u/Fun-Fish4569

The Tales series usually consists of short episodes, around 15 minutes each. What this series tries to do is fill timeline gaps, expand vague backstories, or show the fates of characters we did not previously know enough about.

Because of that, how much you enjoy them really depends on how invested you already are in Star Wars lore. The more shows, movies, and animated series you have seen, the more likely you are to care about these missing puzzle pieces.

On paper, expanding untold eras and character backgrounds sounds like a great idea. You would expect that giving visual form to a mysterious past or a character’s final chapter would add emotional weight.

But honestly, for me, it did not really work.

I know many of you might think the short runtime is the main problem, but for me that was not really it. The bigger issue is that many of these stories feel unnecessary. In some cases, the mystery around certain characters is actually more interesting when it is left to interpretation.

The second main issue is the writing. The dialogue, character arcs, and the way these gaps are filled all feel extremely predictable, like storylines you have already seen many times before. For example, in the Ahsoka episode where she works on the farm and uses her power, the setup is so familiar that you can already tell where it is going. It completely removes the tension.

I’ve heard a lot of praise about Diablo over the years, but I’ve also come across criticism especially about its story being the weakest part. I’ve never actually played a Diablo game (or anything quite like it), and I’m not really into online play, so I’ll mainly be experiencing it for the story which I know is kind of ironic.

Before you read this (if you actually do), I just want to say: this is coming from someone trying Diablo for the first time. Everything I’m sharing is completely honest just my genuine thoughts and feelings as a new player.

Thanks for taking the time to read.

■ Story, Characters, Dialogue, Voice Acting

The game’s story is divided into five acts and is presented through two complementary storytelling styles, each offering a different perspective on the world and its events.

First style: cinematic storytelling

At the beginning of each act, a cinematic cutscene introduces the events and immediately immerses you in the atmosphere of the story. These scenes feel like carefully crafted moments from a film, where every detail is intentional. The voices rise when the moment demands intensity, then soften again in a natural rhythm without overwhelming the scene.

The voice acting feels highly realistic. Tone, pauses between sentences, hesitation at the right moments, and shifts in confidence all combine to give the dialogue a sense of life.

The visuals are equally strong. Camera angles, shot composition, and scene transitions are all handled with clear attention to detail, making the presentation feel cinematic in the true sense.

The acting itself is convincing as well. Fear, confidence, sorrow, and brokenness are not explained through words alone, but expressed through facial expressions and body language. Sometimes a single glance is enough to understand what a character is feeling.

Second style: narrative storytelling

After each cinematic, you find yourself in a strange and broken land, surrounded by its inhabitants. This is where the questions begin. Who are these people, and what happened to this world?

Through dialogue with various characters, the story gradually unfolds. Each character offers their own version of events, their opinions about others, and their personal experiences with the world. Some even go further, sharing parts of the world’s history rather than just current events.

As you complete quests, the inhabitants react to your progress, adding more context and commentary on what is happening. This creates the feeling of a living world that responds to your actions. The writing here is engaging and detailed without feeling repetitive or dull.

Between these two styles, there is a clear balance. The cinematic presentation delivers strong emotional impact and atmosphere, while the narrative dialogue expands the world and adds depth through interaction. Together, they create a richer and more immersive storytelling experience.

In my opinion, both styles are well executed. The dialogue is strong, varied, and enjoyable, with no unnecessary filler. The voice acting is focused on emotion, and each character feels distinct in tone and personality. You can easily recognize them through their traits, and if you are unsure, other characters’ opinions help complete the picture.

Despite the strength of the supporting characters, there are two main drawbacks.

First, the protagonist lacks a defined personality. While the game is an RPG and the player shapes the character, this also weakens the narrative connection in my opinion. A stronger personality or more active emotional responses could have made the interaction with the world feel deeper and more meaningful.

Second, the antagonists lack identity. They are meant to be feared, yet the story and dialogue do not fully establish that sense of terror. They are mostly presented as enemies to be defeated rather than fully developed threats. Even when you face them, they feel more like standard opponents than truly significant forces.

This becomes even clearer in one cinematic scene, specifically in act five , where one of the villains is presented in a way that clearly shows power and menace. That scene made me wonder why this approach was not used more often. It could have built real tension and made encounters feel more intimidating rather than routine.

The story itself is strong at the beginning, especially in the first two acts, where it establishes a compelling introduction that draws you into the world. The combination of storytelling methods and character writing makes the experience engaging.

