The Story Continues
This is the story I never wanted to write—not because it isn’t true, but because it still hurts. It never should have happened. I didn’t want it to be true. I begged for help, but none came.
When I published my story about the early days of the Wizard101 community, I said that silence had only protected a lie. But I need to make this clear, it didn’t just protect a lie. It empowered cruelty. It rewarded smear campaigns. It gave power to the very people who weaponized my trauma and turned the community I loved into a place I no longer felt safe.
I’ve said that KingsIsle is not an evil corporation, and I stand by that. I love Wizard101 and know the developers and artists who work there are passionate about their game too. But they are dangerously inept when it comes to the community, and that failure cost me everything in the end.
KingsIsle took a hands-off approach in the early years, insisting they would never acknowledge or support social media communities. When I first encountered Nathan, it was through his role leading the fan-run Wizard101 Community Facebook group. When he asked me to help moderate, I agreed, thinking I was doing something small and helpful to give back to my community.
But over time, that help became something bigger. With the goal of acknowledgement from KingsIsle, Nathan asked me to help build a fansite. I named it. I helped organize and run the teams. I wrote for it, edited for it, and taught others to write. I was the one doing the day-to-day work: the community engagement, the content creation, the everyday grind. And when that fansite, Ravenwood Academy, was made official by KingsIsle, it legitimized him. Not because he had done the work, but because his name was listed at the top.
That was the first time KingsIsle officially recognized us. And even then, it wasn’t for the spaces where our community truly lived: our Discord, our Facebook group, but for a website. KingsIsle would later join our community spaces, quietly interacting on Discord but never offering structure, clarity, or support. They had no infrastructure for community safety, and they ignored the people who asked for help.
When I first became the leader of the community after the events of The Tower is Falling, the staff and I had a discussion, and we agreed to change our name. The server had originally been called “Wizard101 Community,” but we didn’t feel it was right to keep that title. As hostile voices on Reddit pointed out, we weren’t the whole community. That name had been tied to Nathan’s leadership, and now we were a new community. We wanted to shape our new name with honesty and care. So we chose “Ravenwood Community” to reflect both the shift in leadership and our connection to the official fansite, Ravenwood Academy. When the community outside our server pressured us to change the name, we listened. Not because we owed them anything, but because we believed in doing what was right.
That moment should have been a turning point. A clean start for us all. But it wasn’t. Because even after Nathan left, and the staff team and community were safe, the harassment didn’t stop. It mutated. It festered. It moved into private Discord servers, Reddit threads, and DMs. A group calling themselves “Atmoplex” became a kind of shadow council, organizing mockery, recycling misinformation, and propping up the same document that had been twisted and weaponized against me from the start. A document that proves no crime, no malice, no exploitation. A document that simply tried to capture the chaos Nathan left behind, but that people from those circles were now waving around like a smoking gun.
There are screenshots. Logs. I’ve kept them. My staff has too. Some of the people involved in harassing us hid behind alt accounts. Some of them are still welcome in the official Wizard101 community today. They insulted me with misogynistic slurs, made jokes about grooming, and even joked about my real-life children. I was doxxed. I was threatened. I was called things I didn’t even have the language to process at the time. I didn’t speak out. Not because I was guilty, but because I was terrified. And KingsIsle did nothing to help me, even when I begged.
They had no reporting infrastructure. No player safety liaison. No escalation path for community leaders. I reached out directly to their community manager at the time, Sparck, and I felt hopeful. Sparck listened. Sparck knew the truth. He met Nathan when the partnership with Ravenwood Academy first formed. So he knew first-hand what Nathan had claimed to be, and that the rumors weren’t true. And although it was clear Sparck didn’t have much institutional support from his own company, he did what he could to protect me.
But then Sparck was gone, and the community management team imploded. In that vacuum, the people who hated me found their opportunity.
That is when I was banned.
No questions. No investigation. No dialogue. KingsIsle cut off contact, terminated our partnership, and banned not only me, but the accounts of my family members, including the character Amber Ravensong, whom so many knew as a pillar of the community.
There wasn’t even a formal notice. When we became partners, it was through email. When they removed us, there was nothing. Just a silent disappearance from the fansite list. Just absence. Just erasure.
And all the while, their official Discord mod team turned a blind eye to, and sometimes even participated in, the mockery and abuse.
Everything I’ve said, every warning I raised, every pattern of abuse I endured, is backed by evidence. I documented it not because I wanted to weaponize it, but because I was trying to get help. Over the years, I’ve been called dramatic, overreactive, even manipulative, just for advocating for my community and asking to be treated with the same dignity every person deserves.
This section is for the skeptics, the doubters, the people who want proof. Fine. Here’s proof.
Let’s begin with Uga Buga, a mod in the official Wizard101 server. In multiple screenshots, they mock Ravynwood openly, calling us an “echo chamber,” claiming our goal is to “trap people,” and encouraging others to pile on with insults. These were not private jokes. These were messages posted in official public channels while they held a position of authority, even after I had already reported previous instances of this same behavior.
When I brought these messages to KingsIsle’s attention, Sparck initially struggled to see the problem — until I explained. The messages were not only untrue and hurtful, but were also posted by a mod in a space meant to be welcoming for all players.
