My mollycoddled current gen sensibilities had suffered their first test, even though I was playing the Enhanced Edition: Director’s Cut, blessed with improved voice acting and graphics. And, to top it all, Geralt looked younger – perhaps an unfair barb, I know – and far less sexy he looks like Geralt from The Witcher 3 crossed with actress Claire Danes. The Witcher 3’s contracts may have been formulaic, but they were laced with compelling narratives that placed them a cut above The Witcher’s collect-a-thon side tasks. I immediately balked at the click-heavy rhythmic combat, and the weird sword stances that seemed straight out of a budget version of Nioh. In hopes of erasing them so I could get closer to finding my answer, I installed The Witcher 1, the place it all started for videogame Geralt, but did so with considerable trepidation.ĭespite my earnest attempts to be patient with The Witcher’s dated idiosyncrasies, my first couple of hours with the game were beset with bugs: I had to reload the game at a rate of what felt like every ten minutes to counter all the times the camera got stuck. As I grew up with PlayStation and, since The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings only came to the Xbox 360, I certainly had my blind spots when it came to the series. The Witcher 3 was my first taste of Andrzej Sapkowski’s universe, which started with his 1993 novel, The Last Wish. Other huge games, including Titanfall 2, Overwatch, and Dishonored 2, came and went as I stubbornly spent my time hoovering up question marks in The Witcher 3, and then starting it all over again in New Game+.
The Witcher 3 is thick with it the personality, nuance, and attention to detail threading it all together. Nevertheless, it captivated me with something intangible: atmosphere. And, with an overused Witcher Sense – a mechanic originating from the widely borrowed Detective Mode from the Batman Arkham series – mission structures became repetitive. Potions and decoctions might have made all the difference on tougher difficulties, but combat was a touch shallow, overall. That said, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt – and the strong feelings it evoked – was always more than the sum of its parts. Ticking off every last question mark on the map and mourning each as it passed fulfilled wanderlust but also felt like a cleansing, all at once. Voyages across oceans, vast mountains, and bucolic forests in-between jobs stole as much time from me as the sprawling quests themselves, becoming the backdrop for all manner of distractions and extracurricular hikes. From that point, I conducted my adventure at the glacial pace of a Spikeroog iceberg, slowly sipping rather than drinking in the world of the Northern Kingdoms like a fine Sangreal vintage. I was hooked as soon as the near-peerless Bloody Baron quest began to unravel all its knotty, grim details – like many other players, I assume.
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