THE WORLD MOST OPEN TO ALL
~: HALL OF FAME :~
You won’t often see a game this flawed earn a place in my Hall of Fame. Yet somehow, those flaws are part of The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt’s character—much like the scars that define its protagonist, Geralt of Rivia. Amid technical hiccups and cumbersome menus, the game continues to enchant me, year after year, with chilling tales that make me long for the warm glow of a campfire.
Based on the works of Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski, The Witcher 3 hides a wealth of obscure folklore beneath its tapestry of open-world fantasy tropes. Every quest, character, and location carries its own story. You scour storm-lashed forests and bustling cities—down to their undead-infested sewers. You fight through fetid marshlands, loot war-ravaged villages, and descend into caves haunted by restless spirits.
Everything you do feels meaningful—not just on a mechanical level, but in a more esoteric sense. Each session contributes to a sweeping narrative about a world torn apart by war. Nations devour nations, brother turns against brother, and monsters prey eagerly on human corruption. Few games can rival The Witcher 3 in the sheer breadth and memorability of its cast. Yet exploring the humanity within them—however frail, depraved, or noble—always leads to a monster preying on their traits.
At the center of it all is the story of Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri—an unconventional family fighting to reunite. You once again step into the boots of Geralt of Rivia (voiced by Doug Cockle), also known as the White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, and one of the last Witchers of the Wolf School. Tasked by the Nilfgaardian emperor Emhyr var Emreis (Charles Dance), Geralt must track down the emperor’s long-lost daughter, Ciri (Jo Wyatt).
The reward is irrelevant. Ciri is also Geralt’s foster daughter. Haunted by visions of the Wild Hunt—masked riders from another dimension who are also hunting her—Geralt sets out alongside his on-again, off-again lover Yennefer of Vengerberg (Denise Gough), who considers herself Ciri’s stepmother. Time is short. The world is vast. Every step forward reveals new conflicts, new choices, and consequences that ripple outward in unpredictable ways. You’re left wondering whether your interventions made the world better—or simply different.
As a Witcher, Geralt earns his keep by accepting monster contracts. These hunts are among the game’s most intricate and rewarding side activities. Acting as a detective, he interviews witnesses, follows clues using his enhanced Witcher senses, and prepares meticulously—brewing potions, applying oils, and choosing the right tools for the job. Only then does he lure the creature from hiding.
Combat is a fluid, action-driven dance of quick strikes, spells, dodges, and parries, punctuated by heavy blows, bombs, and crossbow bolts. Geralt feels responsive—especially in the PlayStation 5 performance mode—and combat shines brightest on higher difficulties, where preparation and alchemy become essential. On “Death March,” every encounter is potentially lethal.
The bestiary is a grotesque gallery rooted in Slavic folklore. Ghouls haunt fresh battlefields, drawn by the stench of decay. Wrongs committed in life give rise to vengeful wraiths. Ancient forest spirits prey on superstition and fear. Visually, monsters like the towering Leshen or the insidious Hym are unforgettable—equal parts myth and nightmare. Human foes and non-human rebels provide contrast, reinforcing why a Witcher carries two swords- .
My own journey with The Witcher 3 was a swift road to reverence. In spite of its length—finishing a playthrough in under 100 hours is hard—I've replayed it numerous times. I first played it shortly after release in 2015, after rushing through the first two entries, and the leap in quality was staggering. CD Projekt Red’s growth over just three games may be one of the most impressive developer evolutions the industry has seen.
The original The Witcher (2007) brimmed with ambition but was hampered by clunky execution. The Witcher 2 (2011) refined the formula, sacrificing scale for focus. Then The Witcher 3 arrived and surpassed both—instantly becoming my favorite game of all time. Drawing inspiration from Skyrim’s freedom and Dragon Age: Origins’ narrative intimacy, CD Projekt Red fused both into a singular, expansive vision. Dynamic weather, a haunting score, and richly detailed environments brought the Continent to life.
The result is a holistic experience few games have matched. Its influence reshaped the open-world genre, for better or worse. While others struggled to keep pace, The Witcher 3 stood apart—not because it was flawless, but because it dared to be vast, personal, and uncompromising.
Yes, its leveling systems are uneven. Horse controls are frustrating. Menus are cumbersome. Some boss fights reveal awkward hit detection. Even the excellent Novigrad arc overstays its welcome. Yet these shortcomings fade against the scale and ambition of the whole.
At its best, the writing surpasses expectations for the medium. The “Bloody Baron” questline remains one of gaming’s finest—handling themes of abuse, guilt, and moral ambiguity with rare nuance. Its villains are disturbing, its setting oppressive, and its consequences unforgettable.
The attention to detail extends to visual storytelling. Villages tell stories without words. Quests can fail if you hesitate. Lives continue—or end—without you. The world does not wait, and that indifference gives it weight.
Role-playing choices are subtle but powerful. Geralt himself is fixed, yet how you express his values—mercy or brutality, pragmatism or compassion—shapes the world. The game resists moral binaries, urging you to live with your decisions. Don’t save-scum. Own the consequences. Tragedy can elevate an ending as much as triumph.
After the credits roll, the world is hard to leave. White Orchard eases you in, but Velen opens the floodgates, revealing maps upon maps, each brimming with purpose. Even the act of returning to Kaer Morhen feels like coming home—nostalgic, bittersweet, earned.
That, ultimately, is The Witcher 3’s greatest achievement. It marries the intimate and the epic in a way few developers manage. With unforgettable characters, evocative music, macabre storytelling, and a continent that feels truly alive, it offers something for every kind of player.
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