This is Old School Gaming: A beginner’s guide to the rudiments of how the game was originally played.

If you don’t ask, I don’t tell. Information must be ferreted out; it does not drop from the sky or announce itself with a chime.

It works how I say it works because this is my world. I invented everything about it.

If you don’t tell me, that’s too damned bad. I assume nothing readily; neither should you.

Never, ever, think that my world will only present challenges “commensurate with your abilities.” There is no progress without strife, neither is there XP to be earned. Most of the stuff you hear about on my world should be challenging and scary. Choose your battles wisely; there are no do-overs.

“Live to fight another day” is a time-honored and respected attitude to have. Anyone that attributes this ethic to cowardice is a fool.

I am never arbitrary; players, on the other hand, often act stupidly.

If a rule is constricting the fun, the rule needs to be bent.

No idea is impossible. That said, do not complain when I tell you that no matter how high your Dex or how many Hastes have been cast upon you, you still have only, at best, a 15% chance to snatch that razor-sharp shuriken from the air and not shred every tendon in your hand. Would you even think about it in real life? Granted, this is not Real Life, but common sense and logic must always prevail; this is not a movie.

It works that way because I said so. Do not even begin to harbor the thought that maybe I did something incorrectly.

If I trust you enough to not minutely scrutinize every single die roll (vs. my “babies” or creating your PC), why should I even listen to you carping about my rolling behind a screen? If you don’t trust me or the players sitting around you, you are at the wrong table.

If you are not having fun, go home.