CD Projekt Red’s The Witcher 3 came crashing into my life when I was 18. Seriously, it was like a lightning bolt or something, smacking me and every other fantasy RPG geek over the head with its awesomeness. Everything was there: wild open-world, characters that felt like actual people, and choices that, yeah, sorta haunted me later.
Here’s the thing—I dove into The Witcher 3 without really knowing what I was getting myself into. Didn’t play the first two games and my knowledge of the lore? Not great. I mean, sure, I got the basics down: magic, swords, monsters. The usual. All I wanted was to be Geralt, the monster-slaying hero, searching for Ciri with my lover Yennefer. Yennefer—who, let’s be honest, thought I was an idiot, but, like, in a romantic way.
Spoiler alert—I ended up making some questionable choices. And by questionable, I mean, well, kinda dumb. Especially when I met Keira Metz.
So, Keira Metz. She’s from this secret club of sorceresses. Fancy stuff, right? Except she’s been booted out, desperate to get back to a life of luxury. Basically, she thinks sucking up to King Radovid—an anti-magic jerk—is her ticket back to high society. Does that make sense? Sort of?
I kinda got why she did it. I mean, who wants to live with bed bugs forever, right? But making a deal with Radovid? Ehhh, sketchy. But, thinking she had everything under control, I let her go for it.
Fast forward 30+ hours of gameplay. I forgot all about Keira. Got caught up in other stuff, made some shoddy decisions—stuff happens, y’know? Until, in Novigrad during a quest, reality checked me. Triss drops the bomb that Keira’s plan went south, and she ended up burned at the stake. Oof.
There it was. A Keira-sized void in my heart. And sneaking her body out with Triss? Gut-wrenching. The game nailed it, making every character’s fate impactful. That’s why it’s still one of my all-time favorites.
And what did I learn? Maybe trust beautiful women most of the time and definitely save the game. A lot. Could save—literally—a virtual life.
