The Mighty Nein Know Magic Better Than Most D&D Players

If you’ve seen Critical Role’s animated adaptation The Legend of Vox Machina, you know the show frequently prioritizes tone over technicalities. Even though the series springs from Dungeons & Dragons — a rules-driven game — Vox Machina often leaves spellcasting mechanics vague, choosing instead to let magic reflect each character’s personality. Scanlan’s theatrics are the clearest example, but Keyleth and Pike also cast in ways that say more about who they are than about rules on a page.

The Mighty Nein, by contrast, treats magic with deliberate specificity. Where Vox Machina leans on impression, The Mighty Nein digs into how magic differs across Wildemount — by region, by patron, and by class — and the series actually shows the nuts and bolts of spellcasting more faithfully than many tabletop groups do.

Ed note. Spoilers ahead for The Mighty Nein episodes 1–3.

Most D&D players have a working sense of spellcasting basics: concentration matters, Haste is invaluable for martial allies, and so on. But components — the physical and verbal elements required to cast many spells — are commonly overlooked at the table.

In D&D, components fall into three categories: verbal (the incantations), somatic (the gestures), and material (specific items consumed or held during casting). Some spells need only one type, others two or all three. Material components in particular are easy to ignore — they’re often a bookkeeping nuisance, not a storytelling tool — yet they can add tangible texture to the act of casting.

Tracking components can feel burdensome. Spellcasters already juggle spell slots, prepared spells, modifiers, items, hit points, armor class, and weaponry. It’s tempting to skip the material minutiae and just describe the effect. Still, paying attention to components can deepen immersion — a point Forgotten Realms creator Ed Greenwood illustrates in this entertaining and informative video about spellcasting:

Most playgroups default to cinematic magic — gestures, flash, boom — without much procedural detail. The Mighty Nein, however, leans into the rules. Early in the series we meet Caleb Widogast (voiced by Liam O’Brien), a wizard whose skill with verbal and somatic casting is clear, but whose lack of funds and fugitive status make sourcing material components a constant struggle. Caleb improvises with dirt, hay and — in one cringe-worthy moment — bodily waste. It’s crude, but effective, and it underscores the real-world friction of casting under duress.

Material components in the show are fleeting. One poignant moment in episode one sees Caleb attempt Find Familiar to summon Frumpkin, the ginger cat tied to his past. When he fails to sustain the spell, the familiar vanishes and the component is expended — a small loss that carries real emotional weight.

Caleb’s component shortages are a short-term plot point, but they also highlight a larger question the series raises: does access to magic depend on wealth? For a character like Caleb, poverty forces desperate choices — theft, risky gambits — that entangle magic with socioeconomic realities. In tabletop campaigns, adventurers often amass coin with ease, but The Mighty Nein uses scarcity to make casting feel consequential.

Compare Caleb’s improvisational casting with Jester Lavorre (Laura Bailey) and Fjord Stone. Jester’s power is theologically rooted: she channels magic through belief in the Traveler, a deity only she seems to recognize. To others her prayers might look like conversations with an imaginary friend, but the Traveler’s influence is real and narratively effective.

Fjord, meanwhile, acquires his abilities through a pact with a leviathan-like patron after a near-drowning. His magic manifests as dark energy and teleportation, and the show subtly ties the effect to his maritime past by trailing water droplets when he reappears — a small visual detail that reinforces origin and theme.

The Mighty Nein’s commitment to differentiating how magic operates — by origin, by means, and by consequence — makes its world feel richer. Critical Role promised to elevate magic’s role in this series, and the result is a portrayal that rewards attention to detail. After watching, I’m tempted to start tracking components at my table again, because their inclusion can meaningfully enhance narrative texture.

Source: Polygon