Torchlight returns! The award-winning action RPG is back, bigger and better than ever. Torchlight II takes you once more into the quirky, fast-paced world of bloodthirsty monsters, bountiful treasures, and sinister secrets - and, once again, the fate of the world is in your hands.
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"Runic Games delivers pure, perfectly paced loot-driven euphoria."
-IGN"Torchlight is a vibrant, fun, steampunky world, and exploring it is an absolutely addictive pleasure."
-Joystiq"[A] sprawling, ambitious game that does one thing very, very well. It gives you a world you'll want to explore, filled with enemies you'll love to destroy."
-Kotaku"Grab the game, grab some friends, and get to clicking."
-Destructoid"It's got heart. Moxie. It's the scrappy underdog that everyone wants to love, and it just so happens to be the best Action RPG I've played in years."
-Co-OptimusOne afternoon, a child arrived at Switch Base with an umbrella that had been humming for a week. Pziper frowned, peered through his smallest lens, and found a single line of the lost map curled inside the ribs like a sleeping insect. It read: basenspziper—base of the sleeping wind. The child said the words as if naming a friend.
When Pziper and the child finally reached the highest tower, the umbrella unfurled by itself and rain began to fall—though the clouds were nowhere to be seen. The rain tasted of old ink. On the topmost sill lay a single word, damp and precise: upd. Around it, letters were arranged like constellations: dn ky kng crh dus ans wtch bas en spziper to par.
They decided to search for the rest. Pziper set his compass to the hush beneath the palace and the child held the umbrella like a small, hopeful sun. They crossed the grammar bridge—its planks were idioms—and pushed through alleys where adjectives grew like vines. Each clue they found was a word gone soft: a tavern called Sans, an abandoned train labeled Swtch, a bakery whose windows read Basen. At every stop, Pziper traced the air with his needle and fixed tiny stitches into the city's cloth—hefting syllables back onto their hooks.
No one remembered when the palace lost its name. Locals only knew the rumor: once the king Dnkykngcrh tried to trade his voice for a map that could thread every secret back into the world. The map arrived folded into a matchbox, its lines trembling like live fish. He opened it on a stormless night and read until the stars rearranged themselves. When dawn came, his name had slipped out of his mouth and walked away like a careful animal. Without a name, the king kept wandering the palace halls, listening for syllables that sounded like home.
Here is a short story centered around the digital hunt for this specific file. The Ghost in the Partition
You meant a password or passphrase and want guidance on creating secure passphrases and managing them safely.
Play co-op with other adventurers via LAN or over the internet (up to 4 players on console, and up to 6 on PC). Experiment with character synergies and defeat the greatest evils of Vilderan together.
One afternoon, a child arrived at Switch Base with an umbrella that had been humming for a week. Pziper frowned, peered through his smallest lens, and found a single line of the lost map curled inside the ribs like a sleeping insect. It read: basenspziper—base of the sleeping wind. The child said the words as if naming a friend.
When Pziper and the child finally reached the highest tower, the umbrella unfurled by itself and rain began to fall—though the clouds were nowhere to be seen. The rain tasted of old ink. On the topmost sill lay a single word, damp and precise: upd. Around it, letters were arranged like constellations: dn ky kng crh dus ans wtch bas en spziper to par.
They decided to search for the rest. Pziper set his compass to the hush beneath the palace and the child held the umbrella like a small, hopeful sun. They crossed the grammar bridge—its planks were idioms—and pushed through alleys where adjectives grew like vines. Each clue they found was a word gone soft: a tavern called Sans, an abandoned train labeled Swtch, a bakery whose windows read Basen. At every stop, Pziper traced the air with his needle and fixed tiny stitches into the city's cloth—hefting syllables back onto their hooks.
No one remembered when the palace lost its name. Locals only knew the rumor: once the king Dnkykngcrh tried to trade his voice for a map that could thread every secret back into the world. The map arrived folded into a matchbox, its lines trembling like live fish. He opened it on a stormless night and read until the stars rearranged themselves. When dawn came, his name had slipped out of his mouth and walked away like a careful animal. Without a name, the king kept wandering the palace halls, listening for syllables that sounded like home.
Here is a short story centered around the digital hunt for this specific file. The Ghost in the Partition
You meant a password or passphrase and want guidance on creating secure passphrases and managing them safely.
These popular features make their return in Torchlight II in improved form. More choices, better effects, and your pet will still make the run to town to sell your loot so you don't have to.
Want to make your own levels and characters? With GUTS, the Torchlight II editor, you’re using the exact same tools we used to make the game. Check out the official wiki to start creating new experiences and share them with the world.
Torchlight II also supports Steam Workshop, allowing for automatic mod subscription and synchronization. Choose from over a thousand mods and bend the game to your will. Or create your own and share your work with the entire world!
