapon. But we’re not losing fights due to gear. We’re losing because of missed interrupts, poor positioning, or phase transitions that could be smoother with more reps. Sometimes we applied cooldowns in the wrong area when we needed them in some other stage of an encounter.

There are other gearing methods:

  • Mythic+ is fully available between crests, vault rewards, and hero track gear upgrades.
  • Players can run Normal in pugs or our open community runs if they still need specific pieces.
  • Crafted gear and sparks are already in play.
  • Champion-level gear can now be upgraded fairly easily via dungeons and crest farming.

The raid doesn’t need to carry this load. Each raider can take charge of their own gearing path while the team focuses on progression.

Informing the Team

I know that not everyone’s going to agree with the approach. Some players will feel left behind if they’re still missing key gear. It’s important to frame this as a strategic team decision, not a punishment.

Here’s how we’re approaching it:

  • Clear communication ahead of time — not the day of the raid. This gives everyone the time to run it on their own.
  • Outline the why: More reps lead to more kills. We’re no longer wiping to damage.

Some players will be frustrated. That’s okay. But the path forward needs to be clear, and the longer we delay that pivot, the longer it’ll take to reach our full potential.

A Final Reflection

In the last Notebook post, I mentioned that Last Call reached Phase 3 on Dimensius several times. We didn’t kill it because we lacked gear. We just needed a little more time.

That’s what this is all about! I have to maximize the time we have to give ourselves the best possible shot. We’re trying to hit Cutting Edge, and that takes reps, not just gear.

If there’s still certain pieces that are needed, it’s time to pray or make a generous donation to the vault gods!