Former Kentucky wide receiver Dane Key, one of the top offensive players in the transfer portal, announced on social media Tuesday that he will transfer to Nebraska. Key posted a photo of himself in a Nebraska uniform wearing the No. 6 he wore at Kentucky. The simple post contained the letters "GBR," short for "Go Big Red," with an emoji heart. Key led Kentucky this past season with 47 receptions for 715 yards and two touchdowns in 12 games as the Wildcats finished 4-8. In three seasons, the 6-foot-3, 210-pounder has 126 receptions for 1,870 yards and 14 TDs in 38 games (35 starts). Key has one season of eligibility remaining after he was a four-star recruit in the class of 2022. --Field Level MediaCHICAGO — If the life and times of Chicago Alderman Daniel Solis a decade ago were pitched as the plot of a daytime soap opera, it might be rejected as too fantastical. Sexual trysts at massage parlors, procuring erectile dysfunction pills from friends, an affair with his Chinese translator, a bag of cash handed over at a hotel in Beijing, a breakup with his wife, and near financial ruin — all playing out over a period of several years when Solis was chair of the City Council’s powerful Zoning Committee. Solis’ complicated back story began to emerge Monday in the corruption trial of former House Speaker Michael Madigan, where Solis, who agreed to become an FBI mole in 2016 after being confronted with some of the salacious details, is the prosecution’s key witness. So far, Solis has walked the jury through many of the allegations contained in a bombshell FBI search warrant affidavit that was inadvertently made public in 2019, including Solis’ involvement with a number of Chicago political power players. Among them: Solis’ sister, Democratic political consultant Patti Solis Doyle, who he said offered to split a $100,000 payment with him from the developer of the Nobu Hotel, who needed Solis’ help with zoning, according to Solis’ testimony. “She said she could split it with me,” Solis said. “I told her I couldn’t do it. It would be illegal.” Solis testified he also received $200,000 for referring his sister to another friend, Brian Hynes, who wanted her on board with his company Vendor Assistance Program, which made tens of millions of dollars buying up unpaid bills from the state and then collecting the late fees. Solis also testified about other friends, such as Juan Gaytan, the influential head of Monterrey Security, showering him with perks like flights and hotels in Las Vegas and tickets to Bulls and Bears games that Solis never declared on any ethics reports. “I made a mistake,” Solis said when asked why he accepted the favors. “I thought they were my friends and I was wrong.” Solis, 71, the former 25th Ward alderman, took the witness stand late last week to begin what will be a fascinating dive into one of the biggest public corruption cases in Chicago’s sordid history. His testimony — which could stretch well into December — will include clandestine video recordings Solis made in face-to-face meetings with Madigan, where the longtime House leader and head of the state Democratic Party allegedly used his official influence to shake down developers for business for his private tax appeal law firm. When a prosecution witness has a checkered past like Solis, prosecutors frequently ask about the alleged wrongdoing early in their testimony. “Fronting” the information strategically aims to take the sting out of it, rather than let defense attorneys seize on it during cross-examination. But rarely does a witness come with quite so much baggage. Solis testified that Roberto Caldero, a college buddy of his who became a lobbyist and consultant, would call Solis for help when his clients had problems with the city’s red tape. At the same time, Caldero connected Solis with free tabs of Viagra and – to the obvious amusement of at least one juror – erotic massages. “Why didn’t you just get a prescription?” Assistant U.S. Attorney Diane MacArthur asked. “It was more convenient and quicker than contacting my doctor,” Solis said. “Why was it, do you think, Mr. Caldero was willing to do those things for you?” MacArthur asked. “He wanted to influence me in his requests,” Solis said. The back-scratching continued, he said: Solis got a loan from a bank that needed help with expressway signage; his son’s graduation party was hosted and paid for by developer Fred Latsko; he got a six-figure off-the-books loan from a businessman who wanted Solis’s help connecting him with Emanuel. But the most dramatic revelations came from Solis’s testimony about his time in China. Solis visited China and Taiwan multiple times from 2005 to 2013, mostly in his capacity as a public official, to understand the 2008 Olympic Games’ effect on Beijing when Chicago was considering its Olympic bid, for example, or to learn about Chinese culture in order to better support Chinatown, Solis said. Shortly after a trip in 2009, Solis – who was married – began an affair with