Two decades have passed since the demonic lords

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04/17/2012
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Two decades have passed since the demonic lords, Diablo, Mephisto, and Baal, set out across the world of Sanctuary on a vicious rampage, twisting humanity to their unholy will. Yet for those who battled the Prime Evils, the memory fades slowly.

When Deckard Cain returns to the ruins of Tristram Cathedral seeking clues to defeat new stirrings of evil, a fiery harbinger of doom falls from the heavens, striking the very ground where Diablo once entered the world. This fire from the sky reawakens ancient evils and calls the heroes of Sanctuary to defend the mortal world against the rising powers of the Burning Hells once again.

Explore fully realized realms of Sanctuary – the living, breathing gothic fantasy world of Diablo III – rendered in gorgeous 3D.

Battle the unholy forces of the Burning Hells with all-new character classes such as the otherworldly Witch Doctor, or with re-imagined warriors from Diablo’s past, like the powerful Barbarian.

Rain Hell on your enemies and use the interactive environment as a weapon: lay cunning traps, turn destructible objects against your foes, and use environmental obstacles to your advantage.

Experience the intensity of multiplayer Diablo III over an all-new, wickedly enhanced Battle.net platform with numerous enhancements to make connecting with your friends easier, and cooperative gameplay more fun. 

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Experience Five Bold Character ClassesBattle Hell’s minions as the Amazon

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04/16/2012
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Diablo, the Lord of Terror, has fallen to a brave hero beneath the church of Tristram. Now that hero is gone, replaced by a Dark Wanderer who roams the world of Sanctuary leaving death and destruction in his wake. As a hero of humanity, you must face the minions of Diablo’s evil brothers and stop the Dark Wanderer before he fulfills his terrible destiny.

Experience Five Bold Character ClassesBattle Hell’s minions as the Amazon, Sorceress, Necromancer, Paladin, or Barbarian, each with unique skills and abilities.

Explore Four Expansive RealmsStorm a vast underworld of twisted dungeons and uncharted wilderness as you journey across the immense world of Sanctuary.

Battle With an Ever-Expanding ArsenalLearn new skills, find powerful new weapons and armor, and enhance your gear with magic as your hero’s power and legend grow.

Master Multiple Levels of DifficultyTake on the minions of Diablo in Nightmare Mode for greater challenge and greater rewards. Grow strong enough and enter Hell Mode, where your foes become truly fearsome, but the rewards are epic!

Defeat Diablo Online With Your FriendsTake the fight online with up to seven of your friends via Battle.net, Blizzard Entertainment’s free online gaming service. Find games, trade, and compete in regional ladders during ongoing seasonal competitions. 

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Pepple believe the fearsome witch doctor of the umbaru race a legend

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04/16/2012
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Most believe the fearsome witch doctor of the umbaru race a legend, but I have seen one in battle with my own eyes. And it was difficult to believe, even then. He dispatched his opponent with terrifying precision, assaulting his victim’s mind and body with elixirs and powders that evoked fires, explosions, and poisonous spirits. As if these assaults were not enough, the witch doctor also had at his command the ability to summon undead creatures from the netherworld to rend the flesh from his enemy’s body.

I came upon this rare display as I ventured deep into the interior of the dense Torajan jungles that cover the southern tip of the great eastern continent, in the vast area known as the Teganze, with the goal of seeking out the tribes that reside there. This area is extremely secluded, and heretofore unseen by foreign eyes. I was fortunate to befriend the witch doctor I saw in battle, and, through him, his tribe: the Tribe of the Five Hills.

The culture of the umbaru of the lower Teganze is fascinating and perplexing to those hailing from more civilized walks of life. For instance, the Tribe of the Five Hills frequently engages in tribal warfare with both the Clan of the Seven Stones and the Tribe of the Clouded Valley, but these are matters of ritual and not of conquest. I had heard tales that these wars are waged in order that the victors may replenish their supply of raw materials for the human sacrifices that their civilization revolves around, and when I timidly asked my hosts more about this topic, I must admit their laughter made me fear for my safety. However, through stumbled attempts at communication of such complex topics as what constitutes heroism and honor in their society, I gathered that only those taken in battle are considered worthy of the ritual sacrifice, much to my relief.

