This week on Todd Talks, Todd Kenreck gathered a panel of sharp-minded D&D players: Lauren Urban, Jen Kretchmer, and Jim Davis, to talk about controversial spells in D&D. With the latest events of Heroes of the Vale fresh on their minds, the wish spell immediately became their first topic of conversation. In this week’s Spell Spotlight, let’s take a close look at the history of the wish spell, and some ways for you to adjudicate player wishes without breaking your campaign.
A History of Wishes
The wish spell has changed a lot over the ages. Some editions wildly restrict its power, some editions let the characters rewrite reality with a word. Some wishes have discrete costs, while others are more lax. Before we dig into the best ways to adjudicate wish at your table, we need to see why wish works the way it does in the current edition of D&D.
Original D&D
Wish first appeared in “OD&D,” in Supplement 1: Greyhawk. This version of wish was, in keeping with the style of OD&D, light on hard-coded restrictions. However, it advised the Dungeon Master (or rather, the “referee”) to be as devious and cruel as they liked with their interpretation of the player character’s wish.
[Wish alters] the past, present, or future to cause a wish to come true. The caster may wish to erase an unfortunate adventure, for instance, or may get a clue to a powerful item or great treasure. Wishes must be careful: the referee may grant a wish in such a way as to kill or handicap a character.
Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 1st Edition
The AD&D Player’s Handbook published an updated version of the wish spell, as well as another spell known as limited wish, a 7th-level spell with more restricted effects.
A Limited Wish is a very potent but difficult spell. It will fulfill literally, but only partially or for a limited duration, the utterance of the spell caster. Thus, the actuality of the past, present or future might be altered (but possibly only for the magic-user unless the wording of the Limited Wish is most carefully stated) in some limited manner. The use of a Limited Wish will not substantially change major realities, nor will it bring wealth or experience merely by asking. The spell can, for example, restore some hit points (or all hit points for a limited duration) lost by the magic-user. It can reduce opponent hit probabilities or damage, it can increase duration of some magical effect, it can cause a creature to be favorably disposed to the spell caster, and so on. The Limited Wish can possibly give a minor clue to some treasure or magic item. Greedy desires will usually end in disaster for the wisher.
And though wish was still the ultimate spell, it saw a significant reduction in power between OD&D and AD&D. Interestingly, its power was reduced not by placing restrictions on what kind of wishes the caster could make, but by striking the caster with fatigue that persisted after the spell’s casting. Worthy of note also, is that the spell text now gave referees a certain amount of guidance as how to adjudicate the spell, even going so far as to encourage the DM to “maintain game balance” by obliquely interpreting player wishes.
The Wish spell is a more potent version of a Limited Wish. If it is used to alter reality with respect to hit points sustained by a party, to bring a dead character to life, or to escape from a difficult situation by lifting the spell caster (and his or her party) from one place to another, it will not cause the magic-user any disability. Other forms of wishes, however, will cause the spell caster to be weak (–3 on strength) and require 2 to 8 days of bed rest due to the stresses the wish places upon time, space, and his or her body. Regardless of what is wished for, the exact terminology of the Wish spell is likely to be carried through. (This discretionary power of the referee is necessary in order to maintain game balance. As wishing another character dead would be grossly unfair, for example, your DM might well advance the spell caster to a future period where the object is no longer alive, i.e. putting the wishing character out of the campaign.)
Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 2nd Edition
The versions of wish and limited wish in AD&D 2nd edition are much the same as they were in 1st edition. The text is almost identical, in fact! Its one significant divergence from the wish as presented in 1e is a permanent cost to the caster!
Casting a wish spell ages the caster five years.
This is the first instance of wish requiring a cost beyond simply a 9th-level spell slot to cast. This idea would be developed further in 3rd edition. Speaking of which…
3rd Edition Dungeons & Dragons
D&D changed a lot in the jump from 2nd to 3rd edition, including dropping the now-superfluous “Advanced” moniker. The wish spell received a significant overhaul, which in true 3rd edition style, was a full codification of the spell’s effects. While this expansive elucidation helped remove guesswork and DM-to-DM variance in the spell’s usefulness, it significantly increased the complexity and restrictiveness of the spell. Ultimately, it’s a matter of opinion whether or an increase in codification made wish better or worse.