his translator, Bing Tie. He said Tie introduced him to developer Lumeng Li, who was interested in projects in Chinatown. Tie and Solis accompanied Li on a tour of his properties in different Chinese cities. At one point, he was in a Shanghai hotel room with Tie and Li. On the bed, Solis saw a briefcase full of Chinese cash, he said. It was $10,000, Solis said based on what Tie told him. “I think (Li) was giving it to me to influence me in the work he was trying to do in the States,” Solis testified. Tie took the suitcase off the bed and used the money to buy furniture for the condo Solis was renting from her, he testified. “She gave me her receipts for everything,” he said. Solis’s marriage began to fall apart in 2010 after his wife learned of his affair, Solis testified. They were separated for a few years, during which time Solis paid his wife’s rent and his son’s private school tuition as well as his own expenses, Solis testified. The house he and his wife shared had been foreclosed on, putting his credit in the gutter, he said. By 2013 he was getting calls from bill collectors, one of whom he lied to and said he was out of a job, he testified. “I was exasperated,” he said. “I think I was about to go into a meeting.” Madigan, 82, of Chicago, who served for decades as speaker of the Illinois House before stepping down in 2021, faces racketeering charges alleging he ran his state and political operations like a criminal enterprise. He is charged alongside Michael McClain, 77, a former ComEd contract lobbyist from downstate Quincy, who for years was one of Madigan’s closest confidants. Both men have pleaded not guilty and denied wrongdoing. Solis’ testimony is the culmination of a saga that began nearly eight and a half years ago, when FBI agents confronted him at his home in June 2016 and showed him evidence they’d gathered of his own misdeeds. The feds had been prepared that day to raid Solis’ City Hall offices. Instead, he flipped, offering what prosecutors have described as “singular” cooperation that helped bring down not only Madigan, but another Chicago political giant in former Alderman Edward M. Burke. Lawyers for Madigan and McClain, meanwhile, will have plenty of ammunition to bring to what is expected to be a lengthy and grueling cross-examination. Unlike in last year’s trial of Burke, in which Solis was called as a defense witness, he’ll be subjected to a much broader line of questioning this time around, with the defense probing not only Solis’ unprecedented deferred-prosecution deal, but also episodes from the FBI’s investigation into his own misdeeds that could prove personally embarrassing. In his opening statement to the jury last month, Madigan attorney Tom Breen painted Solis as a “BS-er” with “a decrepit personal and professional life,” someone who lied to cut a sweetheart deal with the feds that not only will keep him out of prison, but also help him maintain a fat city pension. Earlier Monday, jurors got their first look at a secretly recorded video of the then-powerful House speaker soliciting business for his law firm from the developer of a Chinatown hotel project. “We’re not looking for a quick killing here,” Madigan said near the end of the August 2014 meeting, which was recorded on a hidden camera by developer See Wong, who was cooperating with the FBI. “We’re interested in a long term relationship.” Before the video was played, Solis testified he’d arranged the meeting at Madigan’s request. At the time, Solis was not cooperating. In fact, the meeting took place nearly two years before the FBI confronted him with evidence of his own wrongdoing, leading to Solis’ decision to go undercover himself. The charges against Madigan do not allege anything illegal occurred during the 2014 meeting. But a state-owned parcel of land discussed by Madigan and the developers would later become a key focus of prosecutors, who allege Madigan used it as a way to squeeze the developer for business. In the video, which was taken more than a decade ago, a much younger looking Madigan came into the office carrying a bottle of water and shook Wong’s hand. Also in the room was Vincent “Bud” Getzendanner, Madigan’s law partner. The developer, Kin Chong, who spoke only Chinese, was mainly off screen. Madigan’s face appeared intermittently as he made small talk about Chicago’s Chinatown and how it compared to others on the West Coast. After a few minutes, Solis came in with two assistants and some coffees. They then got down to brass tacks, with Madigan explaining his firm and what they do. “We do quite a few hotels and, uh, we have a little different approach to representation on hotels than the other law firms that do the work,” Madigan said. “And, and Bud can explain background, but it does make a difference in terms of the results that you get from the assessor.” After Madigan’s partner gave a lengthy spiel about the firm’s approach to reducing property taxes, talk turned to a the Chinatown parking lot along the Red