Earlier this week, lead D&D rules designer Jeremy Crawford said "if it has not appeared in a book since 2014, we don’t consider it canonical for the games." There are so many reasons for WotC to not want to deal with every piece of Forgotten Realms lore published since 1987: there's too much to track; writers don't have time to research everything and usually don't need to just to make new adventures; writers don't want to be harnessed to so much extra information and all the expectations that come with it; all of the old lore still exists and is available via the DM's Guild, if gamers want to access and use it at their tables (everything's discounted right now for the Christmas in July sale, so you can even stock up); 5e is focused on the present and making it easy for new gamers to dive in; and so on.
But just like that, fresh arguments about canon erupted on social media and reminded me that I've been meaning to write about my relationship with roleplaying canons. I started this post months ago but I didn't get far before feeling disgruntled and stopping. Now seems like the right moment to finish it. So strap in, because I'm going to go back in time and broader in scope so you can understand how I got to my own peace with it.
What's a Canon and Why Do Folks Care about It?
We've all probably dealt with a canon at some point. It likely started in school, when teachers chose traditional books for us to read, or in church, when we were told only certain books and ideas were holy. We might have learned about literary classics in college and seen similar concepts in our favorite fandoms. A canon is a collection of works that are considered the best quality, most noteworthy, and most authoritative. They're deemed original and genuine pieces that are relevant to the present and important for most people to experience. We make these lists for books, films, shows, comics, and more.
Nothing about this is new; we've been doing it for thousands of years. And there's something to be said for having a canon. If people study the same sources, they'll be able to discuss them easily; they'll understand each others' references because they share the same knowledge base. Some canon works have many merits of their own and are unique experiences. Some creators seem to know their material better than others, maintain a consistent view and level of quality, and have a unique style others haven't been able to match. A lot of effort is put into creating these works, and that effort is worth recognizing.
But there are many problems with an established canon. For starters, who decides what's best, and by which standards? Much of the time, a canon is agreed upon by a group of fans and then upheld as the standard for everyone, without knowing who started the trend. How much do biases play a part in accepting and rejecting new works? If white men have usually been viewed as proper authority figures with the credentials to produce and be heard, how has that impacted other groups of people who create in similar ways? Are new materials really "worse" than the classics, or are they simply different and being rejected out of hand? As a person with a Master's in English literature, I could go on about troubles canon all day. Suffice to say, I've only scratched the surface.
Tabletop roleplaying games that develop unique settings often have their own canons. Fans are inclined to accept materials that are published by the original gaming company as the best; everything else is somehow inferior. Fans might also deem certain writers/game designers as the only people who can speak with authority on a game's setting in a general sense. Sure, GMs can do whatever they want at their own tables, but only this company or this writer should be heeded by everyone who plays in that setting.
Roleplaying Canons and Me: A Brief History
Looking back on it now, I suppose it's no surprise that I was drawn to the tabletop games that I've enjoyed most. I mean, I considered majoring in history because of how much I always loved it. As a very young girl, I wanted to grow up to be an archaeologist (okay, I wanted to be whip-wielding Indiana Jones, not just any old archaeologist, but taking a class in college and learning about the painstaking nature of real archaeology finally burst that bubble). So I ended up being sucked in by games laden with histories (and canons) of their own.
I first encountered a canon in gaming with the very first tabletop game I played - Vampire: the Masquerade. The classic World of Darkness had a "metaplot" because official books established fictional supernatural events; many fans accepted these details as valid for everyone who played any of the WoD game lines. Since you could set a chronicle anywhere in the world, the history of the WoD was the only thing fans were likely to have in common. Even though some events were presented by characters who were unstable or openly biased, some gamers insisted that everything in the official books was true for all. And I can see why, since White Wolf writers built on what was already established and seemed to take it seriously. The end result was usually pretty convincing.