Continuing the trend that 2nd edition began, wish now costs experience points to cast, but no longer caused the spellcaster to suffer wish fatigue. Now, a not-insignificant XP cost was the balancing factor in this reality-altering spell. This spell wasn’t the only thing in this edition of D&D to use XP as a currency; creating magic items required an expenditure of experience points, for instance. The XP cost may have been a more successful disincentive than a few days of bedrest, but simply marking down a number feels less epic and mythic than suffering from debilitating weakness after channeling untold arcane power through your flimsy mortal frame. Again, a fielder’s choice.
See the full text of wish in the 3rd edition System Reference Document.
4th Edition D&D
Interestingly, wish didn’t appear in 4th edition D&D as a spell in any capacity, though creatures like genies could still grant wishes. To the best of my knowledge, no official explanation for the spell’s controversial removal is available online, but there’s no reason to ignite old edition wars. Broadly speaking, the effects of wish were divvied up among the game’s many rituals. It’s also entirely possible that the reality altering effects of wish were just another way that spellcasting characters were superior to martial characters, and wish was removed in the name of harmonious game balance.
Fifth Edition Dungeons & Dragons
Finally, wish appeared in the fifth edition Player’s Handbook as “the mightiest spell a mortal creature can cast,” though it should be noted that limited wish, which existed in D&D since 1st edition (not counting 4th edition), didn’t appear alongside it’s more powerful cousin. One particular item of note is that this incarnation of wish gives the Dungeon Master guidance on how to adjudicate a player wishing a villain were dead, as opposed to the AD&D version of wish, which gave (identical) advice on how to deal with a player wishing another player out of existence.
This change in advice is emblematic of a broad change in playstyle that took place in the decades separating AD&D 1st edition and fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons. To oversimplify, players were still ostensibly allies in 1st edition, but life was cheap and campaigns with elaborate plots, complete with character development, were rare. Characters were expected to die early, often, and for petty reasons, all of which meant that intra-party conflict wasn’t nearly as taboo as it is today. If none of the characters had favorable odds of surviving a dungeon crawl anyway, what did it matter if a traitorous rogue was killed by an aggrieved party member, rather than a sphere of annihilation?
This version of wish also introduces one interesting new piece of guidance for the DM: “the greater the wish, the greater the likelihood that something goes wrong.” The idea of the magnitude of the wish being linked to the magnitude of its consequences is narratively satisfying, and inherently provides a unique aspect of risk and reward to the casting of wish.
One final new element of the wish rules also serves to keep the power of the spell in line by discouraging uses of wish outside of certain limited parameters. The Experience point cost from 3rd edition is gone, and the “wish fatigue” present in 2nd edition and earlier returns with a burning vengeance, but only if you use wish to create a wholly original effect. Additionally, using wish to create a wholly original effect also comes with a 1-in-3 chance that the caster is “unable to cast wish ever again.” Those are rough odds… but what a magnificent thing if you use wish to alter reality for the better (or for the worse), but you pay the price of never being able to wish again. Now that’s a plot twist!
Adjudicating Player Wishes
Throughout the ages, wish has advised Dungeon Masters to be cunning with their interpretations of player wishes. This is for good reason; allowing players to wish without restraint is essentially the default end of a game of D&D. Anyone who can’t wish would then essentially be a second-class character, and you would be better off moving to a game system like Exalted, where everyone has godlike power. The restrictions placed upon the spell help mitigate this, of course, but allowing the DM to interpret player wishes how they will is, first, in keeping with our myths of trickster genies and double-edged wishes, and also helps DMs maintain a semblance of control over their campaigns.