Line on Wentworth Avenue. Solis told the jury he was not expecting the parking lot to come up. In the recording, Solis jumped in and explained that the parking lot was part of a corridor of land once owned by Tony Rezko — the longtime influence peddler who was convicted of corruption as part of Operation Board Games, the federal investigation that took down Gov. Rod Blagojevich. “Oh yeah,” Madigan said when Solis brought up Rezko. After Wong spreads a map on the table, Madigan appeared to study it. “Is this owned by the state?” the speaker asked at one point. “The parking lot? Yes,” Solis said. “What, what about that vacant land?” Madigan asked. “This is east of the CTA. This is Clark Street.” The conversation then turned back to the hotel project, which was a proposed Best Western with about 60 rooms. After a lot of talk about how much Madigan’s firm might save them in taxes, Solis jumped in again. “There is no better firm than this firm in terms of doing real estate taxes in the state,” Solis said. “I think that’s not only my opinion, it’s across (the board).” After making his comment about a “quick killing,” Madigan also extolled the virtues of his firm. “And in terms of the quality of representation in terms of this law firm we don’t take a second seat to anybody,” he said. As the meeting broke up, Wong said the developer wanted to take a picture with the speaker. The video showed Madigan standing together with the others on the screen of Wong’s cell phone as he took the photo. After Madigan left, Wong and Solis walked to the elevators of the Madigan & Getzendanner offices on North LaSalle Street. Wong told the alderman that Chong would “love to give the business to Mr. Speaker” but the zoning change was critical. “If he works with the speaker, he will get anything he needs for that hotel,” Solis said. “And he’s gonna benefit from being with the Speaker.” Before they parted, Solis told Wong, “I like your shoes.” After the video concluded, Solis testified that the zoning change requested by the developers passed his committee. But the Best Western ever never built, he said. ©2024 Chicago Tribune. Visit at chicagotribune.com . Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.
Dana Hull | (TNS) Bloomberg News Jared Birchall, Elon Musk’s money manager and the head of his family office, is listed as the chief executive officer. Jehn Balajadia, a longtime Musk aide who has worked at SpaceX and the Boring Co., is named as an official contact. Related Articles National Politics | Trump’s picks for top health jobs not just team of rivals but ‘team of opponents’ National Politics | Biden will decide on US Steel acquisition after influential panel fails to reach consensus National Politics | Biden vetoes once-bipartisan effort to add 66 federal judgeships, citing ‘hurried’ House action National Politics | A history of the Panama Canal — and why Trump can’t take it back on his own National Politics | President-elect Trump wants to again rename North America’s tallest peak But they’re not connected to Musk’s new technology venture, or the political operation that’s endeared him to Donald Trump. Instead, they’re tied to the billionaire’s new Montessori school outside Bastrop, Texas, called Ad Astra, according to documents filed with state authorities and obtained via a Texas Public Information Act request. The world’s richest person oversees an overlapping empire of six companies — or seven, if you include his political action committee. Alongside rockets, electric cars, brain implants, social media and the next Trump administration, he is increasingly focused on education, spanning preschool to college. One part of his endeavor was revealed last year, when Bloomberg News reported that his foundation had set aside roughly $100 million to create a technology-focused primary and secondary school in Austin, with eventual plans for a university. An additional $137 million in cash and stock was allotted last year, according to the most recent tax filing for the Musk Foundation. Ad Astra is closer to fruition. The state documents show Texas authorities issued an initial permit last month, clearing the way for the center to operate with as many as 21 pupils. Ad Astra’s website says it’s “currently open to all children ages 3 to 9.” The school’s account on X includes job postings for an assistant teacher for preschool and kindergarten and an assistant teacher for students ages 6 to 9. To run the school, Ad Astra is partnering with a company that has experience with billionaires: Xplor Education, which developed Hala Kahiki Montessori school in Lanai, Hawaii, the island 98% owned by Oracle Corp. founder Larry Ellison. Ad Astra sits on a highway outside Bastrop, a bedroom community about 30 miles from Austin and part of a region that’s home to several of Musk’s businesses. On a visit during a recent weekday morning, there was a single Toyota Prius in the parking lot and no one answered the door at the white building with a gray metal