However, in the third act, the writing quality drops noticeably. It feels like the weakest part of the game in terms of character development and dialogue. The characters feel flat, the conversations lack depth, and even the quests tied to them do not strengthen your connection to the story.

In contrast, the fourth act reaches the narrative peak. Important mysteries are revealed, many questions are answered, and the pacing becomes more impactful. In my opinion, this is the strongest part of the game.

The final act maintains a solid level of writing and provides a logical continuation of events, similar in quality to the early acts. However, the ending leaves a mixed impression.

The conclusion is realistic and acceptable, but not fully satisfying. Many questions remain unanswered about what happens afterward. I understand that Diablo III may continue the story, but it would have been better if this game had provided at least a stronger hint or clearer sense of closure.

Although the journey is long, challenging, and ultimately achieves its goal, the final moment lacks emotional payoff. It feels like the story closes abruptly after a long experience, without delivering a true sense of completion or resolution.

There is no strong feeling of relief or fulfillment, as if the story ends just before it says everything it needed to say. This is what makes the ending feel slightly below expectations, because it does not provide the closure the narrative seemed to build toward.

■ Gameplay

Diving into Diablo II: Resurrected’s gameplay really feels like stepping into a maze. It is difficult to even decide where to begin, or which system deserves focus first. So I will try to describe it in a general way.

At the start screen, you are given a choice between seven character classes: Amazon, Barbarian, Sorceress, Necromancer, Druid, Paladin, and Assassin. Each one has its own abilities and distinct playstyle.

The character I chose is the Necromancer. This class has a wide skill tree built mainly around dark magic and summoning the dead. The tree includes around thirty skills. Some spells reduce enemy defense, others lower their health or increase the damage they take. There are abilities that force enemies to attack each other, and others that let you summon a poisoned spear or detonate corpses to deal massive damage to groups of enemies.

You can also completely ignore most of these spells and focus entirely on summoning. You can raise skeletons, summon golems, and even revive fallen enemies to fight for you. Then you can support this army with abilities that strengthen their damage and survivability, turning them into your personal force on the battlefield.

Just looking at a single skill tree makes you think for a long time. Which skill should I choose? Which ones work well together? Which path is worth committing to? In the end, everything depends on your choice. There is a lot of freedom in how you build your character, and many possible directions to take.

However, it is not the kind of freedom that fully encourages experimentation.

Every level up gives you one skill point, with a maximum of around 120 points in total. Each skill can be upgraded up to 20 points, increasing its power, range, duration, or the number of summoned units you can control.

The problem appears here. Once you invest points into a skill, there is no real way to take them back. Yes, early in the game and during certain story quests you may get a chance to respec, but it is only a limited opportunity.

This creates a clear contradiction. The game gives you a large number of options, but not the freedom to truly experiment with them. Before investing points, you need to already know exactly what each skill does, its strengths and weaknesses. In most cases, this does not come from in-game experimentation, but from external research.

In other words, the trial-and-error system is almost absent. For me, this is one of the biggest downsides in a game that offers such a large and complex skill system, but does not fully support discovery through play.

The same idea applies to attributes. Their role does not change gameplay as directly as skills do, but they are still essential for progression. With each level, you receive three attribute points that can be distributed among Vitality, Strength, Energy, and Dexterity.

Vitality increases health and stamina, improving your survivability in combat. Strength increases physical damage. Energy increases mana for casting spells. Dexterity is the most complex attribute, as it is tied to the attack and hit system.

When fighting enemies, there are two main ways to deal damage: using spells, such as a fireball that hits directly, or using physical attacks with a weapon. Physical attacks, however, do not guarantee a hit. Each swing has a chance to either hit or miss.

This chance depends on a comparison between your Attack Rating and the enemy’s Defense Rating. For example, if your Attack Rating is 100 and the enemy’s Defense is 50, you may have roughly a 50 percent chance to land a hit.

The same applies when enemies attack you. Their attack is compared to your defense to determine whether they hit you or miss.

Then there is an additional layer of complexity: shields. A shield may have, for example, a 70 percent chance to block an incoming attack. This means the game first checks whether the shield blocks the hit. If it fails, then your defense is checked, and the final outcome is decided.

All of this shows how even the simplest systems in the game are mathematically deep and interconnected. Interestingly, most of these calculations are strongly influenced by one attribute in particular: Dexterity.