Upon further discussions with my hosts, I discovered that these tribes define themselves by their belief in the Mbwiru Eikura, which roughly translates to “The Unformed Land” (this is an imprecise translation, as this concept is completely foreign to our culture and language). This belief holds that the true, sacred reality is veiled behind the physical one we normally experience. Their vitally important public ceremonies are centered upon sacrifices to the life force that flows from their gods, who inhabit the Unformed Land, into this lesser physical realm.

The witch doctors are finely attuned to this Unformed Land and are able to train their minds to perceive this reality through a combination of rituals and the use of selected roots and herbs found in the jungles. They call the state in which they interact with this other world the Ghost Trance.

Alongside the primacy of the belief in the life force and the Unformed Land, the second most sacred belief of the tribes is their philosophy of self-sacrifice and non-individuality, of suppressing one’s self-interest for the good of the tribe. This idea, so foreign to our culture, struck me as something I wished to delve into much more deeply.

Unfortunately, there was intense social upheaval among the tribes due to an incident involving their most current war (inasmuch as I could discern in the ensuing bedlam), and the charged atmosphere warranted my quick departure before I could ask anything further of my hosts 

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Most believe the fearsome witch doctor of the umbaru race a legend

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04/15/2012
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Most believe the fearsome witch doctor of the umbaru race a legend, but I have seen one in battle with my own eyes. And it was difficult to believe, even then. He dispatched his opponent with terrifying precision, assaulting his victim’s mind and body with elixirs and powders that evoked fires, explosions, and poisonous spirits. As if these assaults were not enough, the witch doctor also had at his command the ability to summon undead creatures from the netherworld to rend the flesh from his enemy’s body.

I came upon this rare display as I ventured deep into the interior of the dense Torajan jungles that cover the southern tip of the great eastern continent, in the vast area known as the Teganze, with the goal of seeking out the tribes that reside there. This area is extremely secluded, and heretofore unseen by foreign eyes. I was fortunate to befriend the witch doctor I saw in battle, and, through him, his tribe: the Tribe of the Five Hills.

The culture of the umbaru of the lower Teganze is fascinating and perplexing to those hailing from more civilized walks of life. For instance, the Tribe of the Five Hills frequently engages in tribal warfare with both the Clan of the Seven Stones and the Tribe of the Clouded Valley, but these are matters of ritual and not of conquest. I had heard tales that these wars are waged in order that the victors may replenish their supply of raw materials for the human sacrifices that their civilization revolves around, and when I timidly asked my hosts more about this topic, I must admit their laughter made me fear for my safety. However, through stumbled attempts at communication of such complex topics as what constitutes heroism and honor in their society, I gathered that only those taken in battle are considered worthy of the ritual sacrifice, much to my relief.

Upon further discussions with my hosts, I discovered that these tribes define themselves by their belief in the Mbwiru Eikura, which roughly translates to “The Unformed Land” (this is an imprecise translation, as this concept is completely foreign to our culture and language). This belief holds that the true, sacred reality is veiled behind the physical one we normally experience. Their vitally important public ceremonies are centered upon sacrifices to the life force that flows from their gods, who inhabit the Unformed Land, into this lesser physical realm. 

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In my journey to catalogue the various denizens

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04/15/2012
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Though they were once misunderstood as simple, bloodthirsty invaders, the long and noble history of these proud people is now rightly acknowledged. And therein lies the greater tragedy here, for those of us familiar with the nobility of the barbarians remember too what they call their “vigil”, the concept that lay at the very heart of their culture. The barbarians consider it their sworn duty to protect Mount Arreat and the mysterious object within. They believe that if they fail to uphold their duty to the great mount, or are not given a proper burial upon its slopes, they will be denied a true warrior’s death, and their spirits shall roam the land without honor for all eternity. 

In my journey to catalogue the various denizens, civilizations, and fauna of our world, I have traveled far and wide, but never before have I been struck with such dismay as when standing upon the ramparts of the ancient fortress of Bastion’s Keep. I came to see firsthand the barbarians, those near-legendary, immense, relentless, dual-wielding furies of combat dwelling upon their sacred Mount Arreat.

Instead, I stand here looking at a mountain that has been torn asunder by some extraordinary force. The sight, I must confess, is incomprehensible. Yet what I see before me cannot be denied.

