Rolling the Dice: Character Creation & Marginalized Voices in Dungeons & Dragons
The worlds of fantasy fiction can often feel very black and white: there are heroes and villains, good and evil, sometimes literally black and white magic. Even when the protagonist is an antihero, which side of the conflict is “good” is still pretty straightforward in worlds with evil empires and scrappy rebels or holy kingdoms surrounded by untamed wilderness. Nowhere is this more notable than in Dungeons & Dragons and its alignment system, a literal measure of how Good or Evil your character is.
In its earliest iterations, D&D was even more restrictive in its character options. If you didn’t want to play as a human, elves and dwarves were their own character classes; in other words, you couldn’t be a dwarf and a wizard, or an elf and a thief – you could only be one thing, and if you didn’t fit the default – if you were different – that difference was your sole defining trait. It’s hard not to view this as a queer person and be reminded of heteronormativity, of being forced into the closet or having to define your identity to everyone you meet.
In later editions of the game, player options expanded, but your character was still defined primarily by their body, especially their racial identity: by the 3rd edition, you could play as a dwarf who’s a wizard, but you have to accept that dwarves are naturally less intelligent than other races, and take a penalty that affects the fundamental way you play the game. In the setting of Greyhawk, orcs explicitly have their own culture, history, and identities – they’re as much people as any human or elf. However, orcs all got the same penalty to their Intelligence score, regardless of whether they were a simple uneducated farmer or a worlds-renowned scholar, and were categorically Evil creatures, even the holy priests and harmless villagers. Goblins were only seen as obstacles for blade, spell, and hammer to slay, all of them Evil and stupid regardless of their history or background. In fact, for over twenty years it was impossible to make a character that was an orc or a goblin; half-orcs were acceptable in the rules, but without human heritage “taming” the orc’s vicious nature it was impossible to have an orcish hero.
Hearing the Dog Whistle
For years, people of color have drawn comparisons between this “race science” and eugenics and pseudoscience. In a world where a whole race of people is universally inclined to be stupid and evil, it could be easy to justify and even agree with practices like phrenology and segregation, and yet it’s all too easy for white players to ignore the implications of the phony race science, leaving players of the game from marginalized and oppressed cultures alone to grapple with the real-world analogues of the game’s history.
Recently, the game has begun to reckon with these implications. With the game’s fifth edition exploding in popularity, in 2020 the game’s publisher Wizards of the Coast released Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, a resource for Dungeon Masters and players to fortify character creation options and introduce optional rules, including the option to separate character statistics from their in-game race. After more than 40 years, it is finally possible to play a goblin who is good, intelligent, and heroic, without fighting the rules fundamental to the game. The One D&D project slated for release in 2024 has gone a step beyond, changing the rules to character creation to more heavily emphasize your character’s history and completely removing racial bonuses and penalties. People are shaped by their upbringing, their wider culture, and their own choices more than anything, and WotC is seemingly beginning to recognize that nuance.
That’s not to say the progress has been a straight line: two years after the release of Tasha’s, the 2022 adventure sourcebook Spelljammer: Adventures in Space came under fire for its portrayal of the Hadozee, a simian diaspora of unintelligent flying monkeys given sentience by a wizard – in order to sell them as slaves. The art for the race held a clear similarity to the racist depictions seen in minstrel shows, and the apelike features call to mind the pejoratives leveled at Black people throughout history; the process described through which the Hadozee were given their sentience, meanwhile, calls to mind experimental medical procedures and malpractice done to Black Americans. When taken to task for the lack of sensitivity readers during the book’s process and the resulting minstrel-esque Hadozee, Wizards of the Coast’s solution was... to digitally remove all mention of the Hadozee from the online versions of the Spelljammer sourcebook.
Behind the DM’s Screen
Representation doesn’t only matter in the fictional setting of D&D, of course; marginalized voices also need to be heard in the process of creating the game. Also in 2022, Wizards of the Coast released Journeys through the Radiant Citadel, a collection of adventures for Dungeon Masters to take their players through, either individually or as a holistic campaign. Notably, the titular Radiant Citadel is a new addition to the game’s default setting, the Forgotten Realms, and is described as a multicultural melting pot, a figurative bastion of inclusivity and representation, where every culture has a seat at the table. Behind the scenes, each adventure was written by a Black or brown author pulling from their own cultural heritage and personal mythology, ranging from aboriginal Australian lore to Black southern Gothic horror, from modern Indian culture to South Asian folklore. Production of the book involved over fifty people of color, from lead designer Ajit George to the cover illustrators Evyn Fong and Sija Fong. Dungeon Master resources in the book include a pronunciation guide and a section guiding the DM through “thoughtful introductions” and the dimensionality and care they ought to bring to characters when roleplaying characters outside of their own experience, including nonbinary, queer, and physically disabled characters as well as the cultural diversity the book calls into focus. While the production of the book could be viewed by a cynical fan – all too common following the OGL debacle earlier this year – as a token plea to minority consumers in the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement, Journeys is a strong first step to changing the trajectory of racial representation in the game – if it’s followed up with more, both in fiction and the real world. (Maybe the next step is to start involving sensitivity readers and cultural consultants from multiple backgrounds to vet works of all kinds, to ensure the Hadozee fiasco doesn’t repeat itself? Just a thought.)
Of course, Dungeons & Dragons isn’t the only roleplaying game available to players wanting to act out a heroic fantasy adventure. Evil Hat Productions’ Thirsty Sword Lesbians by April Kit Walsh is about... well, exactly what it says on the cover. The game is explicitly and unapologetically for queer people who want to tell stories about people like themselves, and holds itself firmly to that core conceit, with character archetypes like “Shimbo Pirate” and “Plant Geek Babygay.” Walsh’s game is about flirting with danger and with hot people, about feeling as heroic and dashing as a shounen protagonist, about fully engaging with the fantasy we often deny ourselves.
Possum Creek’s Wanderhome by Jay Dragon takes queerness and internal nuance and makes it something to grapple with, not glance over. A “no dice, no masters” game system, character creation involves deciding your name, pronouns, and species – none of which have any mechanical repercussions nor limitations – and then choosing a series of introspective options. What is your character afraid of? Who are they trying to be? Significantly, gender is both separate from and intrinsic to these choices: your they/it Ragamuffin can be A Girl if you want, and your he/him Firelight can feel he doesn’t need to be either “Properly Feminine” or “Strong and Manly.” While there are mechanical choices to be made, Dragon recognizes the joy in roleplaying comes from playing a role, and gives players the opportunity to make their character as fully realized as they want.
Who Do You Want to Be?
It's no coincidence that roleplaying games like D&D have become so popular with the LGBTQIA+ community in recent years: we’re all familiar with playing a role, with acting like someone we aren’t. As more of us are welcomed at the table, we get the opportunity to flip the narrative on its head, to make joyful the thing we were taught to repress: we can live out our fantasies without shame, without fear, and without limits. We can be ourselves and be heroes at the same time, and we can see ourselves in the stories we tell.
Blackwarren Books is committed to furthering the stories of heroes in the margins. If you’re interested in stories about good and intelligent goblins, take a look at Redcap, Whitecap, Goblin, Thief by Vaughn R. Demont. If you have your own story to tell, take a look at our open submissions calls!
