Post Script

How has the rise of Polish studios changed the stories videogames tell?

You’re a pilgrim, aren’t ya?” asks a suspicious survivor. “You guys don’t do anything for free.” It’s not a surmission that makes any sense using our definition of the word ‘pilgrim’ – religious travellers aren’t known for their materialism. But in Dying Light 2’s faux-medieval tongue, a pilgrim is a courier – the last means of transporting goods and messages between the distant and disparate human settlements of a devastated Earth. It’s a high-risk profession that tends to attract outsiders, and a certain reputation. Roaming the rooftops, we overhear citizens claim that pilgrims are thieves and swindlers, criminals with no conscience. Techland has compared them to desperadoes or ronin. But really, they’re most reminiscent of witchers.

Techland’s admiration for CD Projekt Red is clear to see in Dying Light 2. It’s there in the Geralt-style investigation mechanic, which sees you follow bloody footprints to retrace past events. It’s evident in the branching narrative, which, as the studio has proudly pointed out, was partly put together by questwriters behind The Witcher 3’s Bloody Baron plotline.

In a report published last year by TheGamer, one source characterised Techland CEO Paweł Marchewka’s preoccupation with CD Projekt as “borderline unhealthy”. For his part, Marchewka admits to regularly comparing the two studios during internal discussions.

“It’s natural that I pay attention to what others in our industry are doing, so when talking about examples of high-quality solutions, I often refer to CD Projekt Red,” he told TheGamer. “I point out that it is also a Polish company, so certainly our origins and roots should not be an excuse.”

It’s a statement that speaks to Poland’s former place in gaming – its output dismissed as ‘Eurojank’, along with that of much of the continent – and its new position as an industry leader. The Witcher might have precipitated that shift, but it’s hardly alone. Techland and People Can Fly are fixtures of the triple-A release calendar, while notable games such as Trek To Yomi, Chernobylite, Ghostrunner and Carrion have prompted international conversation among press and fans. Developers have travelled through the halls of CD Projekt Red and emerged to produce quality work of their own, such as the acclaimed RPG Seven and the forthcoming Team17-backed strategy game Gord.

So what has an increased Polish influence on the industry meant for games? It’s changed their bogeymen, for one thing – as evidenced by The Witcher’s kikimoras and leshys, which both take their names and characteristics from local legend. Slavic folklore powers Gord, too, which draws its title from ancient fortified settlements in the area. It’s clear that Polish mythology has become mainstream pop culture – the subject of Netflix deep dives watched by millions.

Even more tangibly, however, Poland has changed the game industry’s perspective on war. “As Poles, we’ve a strong folk memory of World War II,” CD Projekt writer Magdalena Zych once explained. “Even if it’s something we heard from our grandparents or great grandparents, we can relate to people living under foreign occupation. It’s not hard to imagine for us.” That civilian focus is reflected in The Witcher 3, which deals not in the broad sweep of invasion but the impact on those caught in the middle. There’s little prospect of glory once Geralt shows up in the former Temeria. By that point, the battlefields aren’t to be fought on but rather picked over – a place for starving locals to scavenge valuables, as well as hotbeds for disease.

It’s a perspective CD Projekt Red has in common with 11 Bit Studios, the Warsaw-based studio behind This War Of Mine and Frostpunk. As the developer was creating its award-winning breakthrough, the RussoUkrainian War kicked off just next door. “If you think the civilised world would never collapse, well: it’s our neighbouring country, a few hundred kilometres from where I live,” 11 Bit’s Paweł Miechowski told PC Gamer.

This War Of Mine remains striking for its collision of death and mundanity: a game in which you dodge snipers to retrieve parts for lamps to grow vegetables in your attic. “Most of our skills would be useless in war,” Miechowski said. “What counts is survival skills, cooking, fighting, but also one man helping another. You learn from your grandfathers who lived during the Second World War. They have real experiences. We can listen to them and learn.” In 2020, This War Of Mine became the first game to be added to the recommended reading list in Polish secondary schools. 11 Bit has since codified its approach to game design as ‘meaningful entertainment’, and expanded to a headcount of 185.

Of course, it would be reductive to claim that every commonality in Polish games is proof of some shared national character. Techland might have pulled from The Witcher while creating Dying Light 2’s pilgrims, for instance, but Geralt’s nomadic lifestyle is best explained by his creator’s former profession, as a travelling salesman. Some ideas are simply personal, only becoming myth after mass adoption.

Yet a certain Polishness looks set to seep further into the mainstream game industry. Techland has funnelled some of its considerable earnings into publishing, while CD Projekt has acquired The Molasses Flood in Boston, to work on a new project in one of its universes. If the air of disappointment around

Cyberpunk 2077 caused Polish development to falter, its wallet certainly hasn’t got the message.

Polish mythology has become mainstream pop culture – the subject of Netflix deep dives watched by millions