What would you say first if you were suddenly blasted into a sword and sorcery setting with a sword and shield in hand, which you have no idea how to use even if you did beforehand, a troll charging at you from the front and a dozen elite Orc Scorchers approaching from behind?
These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world. — Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah