Fields of Mistria is available in Early Access on Steam.

By all rights, I should feel exhausted to look at Fields of Mistria, let alone to play it.

This time last month, I was burnt out hearing about even a fraction of the games taking flight under the “cozy farming sim” banner. If you but turn over the slightest pebble on the Steam Store or crack the lid of a recent “Wholesome Direct”, a dozen digital chickens will come scrambling out asking you to tend them like Tamagotchi in exchange for their pixel-eggs.

Indie Farming Sims can feel today what brown-tinged First-Person Shooters were circa 2008: a market presence so overwhelming that they're liable to melt together into one collective brand-soup from which only the occasional glint of a Unique Gimmick or Distinct Flavor should emerge, only to disappear the month after as some new presentation of the “grow crops, plumb mines, schmooze townfolk” gameplay cycle would take its place to Wishlist Now.

So what broke the cycle for me? A game that shifts into an entirely new occupational field like alchemy? Maybe one that properly commits itself to a pastoral life of non-violence?

Nah – it's one that, when laid out as a neat little product description, appears to do nothing different at all.

The Familiar, Re-tuned

Okay, that's not entirely fair to developer NPC Studio.

But the trouble is, while Mistria is doing a fair bit different than its many many peers, it's hard to articulate what it's doing differently in a completely objective way, much less one that makes for an easily-marketable blurb.

Or, more importantly, how it's doing things a fair bit different.

To wit: the days within Mistria‘s borders are among the shortest of those in a recent inter-township survey, lasting only a succinct 12-to-13 minutes when spent completely on-task. Which, on a first read, sounds frustrating. 12 minutes is hardly enough time to prepare lunch, much less tear through the inevitable list of to-dos.

But stay only a week, and it's immediately apparent that the universe within Mistria resists the notion of doing everything in one day – in fact, with the state of things as they are right now, you virtually can't.

Even with a conveniently-brisk walking speed (explicitly made so to accommodate the region's spacious layout), you simply can't water your crops, cull the weeds, greet every neighbor, do the shopping, craft a sword, comb the outskirts for berries, catch a fish, and poke a few levels deeper in the mines all while making it to bed on time. The area around Mistria is just too flush and the days too short to pull off that feat once, let alone as a routine.

So you know what?

I, personally, just don't.

As with many things, it becomes apparent in short order that it's so much more efficient and so much more rewarding of your effort to just pick a task or two, dial in, and take any complications or interruptions as they come.

They world of Mistria is but a shade short of beaming an invisible “SPEED LIMIT” signpost directly into your mind. And just like a real speed limit sign: yeah, you could go five over and get where you're going a smidge quicker. But why bother shaving off less than a minute from your daily commute at the expense of all that extra stress?

Calendar? I hardly know ‘er!

And just as a cincher, lay the Mistria municipal timetable out for a review. The first town-wide event of the year that expects village whippersnappers to show up with a beau in tow doesn't hit until the end of Summer – plenty of time to size each other up and start courting whoever strikes their fancy.

As a point of comparison, those chumps in the next Valley over give less than half that time to new residents before their Spring dance, leading to much weeping and gnashing of teeth among those who should deign to miss but a single day of dilligent devotion or to pursue a partner of uncommon taste.

It's still a bit of a deadline in Mistria, sure enough. But every deadline like it comes with some pressure-relief valve or another. Nobody tells you up front that they intend to pass judgement if your farm isn't a solved machine by the next mayoral election cycle. Even the early flower-hunting Spring Festival challenge won't let newcomers begin to work on its task until the week before; even then, its “objective” is so intertwined with the day-to-day expectations of a fledgeling farmer that they're barely asked to shift course from existing plans.

And one thing that exists nowhere on the town itinerary is interpersonal favors. You've got your job; the blacksmiths have theirs, and the botanist hers. Any requests are just that: requests, free from the obligation of due-dates or threat of annoyed neighbors. The worst a hanging objective might due is add a bit of clutter to an otherwise-clean notebook, and even that does so little.

Lateral Innovation

And with a fairly thorough de-fanging of the very concept of time, the lands of Mistria can turn their attention to making their on-ramps so completely frictionless you could skate straight into a most comfortable life of agricultural reverie. From the weather-predicting-at-a-glance-and-practically-thrust-upon-new-residents Crystal Ball to the magical flip of a wardrobe at the press of a button to the downright pleasant mischief of the town residents and their perenially-fresh conversation, you'll have a hard time finding easier going on a homestead outside Mistria.

And speaking of residents, one of the larger points of friction with learning new people is treading carefully lest you upset them, finding their likes and dislikes without the werewithal to ask directily and often brute-forcing your way toward learning two dozen sets of preferences unless you've been blessed with the aid of some Divine Spreadsheet.

Yet Mistria has answers even for this, allowing some leniency that rewards even casual observation and hesitates not to reward next-best guessing. For the eight-year-old would-be ruler of the Kingdom of Imagination, and even remotely regal-sounding object should do. Few are picky about a gifted flower; almost none who appreciate one varietal would reject another. And rumor has it the coming months will bear out the opportunity to confer with a neighbor who's been around the block once or five times to discretely clue you in on the fast-track to somebody's heart on the off-chance that “through their stomach” should fail.

Why, imagine that – talking to vibrant people in order to learn local information bit by bit, as though you're meant to interface with and rely on your new community. It's enough to almost sound thematic or summat.

Settling In

And all this is apparent just in the first month or two of plying one's trade in Mistria, and all that short of the town's full development and formal public release.

It puts forth a good first impression, to be sure. But more importantly, it puts forth a fantastic first intent. A near-declaration that Mistria is devoted to ousting stressors on a systemic level.

The “new” thing that Fields of Mistria leads with is a player-first philosophy. Not to give them everything they say they want, exactly. But to get itself and every other paper-cut barrier out of the way so that anyone encountering it fresh can simply enjoy themselves. To be cozy, to live properly day-to-day without the idea that any given effort isn't perfectly optimal or building to some rigid mechanical goal after which you'll have finally “made it”.

It's right there in the 12-minute day cycle.

Slow down, take a deep breath, and focus just on what's in front of you in the now.

And that's enough.