This is why attributes feel different from skill trees. They do not directly change your playstyle in an obvious way. Instead, they work in the background, supporting your character and ensuring survival. They may seem simple at first glance, but they become essential as the game progresses and difficulty increases.

The most complex layer is tied to the gear your character wears: armor, gloves, helmet, weapon, boots, gems, jewels, and belt.

Simply put, every time you kill an enemy, there is a random chance for an item to drop. You do not know what it will be, what type it is, or even its rarity. Everything is governed by luck.

Honestly, it is hard to judge whether this system is good or bad. You might defeat a powerful enemy and receive nothing useful, or you might kill a weak one and suddenly get a rare and powerful item. There is no real way to predict what you will get, so you end up facing luck itself.

This naturally raises a question: how can this system be considered fair? And can luck truly allow you to build gear that matches your character’s stats and skills?

The answer to the first question is simple. This system is not fair in the traditional sense. You might kill hundreds of enemies searching for a specific item without ever finding it, while another player gets it on their first try. It may look like equal opportunity rather than fair results, but even that is not accurate, since the probabilities themselves are not stable. In the end, it feels neither fair nor equal, yet still strangely engaging.

You begin to notice why during actual gameplay. At the start, your inventory is very limited and fills up quickly. This forces you to open a portal back to town, sell your loot, then return to combat.

You kill enemies, your inventory fills, you return to town, sell items, then repeat the cycle again. Kill, collect, sell, return.

I am not exaggerating when I say this is what you will be doing for the next sixty hours of the game. Yes, you will face a wide variety of enemies, dozens of types of demons, undead, beasts, and humans, each with their own behavior. Some attack from range, others rush directly at you. They appear in waves, and at the end of each act you face a boss with unique abilities and weaknesses that provide a real challenge.

But despite this variety, the core loop remains unchanged: kill, collect, sell, return.

Over time, this repetition makes you fight the same enemies again and again without fully noticing their differences, even though they are well designed. Still, the repetition has an addictive quality that is difficult to explain.

I cannot pinpoint the exact reason, but I always find myself wanting to continue. I repeat the cycle, look at the loot dropped by chance, decide what to keep and what to discard, then go back into combat again.

Can this system be criticized? Absolutely. The repetition is clear and undeniable.

But at the same time, it can be appreciated, because that same repetition becomes unexpectedly enjoyable.

Maybe it is the limited inventory, the complete reliance on luck, or simply that small feeling that repeats every time loot drops: maybe this is the one.

As for the second question, the answer is simpler: no. If you do not know when the item you need will appear, how can you build a perfectly optimized setup?

Instead, you adapt to what you find. You build your character around the items you obtain, not around a predefined plan.

In this sense, it is a system that is not fair, not balanced in a strict way, and does not give you full control over character building. These are valid criticisms.

But the paradox is that these flaws may be part of its appeal. If everything were easily accessible and perfectly planned, the system might lose its charm. It would become more organized, but also colder and less exciting.

That element of randomness, and the moment when an unexpected item drops, creates a small rush that pushes you to keep going.

And maybe that is why, despite all its flaws, this system still manages to keep the player hooked, returning again and again.

The items you find in Diablo II: Resurrected form a system that is complex in itself. But let’s start with the simplest part: the gear your character wears, such as armor, gloves, helmet, weapon, and boots.

Each of these items has a rarity tier, which can be divided into several categories: normal, magic, rare, unique, and set items.

Normal items are the simplest. They only provide basic stats, such as defense for armor or damage for weapons, with no additional effects.

Magic items build on this by adding special attributes, such as increased strength, vitality, resistances, or bonus damage. They usually come with one or two modifiers.

Rare items go further, offering a larger number of magical properties, often with stronger and more varied effects.

Unique items have fixed, predefined properties that make them stand out with distinct and powerful characteristics.

Set items belong to themed collections. Their power increases when you equip multiple pieces from the same set, encouraging full gear combinations. However, the main issue remains the same: obtaining the remaining pieces depends entirely on luck.

Then there are socketed items, which are slightly different. These are normal items that contain empty sockets where other items can be inserted. They can have anywhere from one to four sockets.

There are two main types of items you can place inside sockets: gems and runes. Both provide magical effects, making socketed items somewhat similar to magic items, but with one key advantage: control. Instead of relying entirely on randomness, you can choose which effects to add yourself.

Runes add an even deeper layer. When placed in a specific order inside a socketed item, they combine to form powerful effects known as runewords. These can be significantly stronger than individual runes and create one of the most important systems for character building in the game.

