Oh, achievements. The very concept of them has evolved games to a much higher level than they ever previously were. Gone are the days of spinning white lies about all the amazing things you have accomplished in games now that there is a nice and neat record. If you’re like me and have set out on a conquest or two to prove to that snotty achievement hunter friend of yours that even you could get a platinum trophy in a game they either can’t or unwilling to, then you too understand the struggle of impossibly hard trophies that prevent you from getting that blasted 100% completed mark.
Ever since the introduction of achievements through the Xbox 360 followed up by PlayStation 3 with its Trophies equivalent, games has never been the same. Now days it’s not enough just to complete the storyline of a game to say you completed it, nor is it enough to do all the side activities, but now you must literally run through a list of varying requirements to attain a platinum trophy and be able to truly say you have completely beaten a game to its full extent. I’m not complaining here, as I truly do enjoy trophies, I enjoy scrolling through my friend’s list comparing trophy sets and rubbing it in a good friends face when I have a higher percentage than they do, even if it is by a single trophy.
The ability to brag about how you’re much better than they are at their favorite game (even if really you’re not very good at the game at all) just because you have a trophy or two more is a pure delight. Nevertheless, when a journey to complete a game either to rub it in a friend’s face or just to be able to say you’ve completed every single thing possible to do in the The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, is cut short by a single trophy, it’s a truly madding experience. That is exactly what happened to me on my quest to achieve perfect trophy attendance with The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, as I wasted days, weeks, heck even months, chipping away at this monster of a game. It wasn’t until I started my attempt at acquiring the dreaded Qwent trophies that my quest screeched to an utter halt, as the game followed to pick up a rubber steak and smack me across the face with it as it shouted out “got yah!”
To be more specific, this particular Gwent trophy went by the name of “Gwent Master” and surely enough, I was not one. You see in order to obtain this trophy you must defeat Tybalt and win the Gwent tournament held at the Passiflora. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong! Not only do you need to build a strong enough deck and have a firm understanding of this optional side activity that the game tries to shove in your face every time you interact with a character, but you also have to not suck at it. For if you either don’t understand Gwent or have a deck powerful enough to compete against some pretty tough NPCs, you will lose fast and you absolutely cannot lose a single match of this tournament. What happens if you lose a lousy match, you may ask? Well if you lose a match then you fail the quest and if you fail the quest and don’t have back up save files, like some people, meaning me specifically, then the only way to attempt obtaining this trophy and completing your platinum run is by starting a new game and working you way all the way back to the tournament quest. Which wouldn’t be so bad if this game wasn’t entitled The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, arguably one of the largest most dense games to release in video game history.
That’s not even the worst part; the worst part is seeing it there, 99% complete, constantly reminding you of your utter failure to obtain the last and final trophy for the 100% completion mark. Every time you enter your trophies list the game is sitting there, taunting and degrading you with its bar, a mere smidge off from being completely full. It constantly nips away at your every waking thought even when you’re playing another game entirely or when you’re not even online. The pain and torment lingers until one day you play enough new games to bury that particular trophy set deep, deep, down in the depth of your trophy lists, hopefully never to be seen nor heard of again.