Diablo II Retrospective
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Despite my initial quibbles, I soldiered on, determined to protect my allies against the impure undead and to replenish their life whenever the stress of battle seemed too much to handle. My roommates chose a barbarian and a sorcerer. I was their less-useful bastard child. With feeble combat skills and moderately useful (if unspectacular) spellcraft, I could only watch as my teammates decimated armies of supernatural monstrosities. My support role consisted of hanging by the sidelines and cheering them on, basking in the glow of their supernatural brilliance. I was Ringo, in other words.
I was quite surprised to find that most of the game consisted of a complex dance between inventory management, entrepreneurial trading of discarded items, and opportunity-cost assessment. Do I keep the Ring of Shiny that gives me a +2 to Mana Regeneration and increases my light radius by +3, or do I equip the Fabulous Steel Ring of Oiled Muscle that adds +45 to my Attack Rating? Decisions, decisions. I knew that I would later find a ring that would do all of the above (likely to a more impressive degree) and imbue me with the ability to fold origami penguins. At that moment, however, it was the most important decision I would ever make.
