WITCHING FOR SOME ANSWERS
One can hardly accuse CD Projekt Red of taking the easy way out when following up their surprise debut hit The Witcher. Even before the first installment hit store shelves, they began work on a new proprietary toolset—the REDengine—to better accommodate their storytelling ambitions. They hired trained filmmakers to improve direction and pacing, and with the release of The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings in 2011, they finally got their money’s worth.
The result is an ambitious, cinematic role-playing experience where world aesthetics, soundscape, character models, and animation coalesce into a cohesive whole. It is set within a grim fairy-tale universe steeped in political intrigue, betrayal, and moral compromise.
It remains such a technical landmark that its impact is still palpable today. The Witcher 2 helped push the industry forward in meaningful ways. The one thing holding it back now is a lack of emotional payoff. By leaning so heavily on player choice and branching narrative paths, the story never quite converges into the gut-punch you might expect. I left the game deeply impressed—but not especially moved. CD Projekt Red, it seems, saved that for their later masterpiece, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt.
MONSTERS IN COURT
The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings is a textbook middle chapter. Darker, grittier, and deliberately unresolved, it builds toward larger conflicts rather than tying things off neatly. You once again control Geralt of Rivia (voiced by Doug Cockle), the stoic, white-haired monster slayer of dubious reputation. After saving the life—and reign—of King Foltest of Temeria in the first game, Geralt now serves as the king’s personal bodyguard.
Alongside his lover Triss Merigold (Jules deJongh), who also acts as a royal advisor, Geralt accompanies Foltest during the siege of Castle La Valette, rumored to shelter the king’s illegitimate twin children.
The game opens in the aftermath of that disastrous siege. Geralt is imprisoned and tortured, falsely accused of regicide. The events surrounding that day are slowly reconstructed through flashbacks, framed by the interrogation of Geralt by Temerian special agent Vernon Roche (Mark Healy). By earning Roche’s trust, Geralt escapes captivity and sets out into the Pontar Valley in search of the true assassin.
To fully grasp the scope of the story, one playthrough is not enough. The narrative unfolds across a three-act structure, made far more intricate by decisions that dramatically alter the course of the first act. These choices are rarely moral in the traditional sense; instead, they are political. As a result, the second act can take place in one of two entirely different regions, each featuring unique maps, quests, characters, and thematic focus.
This philosophy of choice extends to gameplay as well. Combat has been streamlined into a more action-oriented system, with bombs, traps, ranged weapons, and a properly balanced magic system expanding the alchemical toolkit. The elegant three-pronged skill tree—filled with hidden synergies—turns every level-up into a meaningful decision, allowing players to shape Geralt into something truly their own.
This breadth greatly enhances replayability, but complicates the task of reviewing the game. How do you evaluate something when a single playthrough omits so much? Ultimately, there is only one honest answer: you can only review your own experience. I have completed The Witcher 2 twice, four years apart, choosing different allegiances and builds. I can safely say it excels regardless of how you approach it.
ACTION COMBAT AT LAST
Much of the excitement centers on REDengine’s new action-driven combat. Geralt can withstand only a handful of hits, forcing reliance on reflexes, preparation, and intelligent use of magical signs. Before each encounter, you are encouraged to assess your surroundings and anticipate what lies ahead.
When preparation pays off—such as drinking the right antidote before an insectoid battle and surviving by a sliver—it feels immensely satisfying. Enemy design varies in size and behavior, though the variety of monster species is somewhat limited. Much of your time is instead spent fighting humanoid opponents: soldiers, elves, dwarves, and mercenaries.
Combat unfolds as a dance of acrobatics, timing, and spell effects. You must learn enemy patterns and create openings rather than waiting for them. This makes certain boss encounters especially memorable: the massive tentacled creature in the Flotsam river delta, capable of killing you outright if you’re unprepared; or the end boss of the first chapter, which neatly tests everything you’ve learned so far. Until mastery sets in, combat can feel punishing, even unfair. In that sense, The Witcher 2 is very much the “Dark Souls” of the Witcher saga.
FEEL THE WORLD CLOSING IN
Where the first Witcher showed promise but felt rough, The Witcher 2 opts for quality over scale. It is more focused and restrained than both its predecessor and successor, and that focus gives it a distinct identity. The compact, maze-like maps mirror the political complexity of the narrative. Side quests are fewer but denser, often resembling investigative puzzles rather than checklist tasks—and some even lack map markers entirely, forcing careful observation.
Despite its bleak tone, the world feels alive. Settlements are logically constructed, with palisades protecting oppressed populations from the horrors beyond—and sometimes within. NPCs follow daily routines, discuss political tensions, and hint at Witcher contracts through overheard conversations. Mini-games like dice poker, arm wrestling, and fistfighting add texture rather than distraction.
Every character model is unique, rendered with astonishing attention to detail. Major characters receive special care, and I often found myself equipping Geralt with different jackets simply to admire the craftsmanship. That same attention extends to the writing. No one in the Pontar Valley is wholly virtuous or entirely corrupt, and this moral ambiguity makes the world feel unstable and unpredictable.
Moments of warmth are rare. When Geralt and Triss briefly escape the intrigue for a raunchy encounter in an ancient elven bath, the contrast underscores just how joyless this world has become.
A SINGLE FLAW AND FLAWLESS SUMMARY
Apart from minor issues—clunky inventory management, interface quirks, and a handful of confusing quests—my chief criticism lies with the story’s resolution. After an exceptional prologue and first act, the narrative becomes overly fragmented. Curiosity remains high, but emotional investment wanes. The optional twenty-minute dialogue dump at the end, designed to explain unresolved plot threads, feels like an emergency measure rather than elegant storytelling.
Still, The Witcher 2 represents a superb fusion of gameplay and narrative ambition. By reducing map scale, CD Projekt Red paradoxically makes the world feel larger. The focused environments allow for meticulous world-building, evocative sound design, and striking vistas that hint at a broader world beyond reach.
Geralt cannot go everywhere he sees—but that limitation feels appropriate. The urgency of the story demands momentum. As Geralt’s memories return piece by piece, the world opens up conceptually, culminating in the total freedom that defines The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt. The structure mirrors character growth. With his past restored, Geralt becomes whole.
Fate, perhaps, places us all within certain boundaries, and all we can do is make the best of them. For the fortunate few at CD Projekt Red, those boundaries seem to stretch endlessly. Their growth across just three games is remarkable. Stay tuned for my review of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt. It once was my favorite game—and who knows? It might just reclaim that title.
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