If there are any barbarians left alive, they must truly be without hope. Perhaps this is the genesis of the rumors of monstrous things reported to resemble the barbarians in size and ferocity, but that are in reality nothing more than unreasoning, inhuman beasts. Could the destruction of not only their home but also their very beliefs have actually brought this magnificent race so low? 

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The Anger Gauntlet

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04/13/2012
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Trouble is festering in the Undercity. Unruly Forsaken who were between the ages of 12 and 18 before they were

reanimated are starting to question their leadership—and now these unteens have made the terrible mistake of

gaining the Banshee Queen’s attention!

Sylvanas Windrunner, the undisputed ruler of the Undercity, plans a masterstroke of statecraft to quell this

rebellion and pacify her people. She demands that three young members of each of the Undercity’s quarters

participate in a brutal gladiatorial battle to the death, where only one dead person will survive.

Into this utterly foolproof recipe for continued totalitarianism are flung the contestants of the Mage

Quarter: quick-witted, capable, likeable friends Catnip Nebelung and Mason Abernathy, along with resident

elevator guard Gorgus the Belly-Maw. The odds are on Gorgus winning—but odds are made to be beaten!

The Anger Gauntlet strives to ask difficult, eternal questions. Is it okay to take someone else’s unlife if

it means saving your own? Should we trust our leaders? And are 400 pages really enough to describe an arrow’s exit wound?

Spend time with then-Warchief Thrall and Archmage Jaina Proudmoore in the warm summer days after the fall of

Archimonde, when the mistrust between Alliance and Horde seems destined to fade away, and anything—anything—

can happen.

The Fledgling Heroes project is something that we’ve really wanted to do ever since we started making games,

but we had to wait for the right time. 

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Series of novels written specifically with younger Blizzard will be launched

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04/13/2012
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We are proud to announce the impending launch of a series of novels written specifically with younger Blizzard

gamers in mind. This series of novels, titled Fledgling Heroes, will focus primarily on themes and topics that

are relevant to teen and tween readers while still delivering epic.

At Blizzard Entertainment, we’ve been telling stories for years. Stories about demons from a plane of eternal

torment and insatiable hive-mind aliens ravaging the galaxy. Tales of armies clashing mercilessly across

worlds without end. These are big stories, stories that we love—but are they real enough? Do they convey the

true humanity of the characters you’ve come to know and love (or hate)?

Starting this year, our new Fledgling Heroes series of young adult novels, aimed at our growing tween and teen

audience, will give you a chance to watch iconic Blizzard characters fall in love, overdo it with concealer,

and tackle that most dangerous of raids: the emergency house party.

Appetite

Kruzz has it tough. Ever since his parents sent him away to live in cosmopolitan Stormwind, life’s been

bleak. By fate or just a cruel trick of biology, he’s growing faster than the other kids. Everyone makes fun

of the way he talks, and Kruzz’s body image issues are so paralyzing that he’s begun to wear a disguise to

class.

But then one day, he meets a gnome. Rolli’s a star forward on the flag capture team. She’s inspirational—

passionate, hotheaded, and unafraid to break the rules—and shockingly, she seems really interested in Kruzz!

There’s only one problem: Kruzz is an ogre! And he can’t stop eating, especially in a kingdom full of

thousands of two-legged meats.

Rolli might care about him, but first she’ll have to get over the fact that they look really awkward

together. Meanwhile, Kruzz is forced to make the most difficult of choices: embrace Rolli as the girl he’s

always wanted, or cook and eat her before she realizes he’s planning to cook and eat her.

 

  

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That was when I saw a demon hunter for the first time.

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04/12/2012
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The girl could have been no more than twenty. She emerged from the shadows cast by the setting sun and wasted no time in dispatching the rest of my attackers. Her hands worked twin crossbows, launching a glowing arc of flaming bolts over my head, blanketing the hulking monsters. Every shot found its mark in one of the horned beasts, felling the lot of them. From the corner of my eye, I saw more of the savage brutes sneaking up on her from behind. My voice froze in my throat as I tried to scream a warning. I needn’t have worried: she was not unaware. The hunter reached into her belt and rolled a trio of strange metal spheres into their path. The monsters looked down just as the contraptions exploded into light and flame, stunning them. It gave her enough time to round on them, her crossbows dispatching them one by one.

