Thats up to each of us to decide. Same for you..I cant speak to that. I know that in my case, Ive opened the island and will get started in a day or so, but Ill come back to it off and on for weeks and wont hurry. So crops will take a while, big deal. Ill go off and play or curl up in bed with a good book, come back later when its ready.It's normal to ask what's in it for me.
Its an ISLAND. Separate from the rest of the world. No Meteion, no Asciians. no Grand Companies with disasters only you can fix, no monsters to fight, for once the Warrior of Light has a place to relax, sleep, wander with no intrusion from the outside world.
Twelve knows we have earned it.
In many ways the island is a lot like the game, as Yoshi himself has said, go off and do other things, play other games, come back when you feel like it and dont get burnt out.
What was the first thing I did? Went for a swim, then sat and listened to the music and the wind blowing through the trees, knowing that the one thing I wont be hearing is some Storm Lieutenant running up to me to tell me that a primal has roared, or the tribes are restless, or that someone is having trouble with a monster hamster they forgot to feed and is now eating peoples cats.
It will be there FOREVER, unlike another MMO whose idiotic FOMO mantra is "do this NOW or its gone and will never be back", the island will be there a week, a month, a year from now, with more added as time goes on.
What is the island for?
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking,
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.


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