He apologized. He said he would talk to them. But it didn’t stop. And deeper issues began to surface. Staff from the Atmoplex Discord, the same group that organized years of harassment against me and Ravynwood, were present in the official Wizard101 server. Some even held mod titles or access.
The result? The lines blurred. Abusers were allowed back in. The same people who participated in smear campaigns and used emotes to harass my comments and posts in the official Wizard101 Discord were permitted to stay, while I was banned.
This wasn’t just mockery anymore. It was a coordinated campaign to destroy my reputation, enabled by people in power who looked away, and ignored by those who could have stopped it.
And I want people to see it clearly. This is the truth.
Not a conspiracy. Not a misunderstanding. Not “drama.” The screenshots you’ve just seen show a clear pattern:
Repeated public harassment by mods in official spaces.
Private acknowledgment from KingsIsle that the behavior was “not great.”
Continued inaction.
Known Atmoplex members with ties to the smear campaign being allowed back into official spaces.
Me, banned without explanation.
It isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about every creator, every mod, every volunteer who gave their time and heart to a community that didn’t protect them. It’s about what we all lose when power is abused, when fear is weaponized, and when truth is treated like a threat.
I don’t want revenge. I want acknowledgment. I want safeguards. I want KingsIsle to recognize that protecting your community isn’t optional – it’s foundational.
Even after being banned from the community and game I love, the harassment hasn’t stopped, but it has become quieter. The people who had targeted me for years didn’t just disappear. But to be accurate, the screenshots here come from before the ban, back when Sparck was still part of the team. He didn’t protect me from the harassment, but he did try to keep it from escalating further. Once he was gone and KingsIsle stopped responding, everything spiraled.
I tried to let it go. I tried to stay in my lane. I told myself maybe this was just how the industry works. But the bullying followed me from server to server. From public spaces to private DMs. From Discord… all the way to my phone.
People reached out to me directly. Sometimes to warn me, sometimes to intimidate me. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the difference.
Other times, it was less ambiguous. I was insulted, cornered, and accused in places where I had once been welcomed. Even the act of defending myself became twisted into something to mock.
Friends turned on me. Or felt forced to. Some said they were pressured. Some chose silence. Some believed the lies.
After the rumors flared up again, this former friend, a creator I had encouraged and supported, messaged me out of nowhere to accuse me of something vile. There was no evidence, no conversation, just cruelty. I include this not because it’s easy, but because this is what was said about me. This is what was used to isolate me, scare others into silence, and justify my removal.
I tried to understand why this was happening to me. I reached out to Sparck for help again.
After that message, I sat with the weight of it.
I asked myself again and again: What more could I have done?
I had tried to be transparent.
I had tried to lead with integrity.
I had tried to be kind and reasonable.
I had tried everything to show the community who I was, but these rumors kept haunting me.
A Message to the Industry
This didn’t have to happen. It should never have happened.
I gave everything to this community. Not for money or fame, but because I believed in the power of gaming to bring people together. I believed in stories, friendship, and second chances. I believed that if you gave people a space filled with kindness, they would rise to meet it.
And I was right.
Before KingsIsle empowered my abusers, Ravynwood was a thriving, diverse community server. Always bubbling with friendship, kindness, and inclusivity, always ready to help someone, in-game or out. It was proof that safe, player-driven spaces can exist.
But kindness doesn’t protect you from cruelty. And love doesn’t always shield you from being erased.
What happened to me was not the result of one person holding power. It was the result of a lie, protected by silence. A pattern that was ignored until it consumed me. A system that left me to carry the burden of player safety alone and then punished me for collapsing under its weight.
I didn’t ask for credit. I just wanted to help the community grow and thrive. I poured myself into it – the writing, the leadership, the mentoring – all while balancing motherhood, crisis, and survival offline. I never expected to be rewarded, but I never expected to be punished for it either.
And yet, again and again, I was exploited — first by Nathan, then by KingsIsle, and later by the people they legitimized as mods. Each time, I gave more of myself, hoping it would lead to something good. And each time, they took what they wanted and left me to carry the consequences alone.
KingsIsle did not just fail to protect me. They legitimized my abuser. They gave power and influence to a player who lied about his age and intentions, and when those lies unraveled, they abandoned the people who had done the real work of building something good.
They made me disposable.
They were not malicious. But they were negligent. And that negligence changed the course of my life.
So let this be a lesson – not just to KingsIsle, but to every game studio, every CM team, every brand that relies on the unpaid labor of fans to sustain its ecosystem:
If you lean on community leaders, you must also protect them.
If you benefit from their passion, you must invest in their safety.
If you ask for their trust, you must earn and honor it.
Because we are not just free labor. We are not your PR shield. We are not NPCs in your content cycle.
We are human beings. We deserve to be safe.
We deserve to be heard.
And when harm is done to us, we deserve more than silence.
I don’t expect KingsIsle to restore my account, or reverse the ban, or reinstate Amber Ravensong. I don’t even expect them to say my name.
But I hope they read this.
And I hope the next company does better.
Because somewhere out there is another community leader trying to keep their players safe, holding back a flood of toxicity with nothing but compassion and sheer willpower – and they don’t know yet how easily it can all be taken away.
If I can protect them by telling this story, then maybe none of this was in vain.
As far as Ravynwood goes, our song is not over yet. We may be a little war-torn and battle weary, but we’re still standing.
And we will rise again.
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