roof. The school’s main entrance was blocked by a gate, and there was no sign of any children on the grounds. But what information there is about Ad Astra makes it sound like a fairly typical, if high-end, Montessori preschool. The proposed schedule includes “thematic, STEM-based activities and projects” as well as outdoor play and nap time. A sample snack calendar features carrots and hummus. While Birchall’s and Balajadia’s names appear in the application, it isn’t clear that they’ll have substantive roles at the school once it’s operational. Musk, Birchall and Balajadia didn’t respond to emailed questions. A phone call and email to the school went unanswered. Access to high quality, affordable childcare is a huge issue for working parents across the country, and tends to be an especially vexing problem in rural areas like Bastrop. Many families live in “childcare deserts” where there is either not a facility or there isn’t an available slot. Opening Ad Astra gives Musk a chance to showcase his vision for education, and his support for the hands-on learning and problem solving that are a hallmark of his industrial companies. His public comments about learning frequently overlap with cultural concerns popular among conservatives and the Make America Great Again crowd, often focusing on what he sees as young minds being indoctrinated by teachers spewing left-wing propaganda. He has railed against diversity, equity and inclusion efforts, and in August posted that “a lot of schools are teaching white boys to hate themselves.” Musk’s educational interests dovetail with his new role as Trump’s “first buddy.” The billionaire has pitched a role for himself that he — and now the incoming Trump administration — call “DOGE,” or the Department of Government Efficiency. Though it’s not an actual department, DOGE now posts on X, the social media platform that Musk owns. “The Department of Education spent over $1 billion promoting DEI in America’s schools,” the account posted Dec. 12. Back in Texas, Bastrop is quickly becoming a key Musk point of interest. The Boring Co., his tunneling venture, is based in an unincorporated area there. Across the road, SpaceX produces Starlink satellites at a 500,000-square-foot (46,000-square-meter) facility. Nearby, X is constructing a building for trust and safety workers. Musk employees, as well as the general public, can grab snacks at the Boring Bodega, a convenience store housed within Musk’s Hyperloop Plaza, which also contains a bar, candy shop and hair salon. Ad Astra is just a five-minute drive away. It seems to have been designed with the children of Musk’s employees — if not Musk’s own offspring — in mind. Musk has fathered at least 12 children, six of them in the last five years. “Ad Astra’s mission is to foster curiosity, creativity, and critical thinking in the next generation of problem solvers and builders,” reads the school’s website. A job posting on the website of the Montessori Institute of North Texas says “While their parents support the breakthroughs that expand the realm of human possibility, their children will grow into the next generation of innovators in a way that only authentic Montessori can provide.” The school has hired an executive director, according to documents Bloomberg obtained from Texas Health and Human Services. Ad Astra is located on 40 acres of land, according to the documents, which said a 4,000-square-foot house would be remodeled for the preschool. It isn’t uncommon for entrepreneurs to take an interest in education, according to Bill Gormley, a professor emeritus at the McCourt School of Public Policy at Georgetown University who studies early childhood education. Charles Butt, the chairman of the Texas-based H-E-B grocery chain, has made public education a focus of his philanthropy. Along with other business and community leaders, Butt founded “Raise Your Hand Texas,” which advocates on school funding, teacher workforce and retention issues and fully funding pre-kindergarten. “Musk is not the only entrepreneur to recognize the value of preschool for Texas workers,” Gormley said. “A lot of politicians and business people get enthusiastic about education in general — and preschool in particular — because they salivate at the prospect of a better workforce.” Musk spent much of October actively campaigning for Trump’s presidential effort, becoming the most prolific donor of the election cycle. He poured at least $274 million into political groups in 2024, including $238 million to America PAC, the political action committee he founded. While the vast majority of money raised by America PAC came from Musk himself, it also had support from other donors. Betsy DeVos, who served as education secretary in Trump’s first term, donated $250,000, federal filings show. The Department of Education is already in the new administration’s cross hairs. Trump campaigned on the idea of disbanding the department and dismantling diversity initiatives, and he has also taken aim