If I could only give one piece of advice regarding wishing, I would say: always be generous to players that are willing to be generous to you. If the wizards and sorcerers in your game are using wish to enhance your campaign, let their wishes work to everyone’s benefit. However, the inverse is also true. Never be generous to players that are unwilling to be generous to you. If those reality altering dastards want to wreak havoc with your campaign—and it’s making the game less fun for you—let your inner trickster god flourish and twist those wishes however you see fit.
Of course, in the latter scenario, you would probably be better off having a frank, out-of-character conversation with your players than trying to torment them in-character. Talking things out works much better than playing hardball, in my experience.
If you need concrete advice on managing wish, I highly recommend listening to Todd Kenreck’s Todd Talk on the subject; it’s embedded at the top of this article. Beyond that, I have three pieces of advice for DMs struggling to get a handle on wish.
The Law of Equivalent Exchange
To quote Fullmetal Alchemist, “If one wishes to obtain something, something of equal value must be given.” The text of wish promises something similar. “[The] greater the wish, the greater the likelihood that something goes wrong.”
Presumably, this guideline given in the text of the wish spell is just a guideline to help you twist your players’ words to create a double-edged wish. This works perfectly well. However, imagine if casting wish literally required a sacrifice of some sort. Do you know what the caster would exchange in order to see their vision fulfilled? Once you’ve decided, keep this in mind when determining the outcome of the wish, and keep the real consequences of the caster’s actions in your back pocket to reveal when the time is right.
Alternatively, you could propose this question to the caster directly. Maybe a god of fate speaks to the caster at the moment the wish is spoken, and the character must choose their sacrifice up front. To save a loved one’s life, another loved one must die instead. Who will take the fatal blow? Now, the choice is entirely in the caster’s hands. Now, the casting of a wish is more than just a spell or a story beat, but a potential ethical dilemma.
Make it Worth It
Earning the power to cast wish is no simple feat. It is truly the capstone of a wizard’s power, and an achievement in its own right. Let the wizard have their fun with their phenomenal cosmic power for a bit, so long as it doesn’t ruin anyone else’s fun. From a diabolical point of view, this is also to your benefit. Let the caster get comfortable making little wishes with only minor consequences. Then, when they become cocky enough to try and fundamentally rewrite reality, pull the rug out from under them!
Consider the Other Players
Fifth edition D&D isn’t a symmetrically balanced game. Its balance is imperfect and asymmetric, but ultimately, I believe that’s for the best. Wizards and bards and sorcerers are the only people who get to cast wish, and clerics have something similar in their Divine Intervention feature. All eight other classes in D&D have nothing that approaches the sheer versatility and potential power as wish. And, in a vacuum, this is a huge problem.
But we don’t play D&D in a vacuum. There are ways to balance this power. The simplest and most symmetrical (and in my opinion, least interesting) way to balance this is to hand out magic items that grant wishes. A ring of three wishes, or a luck blade, for instance. Then, everyone has the power to alter reality!
Or, consider what the wizard gets out of having a wish. What does it accomplish for them from a character standpoint. Is power all they seek? Is it to bring back a lost loved one? Is it to save their ancestral kingdom? Once you distill the power of wish down to this narrative purpose, you can find a way to balance it. How does a fighter gain the power to fundamentally change the world in the way a wizard can with wish? In a way, they already have it.
For example: a 20th-level bard wishes that the evil king were a toad. The consequence? The evil king’s equally evil daughter rules the evil kingdom instead. However, a 20th-level fighter could stride into the evil king’s throne room and cleave his head off with a clean stroke of her greatsword.
Another example: a 20th-level wizard in the midst of a nation-wide famine wishes that the crops in their country flourished instead of suffering from a disease that year. The consequence, the insects that plagued their crops instead plagues a neighboring realm, which declares war on the kingdom. However, a 20th-level fighter could march into that same neighboring realm, which in this reality is flush with food, and demand a share of it—or take it by force.
The power of a wish is to get the DM to pay attention to your character for a time, and then for the DM to decide how to reward or punish whatever ideas you present. Other classes have that too; they just don’t have rules for it.
