Level 45. 58 hours. This is my Skyrim experience expressed in two lonely numbers. It also marks the point in time at which I discovered I'd unnecessarily gimped myself, denied myself one of the game's finest delights. I'd heard friends speak in reverent tones about a particular "power" and its hilarious, physics-perverting properties, while I stared, dumbfounded and confused. Were we playing the same game? Had I broken something and missed out on this most magical of abilities? As it turns out, no, it was nothing like this. I was, to put it simply, an idiot possessed.