


Initially, you're content trundling around with a couple of level two Spiders and the odd farting Bile Demon in case of emergency. Success comes not from employing lots of creatures, but rather the right creatures, each type lured to your dungeon by a different room combination. The gradual escalation is masterful – each level completed means more of the idyllic world map razed and corrupted, catching the attention of increasingly powerful lords of the realm as a result. Usually, it gives you the space and time to build up a dungeon to be proud of, unleashing it on witless heroes or enemy Keepers only once you feel ready. DK was never the prettiest game, but it made up for it – still does – with its awesome soundscape, and that's also the strongest hint that this was a very deliberate attempt to escape Bullfrog's acquired reputation for achingly cute, massmarket games.ĭK posits you as a conquering antihero tearing a dark streak across the world, and only ever puts you on the back foot for certain set-piece levels. The whiplash of a Dark Mistress euphorically tenderising her own rump, the b-caw! of a Bile Demon gobbling surprised chickens whole, the lonely chink of a depressed imp heaving his pickaxe into solid rock, the eerie whispering from the Scavenger Room. Craft a suitably elaborate dungeon, wait for a fine array of beasties to set up home in it, then zoom out and listen.

DK nails atmosphere, and not just in its screams.