What unbelievable wishes have you seen in your game? What have the consequences been, either for the player or for the DM?
James Haeck is the lead writer for D&D Beyond, the co-author of Waterdeep: Dragon Heist and the Critical Role Tal'Dorei Campaign Setting, the DM of Worlds Apart, and a freelance writer for Wizards of the Coast, the D&D Adventurers League, and Kobold Press. He lives in Seattle, Washington with his partner Hannah and their sweet kitties Mei and Marzipan. You can usually find him wasting time on Twitter at @jamesjhaeck.
Hey James, the only time I seen anybody use a wish spell. A teammate wished the party out of Hades. Normally dont play at 20th level, enjoy low to med level play the most.
Thanks James & have a great day.
Only once have I been a DM for a group of characters powerful enough to cast wish. I have seen DMs use wish to the player's disadvantage, but I feel as if that is unfair. Their excuse, usually, is "I'm doing they didn't specify would happen." As in, because the character cast wish, the DM has them fight the villain immediately afterwards, simply because the player didn't say, "The villain doesn't show up and attack us."
I feel as if this is unfair. The player is, yes, rewording reality, but they are not actually changing everything (or they shouldn't be). Thus, I don't try and twist the words of the players. However, I do place limits. (Like them losing HP per amount of reality changed by wish, instead of being weakened. What wizard, bard, or sorcerer would rely on strength anyway?) Also, I sometimes give my villains immunity to being changed by the wish spell.
It's worth pointing out that in some adventures, there are certain things that can only be undone by a wish spell.
I don't know if that happened in other editions, but it feels weird to me. Since it's one of the effects that can result in never casting the spell again, and it severely weakens the wizard, it seems like a cheap shot against the caster.
There actually was Wish in 4e, in the form of a powerful scroll. It came out in one of the last books in the 4e lifespan (Into the Unknown, I believe), along with Power Word, Kill (both spells were SEVERELY nerfed).
I’ve had to deal with two wishes in the entire year of me being a dungeon master. The first a simple wish to change a bad situation. Changed a backstory, character’s stats, and beliefs of one PC. He simply wished to be friends. Another wished for a more...daring wish. A potion to last indefinitely. Now the Goliath who scoured for giant flesh as a sacrifice to his god for belts of giants strength drinks a potion of giant size. He becomes a giant and a hero. But now he is too big to go with his small friends to their home, go to the tavern or other simple things. He now looks for a ring of reducing to use it for temporary resizing issues
I once created a barbarian subclass that could cast wish an infinite amount of times, i played the charachter as an npc, but had i given it to a player, it would have messed my campaign up real good
Let's not be anywhere near coy about things.
Anyone that can't keep up with a full spell slot progression at higher levels IS a second class character unless the DM does a whole lot of work trying to get everyone else to try and keep up.
My friends and I were in the Tomb of Annihilation and the 11th level bard was granted use of a one time use for wish, so he used it to obtain Aceraks phylactery.
I like the 'Equivalent Exchange' idea presented above, to ask your player, after they've described the desired effect, "okay, now what are you willing to sacrifice for it?" is a really good way of raising the stakes for the character/player. Note that the question is pretty neutral but makes it explicit that there is a price to pay for the casting and that the price is on the player to choose (like a lot of things playing RPGs, talk it out with your player/s if there's issues or questions that need sorting out. When a character gains access to the Wish spell, you should make the Law of Exchange known then so there's no surprise). A character's willingness to sacrifice is a great avenue for roleplay.
I think a lot of people overlook the utility of Wish's ability to cast most other spells. Many high-level spells (and plenty of low level ones) have long casting times or material component costs that your party might not have available when you need them most. Finding enough diamonds to cast a Resurrection spell has been a plot in and of itself in some games I've played, and I've DMed a party who were able to save the King from assassins by wishing a Simulacrum (normal casting time: 12 hours) as an action, facilitating an escape.
Creative use of spells is my go-to motivation for playing a caster of any type, Wish is the biggest 'clutch' spell of them all.
Awesome!
