In the gaming world, it’s not uncommon to encounter titles where the initial concept seems brilliant, yet the execution falls flat. Though we’re often reminded not to judge a book by its cover, gamers have learned the hard way that promises of perfection in this industry don’t always lead to satisfactory results. We’ve witnessed too many games failing to live up to the hype, and No Man’s Sky serves as a prime example. Yes, it’s a fantastic game now, and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment, but its launch day left many of us underwhelmed. However, let’s not dwell on that; Hello Games eventually redeemed themselves, earning much-deserved praise. The reason I bring this up is to highlight what happens when game developers overpromise and underdeliver—a cautionary tale for other teams. Now, let’s talk about the game currently running on my PS5: Mists of Noyah. On paper, it sounds like it should be groundbreaking. Unfortunately, it ends up being another case where expectations and reality don’t quite align.
Imagine a game that combines crafting elements like Terraria with the thrills of a roguelike Metroidvania. You’d think such a game, with its endless exploration possibilities and enticing crafting mechanics, would be a must-have. If Mists of Noyah had felt complete, it might have been. Sadly, the game presents itself as if it has been left in the dust.
When I booted up Mists of Noyah and reached the character selection screen, excitement coursed through me. I was eager to discover what adventures awaited my chosen hero tasked with defending a village from nocturnal monsters. A game that demanded resource gathering and fortifying during daylight to ward off nightmarish creatures promised a thrilling experience. However, my first in-game interaction? Being plopped into the middle of a forest.
Mists of Noyah throws you into the mix without a tutorial. While diving straight into gameplay is appealing, provided you have basic controls and an idea of your goal, it quickly felt more like oversight than intentional design. Lacking initial story elements sometimes adds mystery and suspense. Here, it just felt like someone decided the tutorial phase was unnecessary.
Despite no guidance, I quickly tackled the controls, jumping around platforms and dispatching enemies, mining resources, and even completing a quest to craft wooden armor—all by randomly navigating menus. This trial-and-error method felt less like gaming and more like a guessing game. Dying, being reset, and forced to repeat, with no clear instructions, didn’t enhance the experience.
Nighttime brought tougher enemies, and my feeble weaponry meant I was scrambling past foes rather than engaging. Searching for a village I suspected was nearby but couldn’t immediately locate became my mission. After multiple defeats and retries, I stumbled upon the village, only to meet a new layer of confusion.
The village felt just as incomplete as the start of the game. Vendors were present but lacked dialogue, leaving me to guess their wares’ value. Spending in-game currency was a shot in the dark, as I didn’t know what purchases were practical at that point. An encounter with a fairy proposing a dungeon run ended swiftly when the first monster overwhelmed me. Not one to give up easily, I explored different environments the game offered.
The environments or “biomes” seemed merely redesigned woodland versions—a desert and arctic twist, but nothing felt distinct or memorable. From woodland to tundra to desert, I navigated with still no overarching objective. Combat was serviceable, levels adequately designed, but there was no compelling reason to continue. The day-night cycle, although clever, added difficulty without clarity about my objectives.
The ticking clock on my screen should signal impending danger, increasing urgency as night nears. While this concept works if you’re clear on objectives, in a game that leaves discovery to players, it becomes problematic. For instance, reading a vital scroll’s story became risky since the clock, never pausing, could mean an untimely demise mid-read. This essential feature feels like another project aspect overlooked. An auto-pause function is sorely needed.
Mists of Noyah feels incomplete, an empty façade touting a great game hiding beneath. Releasing a game seemingly prematurely leaves players questioning whether developers lost interest. If not wholly invested themselves, why should gamers be eager to spend money and time? Mists of Noyah looks visually attractive but lacks substance. It’s, as they say, all fur coat with no knickers. Focusing on fundamentals and depth might have resulted in a more favorable critique.
Had Mists of Noyah launched in Early Access, I’d anticipate a work-in-progress glimpse. This critique’s tone would differ. Instead, asking £8 for a seemingly skeletal game is off-putting. Even more disheartening is discovering the game’s longer history on Steam, released without apparent improvements over two years. Unfortunately, this appears to be little more than a cash grab.
In summary, Mists of Noyah is an easily skippable title. While filling a niche of untapped potential, it stumbles where it counts most. Rather than a complete, rewarding experience, you’re faced with a confusing, unrefined project. It’s not ready for a polished release across platforms, especially following an older PC version. Instead of shelling out eight pounds here, invest your time and money elsewhere; it would be a wiser choice.