at transgender rights. “Rather than indoctrinating young people with inappropriate racial, sexual, and political material, which is what we’re doing now, our schools must be totally refocused to prepare our children to succeed in the world of work,” Trump wrote in Agenda 47, his campaign platform. Musk has three children with the musician Grimes and three with Shivon Zilis, who in the past was actively involved at Neuralink, his brain machine interface company. All are under the age of five. Musk took X, his son with Grimes, with him on a recent trip to Capitol Hill. After his visit, he shared a graphic that showed the growth of administrators in America’s public schools since 2000. Musk is a fan of hands-on education. During a Tesla earnings call in 2018, he talked about the need for more electricians as the electric-car maker scaled up the energy side of its business. On the Joe Rogan podcast in 2020, Musk said that “too many smart people go into finance and law.” “I have a lot of respect for people who work with their hands and we need electricians and plumbers and carpenters,” Musk said while campaigning for Trump in Pennsylvania in October. “That’s a lot more important than having incremental political science majors.” Ad Astra’s website says the cost of tuition will be initially subsidized, but in future years “tuition will be in line with local private schools that include an extended day program.” “I do think we need significant reform in education,” Musk said at a separate Trump campaign event. “The priority should be to teach kids skills that they will find useful later in life, and to leave any sort of social propaganda out of the classroom.” With assistance from Sophie Alexander and Kara Carlson. ©2024 Bloomberg News. Visit at bloomberg.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.One of Baltimore’s most prominent families was thrust into the spotlight this week, when a son of the clan, Luigi Mangione , was arrested by Pennsylvania police and charged in the Dec. 4 fatal shooting of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson . Locally active in philanthropy, both via individual donations and through the Mangione Family Foundation, the Mangiones gave millions to Baltimore’s various institutions and nonprofits, including more than $1 million to the Greater Baltimore Medical Center and more to the American Citizens for Italian Matters, Baltimore Opera Company and others. Loyola University, which counts Mangione alumni among their ranks, has an aquatic center named after the family, and GBMC previously had a high-risk obstetrics unit, since closed, that bore their name. Their story is a uniquely American one: The Mangiones went from deep poverty to massive wealth in just three generations, with one cousin, Nino Mangione, now a Republican member of the Maryland House of Delegates. Despite an eventually deep portfolio of development properties and government contracting for 20 years, the family patriarch, Nicholas Mangione Sr. , said he still faced prejudice for his background when he attempted to buy land to build the Turf Valley Golf and Country Club, now the Turf Valley Resort, in Ellicott City. “Tongues started wagging,” Mangione told The Baltimore Sun in 1995. “People [were] wondering where an unknown Italian could get the money for a $5 million project. In those days, there were no Italians in real visible positions [in Howard County].” Mangione said the implication was that he must have backing from the mob, so he countered sharply. “People thought I needed money from the Mafia to buy this place. They asked me what family I belonged to,” he said. “I told them, ‘I belong to the Mangione family. The Mangione family of Baltimore County.’” The family is now defending its name again. On Monday, members released a statement on social media expressing dismay at Luigi Mangione’s arrest, saying they were stunned by the news. “We only know what we have read in the media. Our family is shocked and devastated by Luigi’s arrest. We offer our prayers to the family of Brian Thompson and we ask people to pray for all involved,” the family wrote . “We are devastated by this news.” The family did not respond to a request for comment via a family attorney or their foundation. How they went from the Depression-era streets of the city’s Little Italy to its philanthropic elite is straight out of a Horatio Alger novel. Nicholas Sr. was born in Baltimore’s Little Italy, and spent his first eight years in a one-room apartment with an outdoor privy, according to a 2008 Sun article. He earlier told The Sun his Italian immigrant father, Louis, could neither read nor write, and worked in the city water department until he died of pneumonia. Today, the Mangione family is a sprawling one, with a business empire to match: Nicholas Sr., made the beginning of the family’s fortunes in the post-World War II years as a bricklayer and contractor . He built up his business holdings throughout the following decades, with his