When I ran Tomb of Annihilation, I decided in advance that Acererak's phyactery would be the entire planet of Athas, in case it ever came up. Good thing your Bard friend wasn't playing in my campaign. That wish would have been MESSY.
Well written. Thank you again, James!
Was in a 1st edition campaign setting where wishes were relatively common (compared to most campaigns), but also had a fairly decent rule set behind them. We were also pretty good about not abusing them, checking in with the DM, etc.
There were 3 types of wishes. Spell/scroll wishes (least powerful), ring/genie wishes, and god wishes.
Spell wishes were very limited (as wishes go). Undo an event in the last few hours, bring a character back to life after they died, replicate a spell, gain a piece of knowledge. A good example of a spell wish was a character who wish to have the ability to know where an available magic item he desired was located. He still had to go get it (which was an adventure all its own). We used them as a tool to gain knowledge primarily. And to rez folks mid battle (it was a harsh place, people died a lot).
Ring wishes were more potent. You could raise a stat by 1 point, undo some past events, get access to a magic item (more directly, 'I wish the next encounter we fight has a monster with a flameblade'), gain XP (dont remember the value, but it was never more than 1 point less then you needed to level up.), etc. I think someone once asked for psionics (he got to roll on the table)
God wishes were obviously the most powerful and the most rare. I only saw one used and it was used to allow a character to change her profession and skills (I think she swapped her class from Ranger to Fighter or maybe did a dual class of some kind....long time ago) and shuffle the characters stats.
My point is this. Wishes can add a lot to the game and if you have a good group don't require monkey's paw bullshit to limit them. A good group can manage itself (with the DM's help) you don't need to get vengeful.
My rule of thumb as a GM, adjudicating wish spells for 40+ years, is the party's intent. If the party is using the wish to fix something, save something, create something positive, then the "positive forces of the universe" answer the spells call and the spell generally goes as planned. Bring someone back from the dead, save the party from imminent failure, undo some tragedy, etc.
If the party is using it for less-than-good purposes, such as greed, wrath, gluttony, etc, then less-good forces in the universe are the ones that supply the magic and the results will also lean towards the negative. "Give me a million gold pieces!" will result in all 1,000,000 gold falling from the sky, each doing 1hp dmg to everyone in the area, or appearing inside of them and causing them to explode, or the party is teleported into someone's huge vault where there are a million gold for them to claim, now they just have to get out. Etc.
I don't reward douchy greed or asshattery in my games so any wish with that intent gets lawyered to death :) Back in my day we had to write wishes down on legal pads and review them for weeks before submitting them to the GM as a formal wish :)
yours is a popular model, and I respect it. But I don't understand it.
People do things for greed all the time in D&D. The entire premise of campaigns back in the day was to level up, get magic items, kill cool monsters together, and gain power. Sure, there was some RP, but like the article says, 1st edition was not RP heavy. Even in 5E it is one of the implicit goals. If it wasn't we would not have levels or magic items or treasure hoards. People use magic spells to accomplish this all the time. do you punish your players for killing a BBEG with fireball or a sword if one of their goals is to gain treasure? If that's the case, why is Wish different. Using your example, if a player asked for 10gp, would you grant it? 100? 1000? When it is greedy?
IMO a much much much better way to handle this is for the players and the DM to work out guidelines and stay within them. If the DM thinks a wish is too much, let the players know so they can tweak the wording. Or just tell the players to be general in their request and the magic will do its best to make it happen. (think of it as a reverse monkey's paw). This puts the impact in the hands of the DM, the wish won't adversely impact the campaign, the player will get at least some of what they want, and it will not create an adversarial interaction with the DM. Using my example above, if a player wishes to get a magic item, maybe a wish at your tables doesn't grant it to them, it just tells them where to go to get one. Or it tells them who would be willing to trade theirs and for what. Or it just gives the player the materials to make the item but they have to find someone to make it. Or it just gives them the item. If someone wants an item so bad that they have a 1 in 3 chance of never being able to cast it again....well maybe they should be rewarded for taking that risk.
