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The Witcher 3’s next-gen version continues to receive refinements and improvements from CD Projekt Red, and while I thought the developer could never live up to the audacious excellence of fixing the grass shadows (and thus the game itself), I have been proven grievously wrong. After eight long years, the same gap as between the O.G. Witcher and The Witcher 3, Geralt can no longer get his chow on underwater. Our boy’s days of noshing in the briney deep are no more. CDPR also fixed some other stuff too.

“With the exception of potions and decoctions, it’s now impossible for Geralt to eat or drink underwater,” the 4.03 patch notes mention at the end, further explaining that “While the team agreed it might be possible to drink liquids from a corked flask, consuming pints of a…

The Intel CPU architecture that was never meant to be has become the processor generation that no longer is. Intel has popped a proverbial cap into Rocket Lake, otherwise known as its 11th Generation Core processors. They are, in their entirety, officially EOL’d or shifted to end-of-life status.

Unsurprisingly, the game is also up for Intel’s 400 and 500 series chipsets which support Rocket Lake CPUs. The supply of Rocket Lake CPUs won’t cease instantly. Final orders are now being taken and the remaining chips will work their way through the system. But Rocket Lake is officially on notice.

Lest ye have forgotten, Rocket Lake was a curious beast. Built on the by-then ancient 14nm node and topped out with the Core i9 11900K, Intel itself admitted that Rocket Lake was a back-po…

Watch On

I found Emily in the basement of Etheridge Heights, a squat tenement on the edge of town, overlooking the water. She was a mess—hands tied, bare knees pressed into the cement. I looked worse. My hunt kicked off when I found the ransom note in her flat: Leave 4,000 credits under the bridge by 9:15 pm or she dies. By then it was already 4 in the afternoon.

Since then I’d been everywhere, sprinting from one end of town to the other over and over and over. Collecting fingerprints, taking statements, rooting through trash and smashing down doors. I was a wheezing, bleeding mess, starving and stinking. But my perseverance paid off. Cross-referencing a suspicious email in Emily’s inbox with her address book and the government database of citizens gave me a suspect, and I lucked o…