Tavern Keeper is the management sim of my dreams, and the best thing I've played in early access in 2025

Nothing I have ever done has filled me with as much pride as The Half Pint, my hobbity pub serving patrons all across the idyllic Shire, which I built and manage from within early access sim Tavern Keeper.

We serve a wide range of drinks and snacks, from reasonably priced wine and ale to skewers of ethically sourced meats (the source is an ogre and he seems very above board), host live music and any comedians who haven't been cancelled yet, and thanks to my business acumen we are absolutely rolling in it.

But this isn't why I'm so proud of my little business. Tavern Keeper is a fantastic management sim, undoubtedly, boasting a great deal of flexibility and ways to keep the lights on while still providing plenty of wrinkles that keep you on your toes, from magical pyromaniacs to grumpy staff to huge parties demanding all of your attention.

It's the interior decorating that's left me obsessed, though.

Every object you plonk down can be vigorously edited—you can change the scale and the colour to start with, but then you can add other objects and components to completely transform it. In my first tavern, a dingy swamp pub full of ne'er do wells, I stuck a sword into the bar, then popped a raven on top of it, and then transformed it into a light source. Anything can be a lamp!

The Half Pint's cosy vibe means no weapons, however, but we do have a lovely big poker table that I rustled up in just a few minutes. Customers can also pay homage to The Half Pint's celebrity patron—Sir Porkly of Baconshire, a statue I absolutely had to create when I realised you could stick a top hat on a carved wooden pig.

Through the campaign you'll unlock more objects, either via story moments or as gifts from pleased patrons, but there's also a workshop mode that displays every item in the game, letting you get stuck into some crafting without the business side of things distracting you.

Creative players have made some properly ingenious stuff, like a tabletop gaming zone that even includes D&D-style character sheets. PCG's Chris even made a copy of the PC Gamer mag, just in case some elves and hobbits fancy arguing about review scores.

It's just such a permissive toolset. The simple fact that it treats clipping as a feature rather than an error allows you to do so much fun stuff. I'm really eager to start working on a dwarven tavern where there isn't a single wall that doesn't have an axe embedded in it.

When you're done, you can just link all the objects that are part of your masterpiece together, so you can use your creation again and again, as well as uploading it so other players can use it in their taverns. So even if you're not interested in painstakingly arranging elaborate scenes, you're still free to take advantage of someone else's creativity.

While the interior decorating is what's grabbed me and won't let go, I wouldn't be having nearly as much fun if the rest of the game wasn't as flavourful as my favourite fruity cocktails. It's absurdly charming and clever, and this is in great part thanks to the narrator.

See, you'll get visitors from time to time who want to chat to you, effectively offering you some quests or narrative diversions. These conversations are all voiced by the game's ever-present narrator, who has a great deal of fun doing all the voices. There are some genuinely delightful storylines, like one of your halfling staff members wanting to do a cheesy stand-up comedy set.

My favourite so far, however, was the first story beat, where a representative of a guild of tavern keepers forces you to apply for membership. It's a great example of how you can give players a meaningful sense of agency even when you need them to make a specific choice.

During the conversation, I kept refusing to play ball, spawning a long argument full of skill checks and bargaining. In the end, the NPC was desperately pleading with me, effectively telling me that if I didn't join the guild, that would be the end for me. No more game. I called her bluff, and then I was booted right to my desktop.

When I loaded up my save, the game didn't pretend nothing had happened, forcing me to just start the conversation again and agree to the NPC's terms. Instead, the narrator acknowledged my rebellious streak, and while I ultimately did have to join the guild, I still felt like I'd won somehow. At the very least, I earned some laughs.

And it's a perfect game for the holidays. I mean, what says Christmas better than ignoring your family and going to the pub?