

At least the gods are marginally easier to deal with and they can be a boon if you play things well. On top of this stifling amount of responsibility come the gods and their divine tantrums (no ten plagues, sadly, not even locusts or John Hannah), and an often stroppy Pharaoh whose whims must be catered to. Try cramming a mortuary into the back garden of a row of posh houses and see how well that goes down. It’s easy to let costs spiral and the city’s sprawl become unorganised, which can be especially problematic if, like me, you haven’t left room for buildings that will be introduced later on. If you want your housing to upgrade and become more desirable (often a mission goal), you’ll need all sorts of resources, including pottery, beer, access to schools and healthcare-all of which have chains of buildings and resources associated with them.

On top of this stifling amount of responsibility come the gods and their divine tantrums, and an often stroppy Pharaoh whose whims must be catered to. Building placement is more crucial than it first appears, and those early days laying out the bones of a city are key, especially given how damn needy the residents are. Players who, like me, have a predilection for winging it-who gallop through the game, throwing down houses and industry-will end up having a far tougher time. Meticulous planners are well suited to Pharaoh’s challenge. With new chains of industry coming in quick succession, it feels like some sadistic wag at Impressions Games has stepped to Pharaoh’s metaphorical conveyor belt and tugged down a giant lever, sending new information and elements vomiting out and into my already full hands. It is relatively easy to grasp the basics of building homes and supporting buildings and infrastructure, but it isn’t long before the difficulty ramps and threatens to overwhelm. In each mission in a campaign, there are a number of smaller goals, such as filling a granary, having ten modest apartments or brewing beer and tougher long-term goals, such as raising your Prosperity or Kingdom Rating to a certain level.

You play a dynasty rather than a character, and throughout the main campaign you follow them through successive generations as you rise in rank and notability. While it won’t consume your vital organs, it will devour your time and stretch your patience to breaking point. Quaint and lovely though it looks, when you shove the lid off the game’s sarcophagus, you’ll find it has a nastier streak than Imhotep. As with its brethren, and retro management-style games in general (Colonization springs to mind), it can be brutal to play in spite of how simple it may appear.
