Introduction

Prologue

Any C

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Table of Contents

When the Infinity Engine first came out the gaming community saw yet another rebirth of the RPG. It not only brought the Dungeons and Dragons ruleset back into the foreground, but it also provided a more open-ended style of gameplay that previous cRPG systems tended to lack. The mechanics were intuitive, the battle tactics were interesting, the plots were great, and the worlds were pretty open-ended. Sure you'd screw yourself over if you DID go on a wild rampage slaughtering all civilians in sight, but it was just nice to have that option.Enter Planescape: Torment. Long considered to be one of the most bizarre and fascinating of campaign worlds in D&D, Planescape was also one which was enormously difficult to play through by virtue of its immensely complex world, its myriad of supplements, species, classes, and Factions. Very few DMs would touch that with a ten-foot pole, but plenty longingly flipped through the pages of the campaign manuals for ideas, or simply to admire Tony Diterlizzi's iconic art.The production of an Infinity Engine game based in the Planescape setting was a pretty bold decision, given that the project would be huge and that the esoteric setting was in danger of alienating the target audience. Yet the allure of it was in its potential expansiveness and its ability to explore avenues that run against the generic grain of medieval swords-and-sorcery.Unfortunately due to a combination of poor advertising, clunky combat mechanics, and its text-heavy nature putting off some gamers, PST simply didn't sell well. Despite this, it rapidly grew into a cult classic and is often considered one of the best story-driven RPGs out there.Unlike your standard RPG, the hero isn't out to save the world. He isn't even out to save a city (though stuff like this might happen only as a side effect of his actions). The impact of The Nameless One's is pretty limited when compared to a standard hero whose sole purpose in life is to vanquish demon X to save world Y from horrible fate Z. If the Nameless One does any good to those around him, it's secondary to his discovery of who he is and why he is the way he is. Despite that, it's a story that is epic in scope and poignant in design.I originally started up this LP because 1) I consider Planescape: Torment to be the best RPG experience out there in terms of plot, and 2) I wanted to really flex my writing muscles and try to do a novel-length work (even though a good hunk of the text wasn't my own), and I definitely have noticed my style maturing a lot between the first and last updates. What follows here is the product of many many days' worth of writing and planning to translate Planescape: Torment to text in a manner that is faithful to its original design.Enjoy.D Man,Od MatASd buRn!"The deva smiles and nods, "I sing of all of them, and none, good friends. I am Oudilin Ovariis, bard and collector of histories.""Myth, more like!" the first gruff voice shouts again, and you see a short humanoid leap up onto the table. A dwarf, you've heard, some sort of burrowing creature. Still, it seems shorter than it had been described to you, "A thousand fairy tales and rumors are told every day, in this rat-piss corner of the City alone! Just another coffer of dung, I say!" A murmur of agreement flows through the crowd."Dung?""DUNG! Dung"Ah, but--"The deva gives a short pause to let the fellow calm down. The dwarf is panting, and near foaming at the mouth best you can tell, "What is your name, good friend?""I be G'mir!"Another pause."G'mir? G'mir the Midget Dwarf? Rager and barbarian? The one who slew the Arch-Demon Lord Gulathomon after being tossed into battle?" the spearwoman asks. You have a feeling that G'mir was 'tossed' into battle quite literally.The stumpy warrior glowers and gnashes his teeth at hearing his less-than-flattering title.A placating hand from the deva holds off any more argument as he lays the harp on the stool, and in the other palm a small brown square appears in motes of white dust. He raises what now looks like a small book to the air, a strange pointed symbol seared into the cover. The cured leather is well-worn, flaking here and there and stained with no small amount of blood. Yet it is bound together with fine precision, pages lining up neatly."And what be this?" G'mir scowls."This," the deva says with a gesture and a smile, "is your dung. The lost journal of The Nameless One."