It’s difficult to overestimate just how many innovations Underworld brought to the genre, but it was what I was actually doing in the game that hooked me. Even at a time when complex, massive RPGs were the norm, it was exceptionally engrossing. I still have my notebook; it says things like ‘Sir Cabirus: eight talismans’, ‘Ironwit wants blueprints – SE of his complex?’ and ‘Uus Por: large jumps’, along with translations of a lizardman language and other long-forgotten reminders to myself.

‘Uus Por’ was a spell I’d discovered: in Underworld, you cast spells by collecting individual rune stones you find in the dungeon, then arranging them on your rune rack. Some of these spells you can find written down, others have to be discovered through experimentation.

Each of the eight levels of Underworld is artfully designed. As you descend deeper, you’re introduced to more and more factions. There are the goblins, of mutually hostile green and grey varieties; the lizardmen, with their seemingly impenetrable language; an order of knights described by the strategy guide as ‘depressingly virtuous’; and the usual ogres, trolls, ghouls, mages, bats and more.​