Alongside this, there is also the Horadric Cube system. Its concept is simple, but its applications are deep. You can combine different items to create new ones. Through specific recipes, you can craft potions, gems, runes, rings, and even stronger equipment. These recipes are numerous and sometimes very precise, making them difficult to fully explore.

There are also mercenaries, AI-controlled companions who fight alongside you and support you in combat.

Despite all this complexity, the reality is different. In a single playthrough, you cannot fully take advantage of everything the system offers. You will not craft many items using the Cube, you will not explore most runewords, and you may not even encounter many set items.

You might ask why.

The simple answer is time.

Yes, you can spend around 60 hours finishing the story on normal difficulty, which is already a long experience. But the game is not designed as a one-time story you simply complete. At its core, Diablo is not a game that ends, but a game that continues.

It is built around repetition and long-term investment, encouraging you to spend hundreds or even thousands of hours. Because the only real way to overcome the randomness is not just skill, but time.

The more you play, the higher your chances of getting what you want.

I do not know whether this counts as a strength or a flaw. But I do know how I felt: a sense of frustration, even disappointment, when I could not try certain runewords I wanted, simply because my level was not high enough or because I did not spend enough time in the game.

The same applies to equipment. There are items I never got to use, not because they are unavailable, but because luck simply did not give them to me.

And here lies the paradox: the system is full of depth and possibilities, yet in a single playthrough, you may only experience a small fraction of it.

■ Level Design

Although each act has visually different environments, the overall structure of the areas is almost identical across the entire game.

In general, you encounter four main types of environments in each act.

The first type is large open areas.

These are wide spaces where you often feel lost, unsure whether to go right or left, up or down. You spend a long time exploring them, trying to cover every corner.

Inside these areas, you may find entrances leading to the second type: narrow environments such as caves. Here the pace changes. The spaces are smaller, enemies are denser and more dangerous, and the rewards are usually better.

Then you reach the third and fourth types: story-focused areas. This is where the design becomes truly distinctive.

Unlike the previous zones, which often feel familiar or repeated across many games, these areas show clear attention to detail. Each location has its own identity that makes you stop and look around.

You might see pools of blood, a head hanging on a wall, a body left on the ground. Blood-soaked books scattered across the floor, carved stone tablets, stained walls, torture devices, and empty prison cells. These details create a heavy, oppressive atmosphere that gives these areas a strong identity.

At first glance, this might seem excellent: variety in environments, different pacing, and strong design in story areas.

But this is not the full picture.

The reality is that level design is heavily based on repetition.

Those large open areas mentioned earlier are not unique. You will enter the same type of space again and again. You might walk into a green open field with large stone walls and a small house at the bottom, only to later find yourself in almost the exact same layout again. Same structure, same distribution, same details, repeated five or six times or more.

The caves are no different. You may enter one cave, only to realize later that you have already seen this exact layout multiple times, sometimes four or more, with nearly identical structure and design.

You spend long hours moving through environments that feel reused, with very little sense of real change or progression.

The story areas, however, are slightly different. They do repeat as well, but only once or twice. Perhaps this is why they stand out more and feel more memorable.

In the end, you are left with level design that is clearly dominated by repetition. Most of your time is spent in similar environments, while only a small portion, usually near the end of each act, offers truly unique and memorable design that matches the strength of the narrative.

■ Music and Art Direction

As mentioned earlier, level design consists of different types of environments, and each environment is accompanied by its own music.

The music is calm, atmospheric, and understated. It succeeds in creating a fitting mood for the world and blends well with its dark tone.

However, despite its beauty, it lacks impact. It does not evoke a strong emotional response, nor does it leave a lasting impression once it ends. It serves the moment well, but it does not stay with you afterward. You hear it, and then you forget it.

The art direction, on the other hand, is much more present and clearly defined.

The world is built around a dark and bleak aesthetic, relying heavily on visual horror elements: blood, corpses, hanging heads, torture sites, and decaying environments. This style is not just decoration, but a core part of the world’s identity.

In story-driven areas especially, this direction reaches its strongest form. The details are sharp, and the environments carry a real sense of suffering and collapse, making them more impactful than the rest of the game.

But the issue is that this strong direction, despite its power, falls into repetition.

Over time, these elements, no matter how shocking they are at first, become familiar sights. Blood is no longer disturbing, and hanging heads no longer carry the same weight.

In other words, the art direction is powerful in creating a strong first impression, but it does not evolve enough to maintain its impact throughout the experience.