It might only be an abandoned salt mine in the hinterlands of Romania, but images such as these transports me from this rather mundane, everyday world into one of high fantasy. Imagine for yourself the thick, furry tang of Mashiem. His heavy mail rustles softly as he clenches his massive hands around the well oiled, wooden haft of a battle axe. Clustered behind him is Gwydion holding a sputtering pitchy torch in her hands while the flickers of arcane energy dances in her eyes. Tasharin stands a few paces back, a restraining hand on the shoulder of the massive Felguard, Flaatom. He reeks of alien, demonic power and his haughty gaze peers down the tunnel as he quivers with barely supressed rage. To the flanks Nickster and Gormat are adjusting their sights, keeping their pets closely leashed as the sounds from up ahead intensify. In the near darkness it's impossible to tell what loosed that blood curdling scream, but Gwendo is flipping through an ancient tome we'd found on a dessicated corpse at the last crossing. She pauses a moment, finger hovering over the page as she whispers: "I think we're in trouble".

And that is where I go, every so often. It's part of the reason why I lose myself in all forms of gaming because that - that imagery and the feeling of being inside another, amazing realm is just so addictive. Perhaps a transitory feeling of power, I don't know. But I absolutely love it.