I admit, I liked things about the metaplot. I knew parts of it by heart and had fun discussing it with others, but I never felt beholden to it. I used what suited me and ditched the rest. My stance didn't usually lead to arguments because the games I played in were centered in the present day, and the past wasn't usually a major issue. Other gamers, however, felt constricted by it and came to hate it (and the rigid attitudes of fellow gamers probably played a major role in that). So I wasn't surprised that when the classic WoD was retired and the new WoD was unveiled, the metaplot was one of the first things left behind. (What I said in this old post about what we can learn from metaplots still holds true.) Eventually, I got on board with the new system and learned to live without a metaplot.
Then I discovered the Forgotten Realms. By the time I played the Baldur's Gate games in the late 90s, the Realms had over a decade of lore developed across game supplements, novels, and video games. I fell in love with what I read in the Baldur's Gate series and was inspired to finally try running a tabletop game. I got my hands on the Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting book for 3rd edition and found an amazing work that summarized a great deal of lore while establishing the present day.
But then I had choices to make - the same choices that anyone who wants to run the Realms faces early on, namely: Where and in which year should I begin? How much of the lore do I want or need for my game? Do I try to track down lots of books and binge-read them so I can get all the details (because dear gods, the 2nd edition FR game supplements have more frills than a Victorian house)? How do I insert my own views into so much material? My players didn't know much about the setting, so I didn't have to worry about offending their sensibilities, but other DMs may struggle to convince players to accept their visions. The Realms has so much history and detail, in fact, that some gamers feel paralyzed or are instantly repelled.
But I didn't sweat it. I was used to picking and choosing what I wanted by then; the WoD had given me plenty of practice. I stuck with the books I had because there was no way I was going to be able to catch up on everything. I didn't want to put off my campaign so I could become a Realms scholar first - I wanted to run things my way right away. Eventually, when later 3.5 edition books added new events, I realized they weren't entirely to my tastes, so I just didn't allow them into my canon. I took what I could use from new books and left the rest to those who enjoyed it. I had far more problems with 4th edition in general and development of the Realms in particular; I wasn't interested in Realms-wide upheaval and moving so far into the future, among other things.
So I didn't update my canon with most of that material. I kept advancing my games during play as I desired and in accordance with player character choices. Sometimes my players would find out about developments in the books and complain about them to me. It was nice to know they preferred our Realms and backed my choices. Since we were all having fun, I didn't see the need to conform to anyone else's dictates about how we should run or play.
My Websites Aren't Official Canon, But They Can Be Part of Your Canon
All of this brings me to my website, Kismet's Dungeons and Dragons, which is now venerable, in internet terms. I created it so I could share things I made for my first campaign, which I started by creating my own small city. I placed it on a part of the map that was unclaimed (although later books put the town of Rivermoot in that spot). I used some of what I read in the books to weave it into the region and tie it to other locations but let it be its own place. I inserted my own major Realms event in the form of the main plot. I looked up details about locations the PCs were going to visit beforehand and used whatever seemed to make the most sense and would be of most interest. Some places, I respun almost entirely; other places didn't have many established details to begin with, so I was encouraged to fill in the blanks.
Eventually, this led to me to choose Thay as the setting for my first evil campaign. I read much of the 3rd edition material about it but was left unsatisfied, so I went diving into 2nd edition books but found more of the same. Such a powerful country - a whole country with embassies amidst much smaller kingdoms - seemed half empty, and some of what was written about it didn't jive with its incredible successes. A nation that threw off the yoke of theocracy and declared independence from Mulhorand to do things their way didn't just sound bad, it also sounded badass. A ruling class made up of devious wizards was fascinating; their constant, thoughtless assaults on nearby kingdoms didn't make much sense. On one hand, they were portrayed as a slave-trading powerhouse that prospered greatly from slave-made goods, so much that kingdoms would trade with them even though they hated slavery. In the next breath, they were shown as treating all slaves horribly all the time and killing them wantonly.
