This game is one of my favorites of all time. I’d say it’s easily in my top twenty games – no easy feat, since I usually find open-world games repugnant.
In fact, I tried playing it long before I settled in and played it start to finish. I was immediately inundated with a horde of characters who acted as if I should already know who they were. By the time I got to the part where I could freely explore the world, I was already overwhelmed. Letting me loose to explore the land as I pleased only made me feel more anxious. So, I stopped playing then and there.
Something about the experience must have captured my imagination, though. Since I was miffed that I learned little about the characters other than their names and a bit about their relationships with Geralt, I decided that I should be better prepared if I ever tried playing it again. That’s when I vowed that I would read the books before I went back to the game.
Then years went by. (I’ve got tons of practice at saying I’ll do something and then never doing it. It’s something I’m super good at.) I didn’t really think about it again until the first season of the Netflix series was announced. And suddenly, I was determined to read the books and play this game before the show debuted.
What ensued was a months-long quest to read everything from The Last Wish to Season of Storms. Between the first few books in the series, I read other, random books to keep from burning myself out. By the end of the series, though, I was reading the books back-to-back. Not because I was running out of time before the show came out… No, the books had me completely captivated.
This was a little strange to me. After reading The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings series a couple of years prior and finding it to be a miserable experience (yes, I hate The Lord of the Rings books – fight me, Tolkien nerds), I had avoided fantasy books and, more broadly, book series altogether. So, to find myself completely infatuated with this fantasy series I had only heard of through video game news articles and wanting more and more of it left me dumbstruck. From the first two books (that are filled with monsters and action and sex but were still able to contain some depth) to The Lady of the Lake (whose narrative structure resembles a Russian nesting doll, with each layer showing another step in Ciri’s path to become the most powerful Witcher in history), I was in for the ride completely. I was thrilled, I laughed, and, though it’s been a few years and my memory is hazy, I probably bawled like a little baby in the end.
Anyway, as I mentioned before, after the final book in the series, I wanted more. Luckily, there was The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt waiting for me in my Steam library. And, this time, I was ready.
My god, this game. I can’t describe what it felt like to finally see these characters that I had spent months reading about brought to life to continue their adventures. To say I was moved would undersell the way I felt the first time I hopped onto Roach and galloped through the hills of Velen. This game was completely engrossing for hundreds of hours and it’s something that I’ll never forget.
However, there is something even more important that my experience with The Witcher has done for me: I’ve discovered a love for fantasy, and I’ve been more open to reading book series. (Serieses? Seri? Whatever.) Since my time spent with Geralt and the rest of the crew, I’ve read both The First Law series by Joe Abercrombie and The Expanse by James S. A. Corey – two series I never would have even considered reading if it wasn’t for The Witcher. Hell, I even got a tattoo of Geralt’s magic signs down my forearm a couple of weeks ago.
As you can probably tell, this game means a great deal to me. I can’t do anything besides recommend it. (And the book series, obviously.)
But I think the most important thing to take a way from this review is this: The Lord of the Rings fucking sucks, guys. Guys: it’s boring as hell. It’s just sooooo shitty, guys. The Witcher makes The Lord of the Rings its bitch. Do you know what I do when I can’t sleep? I turn on The Lord of the Rings and I slip into a coma out of pure boredom. If I was trapped on a deserted island with only The Lord of the Rings, I’d let myself get eaten by sharks. The Lord of the Rings is so dumb, it might as well be yo momma…
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Edit: I thought I should mention that this is my 100th review on Steam, so I wanted it to be something special. I hope you found it worthwhile. Don't worry - I'll be back to talking about boobs and farts again with the next one. Anyway, congrats to me! 🥳