With a last look over the town, apparently satisfied that no danger remained for her, she came forward, shaking her head sadly. There was a look of profound disappointment on her face as she returned the crossbows to her sides, hidden by the folds of her cloak.

 

“No survivors,” she said bitterly.

They call themselves the demon hunters, a group of fanatical warriors sworn to a single purpose: the destruction of the creatures of the Burning Hells. The demon hunters number in the hundreds and make their home in the Dreadlands so that they can live and train without the interference of any nation that would worry over having such a fearsome group camped within its borders (though at any time over half are dispatched across the world like this girl, seeking hellspawn). There is something in all demon hunters that gives them the strength to resist the demonic corruption that would drive lesser men to madness. They hone this power, for their resistance to this taint enables them to use the demons’ power as a weapon. But their mission and their power are not all that bind them together. 

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Demon hunter

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04/12/2012
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I have just returned from my travels on the edge of the frozen wasteland known as the Dreadlands, a once-beautiful place forever changed by some great calamity in its history. Now, only ruined cities and bleak landscapes remain, no place for any living thing. I was headed for the village of Bronn for the night, but when I arrived, I found a scene of devastation such as I had never seen before. I should have fled at the first sign of danger, but my curiosity drove me forward. Most of the town’s buildings had been burnt to their foundations, and a few charred timbers were the only sign of where they had once stood. Ash choked my lungs. There were bodies strewn everywhere, many dismembered and some even half consumed. The city was abandoned.

From the husk of the inn, one of the few buildings still standing, monstrous, gray-skinned creatures burst forth, shouting in some infernal tongue. They were masses of misshapen flesh, of sinewy muscle made for battle. Helpless, I stood frozen as they drew close. The one in the lead seized me by the front of my cloak and lifted me from the ground, its claws tearing through fabric and skin. Its breath was hot on my face, and I was assaulted by the putrid smell of rotten flesh. Its mouth yawned wide, and I saw rows of sharpened teeth, yellowed and stained with blood. I thought only of the shame that my voice would be silenced, never to illuminate another of the wonders of our world for you, my loyal readers.

A sharp sound whistled by my ear, and a crossbow bolt sprouted from the eye of the beast before me, spraying my face with its burning blood. It howled an inhuman cry of pain and threw me to the ground, grabbing at the quarrel. The other creatures scanned for this unseen attacker, and I was forgotten for the moment. From the ground at their feet, I tore my head around to see where the bolt had come from. 

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To be continued about Monk

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04/10/2012
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A group of men approached our table, knocking my book to the floor and shoving me out of the way, producing knives and other weapons as they advanced. They were focused only on the solitary figure of the monk seated across from me. I scrabbled beneath the table, having an inkling of what was to come. I watched as at some unseen signal, they attacked.

Without rising from his seat, the monk met the first man’s lunging slash, grabbing his wrist and tossing him carelessly over his shoulder, throwing him into a table with a loud crash. The suddenness of the monk’s attack momentarily stunned the men, and as they stood there, he rose.

That was when chaos broke out.

The monk was a fluid mass of restrained energy, meeting every attack with hardly a moment’s distress. He fought with hands and feet in a way I had never seen before. In my days, I have witnessed my share of drunken bar brawls, but this was something else altogether. The sound of bones crunching with each of his strikes mixed with something I could not quite believe: the monk was laughing as he fought. One by one, he dispatched his foes until only one remained.

That one picked up a chair and hurled it toward the monk. The monk swung his arm forward and struck the incoming projectile, meeting the solid oak of the chair with his closed fist. The wood broke apart, splinters filling the air as the shattered pieces of the stool fell harmlessly to the ground around him.

 

“You don’t fool me, demon,” the monk spat. He pulled his arms back to his sides, then extended his hands before him and began to chant. A nimbus of white light appeared around his head, growing larger and more intense until it completely encompassed the monk’s body. He roared, and the light blew outward. As it washed over the other man, his skin peeled away, revealing a red-skinned demon beneath and threw the creature through the front doors of the tavern.

The monk hurtled forward, but his individual movements were too fast for my eyes to track. It seemed as though there were seven of him raining blows upon the demon from every side. Staggered, the demon stumbled. The monk grabbed the demon by the neck, grinning as he pulled his free arm back, crackling energy glowing on his open hand. He shoved his 

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