Just food for thought.
Actually I was RP-heavy back in '76 when I started, because my very first game was with my drama club folks :) As I like to say, "I was running Mercer-style games years before Matt was born" :P
The concept is simple...the role of the GM is to create logical limitations, rules, reality, etc. Without a GM, it's basically cowboys and indians where everyone gets to say they're bulletproof and nothing gets done. The player says "I want to do this" and the GM determines if they can, or if they should be allowed to. Technically the players CAN run up and murder the king, but there are consequences that may be somewhat deleterious to the party and to the game overall. The GM is rules and consequences.
Not all players are cut-throat murder hobos who are out to screw the world and the GM in order to profit...and I have none of those in my games. It's established up front, before my game even starts, my expectations of the players and what they can expect from me. Honestly, not establishing these types of expectations up front is the #1 reason I see games failing, but that's a different issue.
If the player casting the wish is doing so in a positive manner, then the outcome will be positive. If you're using wish to get 10gp then I'd happily give it to you because that is within the text of the spell. If you're using it to duplicate an existing spell effect, again no issues, the text covers that. Go outside the stated text and you get "The GM has great latitude in ruling what occurs in such an instance; the greater the wish, the greater the likelihood that something goes wrong." If you try to screw my game, I'm going to screw you, it's that simple. It won't be random, I'll be quite clear about it, but I've 40+ years of lawyering stupid wishes. :)
i gave my paladin steed human hands.
I dunno. I guess that you would be conjuring an effect or a change in the space/time continuim. Or something.
(Shoot, I am bad at spelling)
I really like this and while I don't play by the book I think I may introduce an 'equivalent exchange' ability. Forcing my players to give up a minor or major power, ability or even companion for the success would be a great plot twist to segue from one plot point to another in my My Hero Academia homebrew, thanks for the article!
I'm sure I'll regret asking this, but . . . why?
Again, I respect our thought process and model, but I disagree with some of it.
From my PoV, a DM/player relationship should be a collaboration first and foremost. The DM is the ultimate arbiter of the rules, but the DM and player(s) should work together to work within the framework of the rules (both RAW and table). Everyone at the table should be able to voice their opinion and ideas on rules interpretations (not during play, but offline, and in a respectful manner). That includes wishes. A player should understand the DMs thought process, and the DM should listen to a players wishes (no pun intended) and where differences of opinion occur should work together to find a solution. This assumes everyone is a respectful adult of course. If someone (player or DM) is being a dick, thats another issue). And if you get to a point where you need to agree to disagree, the player should accept the final ruling with grace. House rules are important and need to be respected(although if a player approached me offline about why a house rules existed and wanted to discuss it I would absolutely do so) , but if something is new and/or novel, I have always found it is always better to work with players (or DMs!) to hash out something that makes sense to everyone.
Maybe this is because most of my playing/DMing has been with people I know and respect. Perhaps my opjinion would be different if I played in a lot of pick up or AL league games. But I don't think so.
As for the other points you made, I really dislike the murder hobo idiom, it is far too broad and overused in the community. It means different things to different people, thus it doesn't really mean anything. But I do agree that there are players and groups that ignore consequences and that it is an issue. I never played in campaigns like that, but I have heard plenty of stories. However there is a huge difference in my mind between ignoring consequences and simply wanting to progress as a character. If your character has gotten to a level where they have a wish (scroll, ring, spell, etc), they should be able to use it to acquire power if that is their goal. Wehther than be a landed title, a magic item, money, information or whatever. all of it is power. In the end, the expression of and acquisition of power is a core element of D&D. As long as it doesn't harm the campaign, cause balance issues in the game, upset other players, or cause trules issues at the table, and as long as the players are willing to deal with the consequences of their acitons, I really feel like Wishes (and any other way players want to exert and acquire power to further their goals) should be a good thing.
Treating wishes like monkey's paws or punishing players for using them smacks too much of the old 1st edition rules I despised (item saving throws, system shock, save or die).