Ever detected an element of ogre in that unkempt lout lounging on a park bench with a can of light ale, or insubstantial wraith in the girl twittering inanities into her mobile phone?

This is probably because those alter egos exist in the depths of Darkle Deeps or magical realm of Lustreland; a dimension where griffins, rocs and dragons soar over a domain on the verge of being devoured by a monstrous entity deep below it.

This also comes as quite a shock to a bombastic bass baritone and sagacious hotel owner with a mission to bring down an international conspiracy.