wife, Mary , growing their family to include five sons, five daughters, and 37 grandchildren, including Luigi. The family’s holdings range from construction to commercial real estate to local radio station WCBM-AM and a majority stake in Lorien Health Services, which operates multiple assisted living facilities in Maryland. Aside from the Turf Valley Resort, with its 10,000-square-foot ballroom, 220-room hotel, and 85-seat amphitheater, the Mangiones also own the Hayfields Country Club in Cockeysville and a slew of companies registered in Maryland . Its family foundation had net assets of $4.4M as of its 2022 tax filing , the most recent on record. The Mangione Family Foundation’s stated focus is supporting, “Organizations for any of the following purposes: religious, educational, charitable, scientific, literary, testing for public safety, fostering national or international amateur sports competition (as long as it doesn’t provide athletic facilities or equipment), or the prevention of cruelty to children or animals.” Politically, the Mangiones have been active across the aisle. Luigi Mangione’s parents, Louis and Kathleen Mangione donated $35,935 to state and local politicians from 2005 through 2023, according to data from the State Board of Elections. Half went to Nino Mangione ’s campaign account for his state delegate races from 2018 through 2023. Other donations went to Howard County executives Calvin Ball and Ken Ulman, both Democrats, and Allan Kittleman, a Republican, along with additional high-profile candidates of both parties, including former Govs. Martin O’Malley and Robert L. Ehrlich, and former Baltimore Mayor Sheila Dixon. The immense number of Mangiones also was briefly confusing for Baltimoreans on Monday. Aside from Nicholas Sr. and Mary Mangione’s 10 children and 37 grandchildren, city counts at least two other Mangione families, who were briefly inundated with phone calls from the media and queries from former schoolmates and acquaintances. One of Luigi Mangione’s two sisters is a physician at the University of Texas Southwestern, according to her LinkedIn profile. Another sister is a visual artist. Neither sister responded to requests for comment. His mother, Kathleen, comes from a family that owns a funeral home, the Charles S. Zannino Funeral Home in Highlandtown, the Baltimore Fishbowl reported , and now runs a travel agency, KZM Boutique Travel, which had removed its website as of Tuesday evening. His father, Louis was groomed to help take over the family’s business empire, according to a 2003 Washington Post article . Have a news tip? Contact Riley Gutierrez McDermid at rmcdermid@baltsun.com or Frank Gluck at fgluck@baltsun.com.World of Warcraft 's newest large-group adventure will stand on the shoulders of 20 years of raids that came before—and break new ground. Literally. The Liberation of Undermine, the latest eight-boss underground raid that will launch as part of the 11.1 Undermine(d) update to The War Within expansion early next year, will contain new twists on old mechanics and some entirely new features that players haven't yet seen, game director Ion Hazzikostas told PC Gamer in an interview. WoW recently celebrated its 20th anniversary, and its raids have changed dramatically over the past 20 years. So have the tools that players use to beat them, ranging from guides and tier lists (for both class/specializations and gear) posted online, to sophisticated add-ons and WeakAuras that interpret the game's code and make some mechanics easier. "Player sophistication has grown," Hazzikostas said, especially compared to the experience people had when they stepped into WoW's first raid 20 years ago. "When I first went into Molten Core, none of us knew what we were doing. That first pull of two molten giants may as well have been a raid boss as far as we were concerned. Many groups that went into Molten Core for the first time did not kill those two mobs, and if they did, the fire lord right behind them spawned a million fire spawns and that was the end of your run. "Now those things would seem simple in a dungeon, let alone a raid." The upcoming Liberation of Undermine raid will include many more-complex mechanics, including those that turn the environment around bosses into part of the fight—a trend that has developed in WoW's raids over time. "There are certainly new encounters built upon lessons learned and things tested in old ones, but part of the encounter team's job is to evolve those experiences," Hazzikostas said. "They put a fresh coat of paint on old mechanics, but also come up with some genuinely new mechanics that no one's ever seen before, sometimes delivered by new tech—like slippy, slippy floors." The biggest gaming news, reviews and hardware deals Keep up to date with the most important stories and the best deals, as picked by the PC Gamer team. (WoW raids' slip-n-slide floors mechanic first appeared in the Sennarth spider boss encounter in Vault of the Incarnates, the first raid in the previous Dragonflight expansion.) The Liberation of Undermine will include more new environments-as-mechanics. "We go into the Grand Casino in Undermine, and we're making our way to face off against Gallywix," the former leader of the goblins and end boss of the Liberation of Undermine raid, Hazzikostas said. "The environmental framing of that is going to be part of what makes it a unique experience. It's something we've really been trying to lean into over the last 10 years in a way we didn't originally." An exhibition event at an early BlizzCon fan convention pitted the top North American guild against multiple random bosses from raids, which were spawned into an arena together and had to be defeated. Now "there's something quaint about the idea that you could spawn in a Molten Core boss in any old room and it would still work," said Hazzikostas. So the fights have gotten more complicated, even as 20 years of experience has made many of those players savvy veterans. And the tools at their fingertips—game changing mods and add-ons—have become powerful and robust. The result has been something of an arms race. Players invent different displays and handling of raid boss mechanics using mods that can trivialize some encounters. Blizzard developers respond by making those fights even more complicated to keep them interesting, which then causes players to complain that the bosses are a bullet hell that can't be beaten without using the mods, and around it goes. Blizzard experimented with making some mechanics unreadable by mods, with varying success. Players responded by creating add-ons that perform complex actions when players push hotkeys to indicate that the "invisible" mechanics are happening. In other cases, the mods add tracking and player positioning for fights where characters must respond to triggers incredibly quickly. It's not a great experience for either the designers or the players, since those mods are frequently finicky, requiring everyone to be running them precisely in sync. For example, in the current Nerub-ar Palace raid, the Broodtwister Ovi'nax fight pits players against a giant worm, with clusters of eggs that hatch and release adds, which must be defeated. On Mythic difficulty, players randomly assigned a debuff must overlap a modest circle around their feet on specific clusters. We can't be ignorant to the fact that many of our players are using add-ons, and it will shape the feedback we get about how engaging an encounter feels. It's complicated, because two players must stand on each cluster, in a very limited amount of time. If more than two characters stack on a cluster, there won't be enough to cover one of the other clusters needed around the boss. If players performed the mechanic without the assistance of mods, accidental overstacking is highly likely, even with competent groups. So instead, a complex WeakAura assigns two of the players to each cluster, which has been pre-marked by the raid's leaders. When my Cutting Edge guild (a guild that kills the last boss of the raid on Mythic difficulty before the tier ends) tackled Ovi'nax, it took nearly a full night of progression just to get the WeakAuras working properly—not exactly compelling gameplay. As a result, Hazzikostas said, players can expect Blizzard to remove more functionality from WeakAuras in raids in the future—and, hopefully, to add more in-game sources of information and more time to react, as a result. "We can't be ignorant to the fact that many of our players are using add-ons, and it will shape the feedback we get about how engaging an encounter feels," he said. The problem comes when mods can do the thinking for players when raid mechanics happen. If a fight has three or four mechanics, and a WeakAura consolidates all of them and only yells at them when they need to do something, players don't have to process much. "A player might say this was a boring encounter, because I was doing my DPS rotation for three minutes except for the one time my mod told me to do something," Hazzikostas said. "That may make us add a new mechanic, which in turn can make the encounter feel complex or overwhelming for someone who isn't using those add-ons." That's why future raids may have more limits on those mods, he said. "I think it's an area where we likely will want to start clawing back some functionality, as long as we can make sure that our baseline game experience is offering players the information they need to have an engaging, elegant time."
Join CSIS for an event on the last four years of cybersecurity policies. Speakers include Principal of Orkestrel Robert Knake , CSIS non-resident Senior Associate and President of Wondros Kiersten Todt , and Senior Director of the Center on Cyber and Technology Innovation at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies Mark Montgomery . This event is made possible through general support to CSIS.Review of 3,000 studies blames microplastic pollution for cancer and infertility