So after a week or two of trying to decode the arcane mysteries of D&D from thirty years back, my party of mostly 4e players embarked upon the first dungeon of the original Red Box. The first encounter, presented as a 'warm-up' for the actual fights that would soon take place was a Carrion Crawler. A carrion crawler has eight attacks every turn, yet does no damage whatsoever. When it hits, it paralyzes the target for about 30 minutes. It also only has something like 8 or 10 HP. They lost. The spellcaster wouldn't cast his spell, the thief pushed the immediately paralyzed cleric into the Carrion Crawler, and the other cleric made the baffling choice to back up and throw his weapon rather than just hitting the thing. This wasn't covered by the book, so I rolled a d4 to see which one of our party got carried into the monster's lair. It turned out to be the Elf, so I decided that if they were to try and rescue him (or at least keep the monster occupied until he broke free of the paralyzing attack) he would still have 1HP left. Rather than rescuing him, the thief left the party and walked back to town. While one of the clerics set the hole on fire, killing both the Carrion Crawler and their injured teammate. I was so disgusted that I had the thief get bitten by a snake, and the two clerics were crushed by a falling, giant door. Thus the journeys of the first Basic party were ended. Somewhat undeterred, we decided to try a more or less random dungeon. To see if we could fare any better or make any sense of this game. So after forcing open the door to the dungeon, the mapper lost all sense of his function. And started to act as though his role as 'mapper' was some kind of stop-gap measure until I could build the dungeon for them out of official d&d tiles. It was also at this point where the idea of turns outside of combat started to become a problem. I would explain to the best of my knowledge, the role of a "caller" and how they needed to decide as a group what was worth using their ten-minute turns doing. They would all make agreeable noises, then declare four different things that their characters were doing all at once. The thief decided to try and spend 4 1/2 hours checking every square inch of the dungeon's very first 50' x 50' room. Which to my surprise, the other players agreed to eagerly. At the thirty minute mark (game time) of his four hour endeavor, five diseased rats wandered into the room. The party successfully killed two of the five rats, at which point the rats were overwhelmed and ran for their lives. What I haven't mentioned up to this point, is how I set up a blank page in our roll20 game to look like a sheet of graph paper. Slightly grey, with blue-lines, and a smallish 1:1.414 ratio. This was what the mapper was meant to map upon while I was buried up to my neck in descriptions, tables, and the actual map. This becomes important to describe the way that they described all of their movements, individual or group. "I go.... here" is just about all I would get to go on, no matter how many times I asked them to use cardinal-directions and units of distance-measurement to describe their character's manifestations of mobility. This factor combined with their continued tendency to declare their player's actions by talking over each other, is how our thief ended up back-flipping into a wall. If that wasn't enough, he then stood up and tried to dive out the door from thirty feet away. So after defeating the rats, the players chose one of the two doors available to them and started to walk through it. The final straw of the night was when halfway through the doorway, the fighter (this was a different party of characters, after all) asked for a lamp despite the fact that he was already holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. This resulted in an actual, literal, forty-five minute argument about whether or not this was possible. Despite the fact that I tried to both quote the book which said such a thing was impossible, and decide that it was possible just to get things moving again. About twenty minutes into the lamp argument, I moved the players back to the opening page and left roll20. The rest of the night was spent just talking. The real purpose for my relaying of this story, is a claim that our elected "caller" kept making. He kept insisting (over and over and over) that no one ever played the game in the way the rule book described. He would then describe an element of 4e or 3.5 and insist that was the way all the older editions were played as well. What I'd like to ask is: Is that at all true? I understand house-rules, and making stuff up when you need/want to. But surely the description in the rules wasn't so far off that it would make the game unplayable? That was his chant the entire night "this was unplayable, that's why they later added <blank> to the game." Naturally enough, the <blank> part would change with every telling. Though the insistence on its "unplayable" state was consistent. My secondary question is this: Is it unreasonable to expect players to make their own maps? The way they reacted to the realization of the fact that they'd have to participate beyond "I go... here" was on par with suggesting they sacrifice their firstborn to satan. Coming from two very heavy DM-provided visual games of 4e, this was the part I was looking forward to the most. The room can be described as many times as needed, and we can wait for as long as the mapper needs. But if after all that, they turn around and ask when the "real map" will be ready it makes me want to choke the life out of something adorable. Is the game played the way described in the rules? (the combat sequence: re-rolling initiative every round, group movement, group attacks, etc. and the out of combat ten minute turns) And is it reasonable to expect players to make their own maps?