There’s a frustrating trend in the gaming world where a game’s concept promises so much yet its execution falls short. We’ve all been taught not to judge a book by its cover, but in gaming, delivering on promises is crucial. We’ve been let down too many times by dev teams that promise perfection and fail to deliver. Take No Man’s Sky, for instance — before it transformed into the excellent game it is now, it was a serious letdown at launch due to the hype it failed to live up to. This isn’t a knock on Hello Games, who did a fantastic job turning things around and deserve all the praise. I’m bringing this up as a cautionary tale for other developers who might not redeem themselves. Now, let’s talk about the PS5 title we’re diving into: Mists of Noyah. On paper, it seems like it should redefine its genre, but unfortunately, the reality doesn’t live up to the expectation.
The notion of combining crafting mechanics akin to Terraria with a roguelike Metroidvania sounds compelling, doesn’t it? A game that relies on exploration, changes with every playthrough, and offers captivating crafting would, under different circumstances, have us eager to play. However, Mists of Noyah, while a game with potential, feels incomplete.
Starting Mists of Noyah, I enthusiastically hopped into character selection, curious to see what my chosen hero could accomplish. In theory, it’s about defending your village from night-time horrors, using daylight hours for foraging and building defenses. I envisioned intense gameplay where venturing too far could spell doom for me and those I protect. But instead, I was plonked right into a forest.
One immediate challenge with Mists of Noyah is the lack of any tutorial. Dropping players into the deep end to figure things out isn’t inherently bad — I enjoy piecing things together given a basic control scheme and some context. This can create a captivating mystery in the world you’re exploring. Alas, here it seems more like an oversight than an intentional design choice.
I quickly picked up on the game’s controls, hopping around and gathering resources like wood and stone. Despite not immediately grasping the mission’s scope, I managed to craft wooden armor as part of a quest, though mostly through trial and error. It felt like I was fumbling through menus without clear direction, and when I eventually died, I spawned back at the start, still without a solid understanding of the game’s mechanics, now at night.
Nighttime opponents were brutal, while my weak bow hardly affected them. I found myself simply avoiding enemies, racing forward in the hopes of discovering the village I assumed should’ve been my starting point. After getting clobbered a few times and enduring redundant retreads, I found the village — only to face another wave of confusion.
The village, much like the game’s onset, felt unfinished. Vendors lacked dialogue, leaving me in the dark about their wares’ functions. My gold was spent unwisely on items whose utilities were unclear to me. A fairy character offered a dungeon run, which I unwittingly accepted on easy mode, only to be decimated by the first enemy. Despite my frustrations, I pushed on to explore other biomes.
Though the biomes are supposed to offer variety, they merely appear as reskins of woodland areas, with slight twists to match desert or arctic settings. They failed to stand out or appear unique, and their random placement further disoriented me, thrusting me into frigid wastelands or scorching deserts without clear progression. Though the concept of day and night cycles is intriguing, not grasping my objectives made them a hindrance, not a feature.
A constant clock ticking on the screen signals the nights’ approach, heightening tension and marking your limited time before your village faces a raid. But, in a game where you’re left to figure everything out yourself, a non-stop timer feels unfair. While perusing a scroll that outlined the story — already challenging to follow — it dawned on me the clock was still running. This glaring oversight demands an auto-pause feature, seeming to overlook a fundamental part of playable gameplay.
Mists of Noyah ultimately feels like it’s clinging to the semblance of what could’ve been a compelling game. Instead, it’s an incorrectly executed shell of a potentially immersive story. It seems as though the developers released it before its time, maybe keen to move on to other projects. Lacking depth and polish, the game suggests minimal passion in its creation; if they couldn’t finish it, why should we invest time or money in it? Visually, it captures attention, but as the saying goes, "all show and no go." With the groundwork established and deeper development, this review could’ve sung a different tune.
If Mists of Noyah pitched itself as an Early Access endeavor, my review’s tone might be more forgiving. However, expecting us to shell out £8.00 for this incomplete experience borders on insult, especially considering that PS4/5 pricing doubles on Steam despite years of potential updates. It all feels a bit like a cash grab, given nearly two years of stagnation from the Steam version to the console ports.
In conclusion, Mists of Noyah is a title you can easily pass up. Ambitiously conceived yet poorly executed, you’d be paying for an unfulfilling, confusing experience. It doesn’t seem ready for release on any platform, let alone as a several-year-old PC port. Save your money for something more worthwhile.
Lost in the Mist
Look and Feel: 7/10
Story: 3/10
UI: 4/10
Value for Money: 3/10
Overall Score: 4.3/10
Wasted Potential
Mists of Noyah feels like something that should still be in Early Access. While its vision is clear, its execution is lacking. Many elements that could bring enjoyment and coherence to the experience are simply not present. You’re left with an attractive sandbox of good ideas, poorly integrated.
