Witcher 3 It Takes Three To Tango

Ever played a game where you feel like you're the only sane person in a world gone completely bananas? Well, buckle up buttercup, because The Witcher 3 is about to introduce you to a quest that redefines the meaning of "chaotic good."

The Ballad of the Botchling

Let's set the stage. You're Geralt of Rivia, a monster hunter with Geralt-y problems. Namely, a baron with some serious family drama. And by drama, I mean a missing wife and daughter, and oh yeah, a baby turned into a vengeful spirit called a Botchling.

Instead of just hacking and slashing (though, let’s be real, Geralt does enjoy that), you get a different option: turn the Botchling into a Lubberkin, a guardian spirit. Because who needs therapy when you can have monster transformation, right?

Enter the Three Amigos (Minus One Sanity Point)

This is where the "It Takes Three to Tango" part kicks in. To perform this ritual, you need three… well, let's just say "willing" participants. The kind of willing where one is a grunting, spectral fetus.

First, there's you, Geralt. The grumpy babysitter, always complaining but secretly loving the monster-related challenges.

Second, you have the Baron. Picture a guy who's seen better days, carrying around enough guilt to sink a small ship. He's as emotionally stable as a Jenga tower after a cat jumps on it.

And finally, our star: the Botchling. A tiny, wailing ball of spite. Think of it as a perpetually cranky toddler, but with the ability to induce nightmares. Charming.

The World's Most Uncomfortable Road Trip

The quest turns into a bizarre road trip. You, the Baron, and the Botchling need to reach a specific spot for the ritual. Cue the mental image of a medieval clown car filled with existential dread.

The Baron, bless his heart, is trying to be a good dad. He's attempting to soothe the Botchling, which mostly involves rambling about his regrets and failures. Talk about awkward.

Geralt, meanwhile, is just trying to keep everyone alive and sane-ish. Which, in this situation, is a Herculean task. Imagine trying to mediate a fight between a crying baby and someone who's currently reliving their worst life choices. Yeah, fun times.

The Ritual of Mild Annoyance (and Maybe a Little Magic)

Finally, you reach the ritual spot. The Baron lays the Botchling down. You, with your Witcher magic, start chanting the ancient words.

At this point, anything could happen. Will the ritual work? Will the Botchling decide to eat everyone's faces off? Will the Baron spontaneously combust from sheer emotional turmoil?

Spoiler alert: it (mostly) works. The Botchling transforms into a Lubberkin, a guardian spirit who sticks around to protect the Baron's remaining daughter. Sort of a heartwarming conclusion to a deeply unsettling quest.

Why It's So Great

It’s the absurdity of it all. The quest is a perfect blend of dark fantasy, genuine emotion, and slapstick comedy.

It throws you into a situation so strange, so inherently awkward, that you can't help but laugh. It's a reminder that even in the grim world of The Witcher, there's always room for a little bit of darkly humorous weirdness.

And let's be honest, turning a murderous infant into a slightly less murderous guardian spirit? That's just good parenting. Witcher style, of course.