It seemed Thay was written from an outsider's view of the nation and presented to justify making them villains everyone would hate and which would be relatively easy to defeat, because they would sabotage themselves and each other. And that's a valid way to write an evil nation. It encourages heroism, reduces moral complexity, and lets players know who their enemies are quickly. It allows for victories that only go so far because you're not just fighting one Thayan, but a country with corrupt institutions. And it likely leads to less outrage from readers, since Thay touches on so many sensitive and unpleasant topics (necromancy, slavery, etc.). 4th edition developments essentially destroyed Thay as it was, breaking the nation apart and dividing the Red Wizards.
But I wanted to get to know Thay as it was in the 1370s, so I dove into expanding and deepening my view of it. I started with the basics in the lore but spun my own details from that framework. I didn't usually go out of my way to distinguish what was in the books from what I added because I added so much, and because my site has always been presented as my own view of things as a DM. I contributed to some game books for third party companies over the years, but I've never worked for WotC or pretended to.
Still, a number of times over the decades, I've stumbled across discussions that mention material on my D&D web site (and this blog) and ask if it's canon. This has usually been the case with people who were searching for more details about Thay and found my writings. These seekers haven't asked me about it directly; they've asked in forums with other gamers who might know the lore better than they do. And most of the time, someone has answered that my site isn't canon, and the person who inquired promptly gave up on their desire to use what they found. I haven't chimed in on these forums for a number of reasons: the seekers got the answers they asked for, and my stuff isn't approved or published by any gaming company (and therefore isn't canon in most people's eyes).
The Canon and You
What I've wanted to say about the matter is simply this: You ultimately decide what's canon for yourself (and, if you're the DM, your group). Gaming companies can publish supplements and comics and other media all year long, but they don't matter until you deem them worthy of your table. One person will never be able to find, consume, and use everything that's published for the Forgotten Realms or any other setting with so much history (in-universe and in real life). Even if you try, you'll never remember and use it all. That's the nature of the beast and being human. You're going to have to choose - so choose wisely.
You can certainly accept what's officially published if you want to, for your own reasons. It could be great quality material with a lot of thought, effort, and playtesting behind it. It could be exactly what you want and need, and fall in line with your instincts and rationale. It may help you connect with other gamers who only consider official materials to be valid by default. But you don't have to accept it in whole or in part, and accepting material produced by others doesn't mean you're disrespecting the official creators or the history of the lore. It just means that you're adding what you want to your canon.
And if the material I've produced seems consistent, sensible, expansive, helpful, and inspiring - and if you can't tell the difference between what I've written and what's been written by folks at TSR and WotC over the decades - then why wouldn't you use it? Why couldn't it be part of your canon? What would it really hurt for you to make it part of your world?
I get it: Players can be picky. They might argue if you use something that isn't officially produced - but you should get what you want out of the game, too. But compromise shouldn't be off the table, and it's not like players can't read what I've written; my site's been online for about 20 years. I understand that there's only so much you can allow into your sphere of awareness. There are already too many books to keep track of, and you have to draw the line somewhere. But in a hobby dedicated to imagination, why reject material you like and can use just because the people who made it weren't paid by a particular company to do so? Because this isn't just about my site - there's a wide world of great stuff that's been lovingly made by fans, which is part of why the DM's Guild and other sites like it exist in the first place. If official game companies can recognize the talent not under their purview enough to create licenses so others can offer their hard work, you should be willing and able to consider that others have what it takes to make worthy entries to the lore.
Whatever you decide to reject or include, really think about it first. Make sure it serves your needs and desires, and be ready to own your choices. Don't reject it the moment you see it's not official; analyze it based on its own merits. Because at the end of the day, your hobby is yours, and there have never been more ways to find great work outside of official production lines.
And at the end of the day, I'm here to create my own canon, present it in the hopes that it helps others, and often to cover what gaming companies don't or won't. I love the lore, I appreciate the efforts of game designers, and I respect the history of the hobby, but I'm here to do my own thing because I love it, not because I'm on a particular company's payroll. I write with authority because I've chosen to claim it - and I want every game to be able to claim their authority, over the canon and the rest of their experience.
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