There are a surprising number of games that seem to promise more than they can actually deliver once you start playing. In the gaming world, it’s a common adage not to judge a book by its cover, but sticking to one’s word is crucial. Too often, we’ve seen developers assure us of brilliance only to end up underwhelming. Take No Man’s Sky, for instance. Some might say it’s a fantastic game today—and I wouldn’t argue with that. It’s in a good place now, but playing it on release day was underwhelming compared to the hype. This isn’t a jab at Hello Games, as they managed to turn things around admirably, earning the recognition they deserve. Rather, it’s a cautionary tale for other developers who don’t manage to fulfill their promises. Now, let’s talk about our current PS5 adventure: Mists of Noyah. On paper, it’s set to shake up genres, but as we dive deeper, it becomes another tale of dreams not quite realized.
Imagine a game that splices elements from crafting giants like Terraria with the unpredictable nature of a roguelike Metroidvania. Sounds intriguing, right? With its promise of endless exploration and unconventional crafting, many would be eager to dive into Mists of Noyah. The problem is that it feels unfinished, almost as if it was left behind in its development journey.
When I launched Mists of Noyah, the character selection screen definitely piqued my interest. Arrayed before me was a compelling scene: a world where, by day, you gather and build to fend off night-time terrors threatening your village. The concept of racing against time to safeguard villagers from the lurking shadows was tempting, yet the real experience was nothing more than starting in an unremarkable forest.
A noticeable shortcoming of Mists of Noyah is the complete absence of a tutorial. While I generally enjoy figuring things out on my own given some starter guidelines, here it feels more like an unfinished chapter than a crafted mystery. This approach can work brilliantly if handled right, piquing your curiosity and structural intrigue, but failing to guide or inform just comes across as neglect.
As I began navigating the game, basic controls fell into place eventually, though discovering them felt like wandering through a maze. Sure, I leaped from platforms, tackled enemies, and gathered resources, but that was after quite a trial-and-error session with the menus. Crafting my inaugural set of wooden armor was an accomplishment wrapped in guesswork. After the first death reset my progress, I still felt adrift in understanding and compelled to repeat the cycle under the cloak of night.
With darkness came tougher enemies, overwhelming the capability of my inadequate bow. This deterred exploratory enthusiasm, driving a desperate quest to find the village I believed should’ve been my starting point. Several attempts later, I stumbled upon it, welcomed only by further bewilderment.
Inside the village, the game continued its unfinished theme. Vendors stood there with zero interaction or context, leaving me guessing at their wares. Acquiring anything with my accumulated gold became a frustrating exercise, as there was no sense of what was valuable to my quest. A fairy offered a chance to test my mettle in a dungeon—especially a so-called ‘easy’ one, but any confidence quickly dwindled when the first adversary promptly annihilated me.
As I ventured into new biomes, differences were superficial, little more than the woodland re-skinned with desert or arctic flair. The transition between these varied textures occurred with bewildering speed, making any semblance of cohesiveness elusive. Combat was serviceable, environments satisfactory, but undirected gameplay left little incentive to press on. Day and night cycles, theoretically adding depth, instead obscured my objectives.
A persistent clock underlined the urgency of nighttime danger. Intended to induce tension, in reality, it intensified frustration. The game continuously ticked away, leaving no space for contemplation or menu navigation without consequence. Even story-progressing items like the village scroll, a cumbersome twelve pages, provided no relief from the relentless passage of time. This ticking clock feels less a designed challenge than an oversight yearning for an auto-pause feature.
Mists of Noyah, as it stands, presents only the shadows of what could have been a compelling game. The scant narrative direction fails to engage, leaving players stranded without purpose. It’s as if the game was released prematurely, passer-by in life’s grand journey, resulting in a lackluster experience unworthy of your time or money. Visually, the game holds promise, inviting players with aesthetic charm, yet it remains an unpolished gem lacking the core elements to truly shine. In essence, it’s more style over substance.
Were Mists of Noyah still in Early Access, expectations would adjust accordingly. Yet, its current state, seeking payment for incomplete content, ranks as disappointing. What compounds the issue is its pricier Steam counterpart and the extended timeline since its initial release, making this iteration feel like a mere financial maneuver rather than a concerted effort to improve the game.
Ultimately, Mists of Noyah is one you can bypass without regret. While brimming with potential, its incomplete execution results in a perplexing, unenjoyable experience. It fails to meet the threshold of what a full-fledged release warrants, offering little reason to invest either time or money. Do yourself a favor—hold onto your cash for something that delivers all it promises and more.
