The Nameless Thread

[Thadius]

You should probably watch the opening movie. Just FYI.



I love this game. Really I do. And I only just picked it up for a song.



This is my TNO's starting stats. For your info, I will NEVER put stat points into Charisma. Pointless, because I know of a way to do it so much BETTER.

Blackness. That's what I tell people I first remember. A black sky, with gray shores, and water more reflective and as opaque as quicksilver. A dead tree on an island in the middle of the river, the water lapping at my boots. A cold wind that you can't feel, but nonetheless, chills you beyond the bone, to your very core.

Then a sudden pain in my chest, I fall over, into the river, and I see a thousand skeletons, all pointing accusingly at me.

And then light.



After I awoke, I realized I was on a hard slab. Not the most comfortable of places to be napping. And then I started to put two and two together when I smelled the stench of death.

Clearly, I had died. I groaned as I got up.



Fortunately, it appeared as though I was not the only one mistaken for dead. Though I couldn't blame whoever did the mistaking, really. After all, if this chatterbox ever stopped talking and lay still, he could EASILY be mistaken for dead.



I began to realize I had bigger problems than merely being mistaken for dead. I had mistaken my own identity, for one. I couldn't recall my name. This...could be an issue.



And not only was I nameless, but I was also scarred. Which would explain the constant pain whenever I tried to move.



Even as I asked the skull to read my back out, I knew, with a heavy sense of forboding, that this wouldn't spell out anything good for me.



Somehow, even with my memory lost, the name triggered something in my brain. Some deep-seated words of caution. I asked the skull to read on.



Even as I asked, I looked around. No books were readily apparent. Either somebody stole it, or it was never here to begin with. In either case, I had no journal, so I was failing whoever wrote those notes already.



I figured, while I was busy looking around, I might as well ask the skull about half the things on my back.



I was unused to the idea, then, that there would be more walking dead than me. But as I looked around, I noticed that clearly, that was not the case. More bodies shambled around, without the slightest sign of actual life in them.



I thought it was a little unfair of Morte to dismiss them as not having feelings just because they were dead. I had died, apparently, and I still had feelings. Right then, they were of annoyance.



While I COULD go and punch zombies barehanded, I realized that it was probably smarter to arm myself. At least then I'd have an advantage on the zombies.



Something told me that the corpses hitting me wouldn't be an actual problem.



And here's Morte's stats! Morte is a pretty handy guy to have around, he gains some special abilities, some of which improve the longer you keep him! Downside is, as he's a mere floating skull, he can wear literally nothing that might keep him alive. The upside to THAT is that he can't really be tagged by foes all that often! Morte'll be a staple of the party.



I found a few bandages on one shelf. They didn't look like they'd help much, but every bit counts.



On another, I found the scalpel.



Once again, Morte started to annoy me, so I began firing back.



Thankfully, he understood the potential consequences of not aiding me.



And so we got to work.



After destroying all the corpses, the key was mine. Now to get out of here.



Sadly, the key didn't work on the door near where I got it. Oh well.



Once again, Morte started chattering. Once again, I took the opportunity to pump him for information to fill the gaps in my memory.



'Dustmen' wasn't a very fear-invoking name. 'Corpse-men' might've been better.



So they believe everyone dies...and the fact that I clearly had, yet wasn't...I could begin to see the problem here.



...He couldn't be serious. Some vague memory was trying to push to the surface regarding the word for what this was.



I would take any chance proffered to me to steer this conversation away from that sort of topic.



...Something told me that keeping Morte in line would be trouble.



Okay he had a point. I wasn't even sure if I was walking straight.



It looked like it was going to descend into a sarcasm-contest...



But then Morte came up with a good idea.



So I gathered some supplies up, and made a crude, but functional, journal.



It was then that I was introduced...



To the sheer depth...



To Morte's and my own depravity. Which brings me to now. I'll write more in a bit, journal. I have to help Morte look for his jaw after I jokingly knocked it off him.

[Locke cole]

This is good.

This is very good.

[Locke cole]

No, seriously. More people need to see this thread, and comment, darnit.

[Thadius]

: These corpses don't have a whole lot left up in their bone-box, so when some dustie tells them to do something, they just keep doing it until they're told to stop. Even if they finished it already.

: No no, about that 'Rule of three' thing. What was that about?

: Oh! Some berks believe things tend to happen in threes. Three parts, three choices, and so on. Frankly, I think it's a load of bunk. Examine any series of events, and you're bound to find loads of coincidences!

: I see.



The next room held something that might give me answers. After all, if I had died, and this was a logbook of corpses, then I had to be in here somewhere. I'd look in the most recent entries. 'Large, male, scarred corpse, was accompanied by flying talking skull that would not shut up.' Foolproof planning...



...Except someone had carefully excised those last few pages with some sort of bladed instrument. Perhaps the scalpel I now hold? Whatever the case, I had run into another dead end.



Of course, shelves weren't the only place I could get items from. Thankfully, the zombies were...well, zombies.



There was only one proper response to this.



Nothing could deter me from possibly vital clues!





Unfortunately enough, it was only somebody else's last will and testament. Or something of that nature.



But that wouldn't stop me from helping a poor person out. In this case, I was helping myself to whatever this man thought was worth the attention of the Dustmen.



It was simple enough to begin with...



Then it got a little strange...



And then I got what I was after. An earring that hummed faintly with magical energy. I didn't dare put it on, for all I knew it was an Earring of Exploding Your Head Clean Off.



And then I noticed...this man. I'll get back to you in a moment, journal, I'm going to read over his shoulder and see if I'm in his book anywhere. This could take a while.

[akaSM]

A LP of Planescape Torment? I've wanted to play this for quite some time, this should be interesting :3

[akaSM]

What would the Earring of Exploding Your Head Clean Off explode Morte's head clean off?

[akaSM]

He would eSCAPE this PLANE of TORMENT by blowing his head off with the Earring of Exploding Your Head Clean Off.

We've deciphered the game's title Thad.

/Let's play

[Locke cole]

Clean off of this plane of existence.

[akaSM]

Originally Posted by Locke cole

Clean off of this plane of existence.

So, something like escaping off this plane?

[Locke cole]

If you count the afterlife as escaping.