There’s nothing like going for a nice long walk around the world of The Witcher 3 and meeting some of the locals there. They say the nicest things. “Sod off, you misborn clod,” a guard will tell me. “Got so fucked up once, blood came out me ears,” a chap at the docks will announce. Or if I’m really lucky, “Go fuck your mums tits!” What a world to live in.
The thing is, I love this about the game. Being scolded by the ruddy-faced inhabitants of The Witcher 3 has long been one of my favourite things, ever since I first played it eight years ago. Even now, it manages to make me laugh. I’ll load it up and a villager will walk past, fart and giggle, and I’ll giggle too. I can’t help it.
Maybe it’s the abrupt delivery that tickles me, maybe it’s the shock factor, or maybe it’s just the sheer silliness of it all. Maybe it’s all of it. Whatever it is, it makes the world of The Witcher 3 stand out to me. It makes it special. I cannot think of another game that does it in the same way.
