Diablo 4 Vessel of Hatred review – Diablo 2, but even better

It’s a cold, snowy night in Sanctuary. Crowds have gathered around a stone plinth in Kyovashad, hushed into silence. Reverend Mother Prava stands before them, illuminated by flickering torchlight and, of course, the supposed reverence of the now-fallen Inarius. It feels almost like nothing has changed: Inarius and Lilith are dead, hatred’s heart has been pierced, and, like a mindless flock, Sanctuary’s denizens are thanking the High Heavens. From the onset, Diablo 4: Vessel of Hatred instills a sense of hopelessness; a reminder that our Wanderer’s journey will always end in bloodshed.

That hopelessness permeates every part of Vessel of Hatred, be it the narrative, sound design, or the sprawling jungles you explore. As someone who’s moved away from the RPG following a year of rocky seasonal content, it’s a stark reminder of what Diablo is: a never-ending saga of strife.

But Vessel of Hatred isn’t just more Diablo 4. It pulls the best parts of Diablo 2, combines them with the slickness of 3, and then expands and refines them. While you may walk away from VoH slightly perplexed by some narrative decisions or, alternatively, thoroughly disappointed, for me it’s the perfect Diablo experience – in fact, I’d argue that it’s better than the base game (sorry, Mother).

As someone who loves that voodoo-inspired swamp feel, I fell for Mephisto’s charms hook, line, and sinker, hanging on his every word, reveling in the chaos. While he is very much the star of the show, a new, mysterious second foe soon emerges, set up as the secondary ‘big bad’ to the infamous Lord of Hatred. Unfortunately, we don’t get as much time with them as I’d like, and while I’m sure their actions will cause ripples further down the line, their part in the Vessel of Hatred story was cut unceremoniously short.

There’s also the matter of the ending, which I imagine may disappoint some. For me, however, it’s a reminder of that hopelessness – the feeling that, no matter how many times we save Sanctuary, it’ll always be caught in the crossfire. Where Lilith’s death perhaps injected some light, Vessel of Hatred snatches that away and reminds us that, while his daughter had some grand plans, Mephisto and his brothers are very much the ones pulling the strings.

Yet there’s an enduring sense of humanity throughout the DLC. Nahantu, the jungle region that frames Vessel of Hatred’s action, has a motto: “where help is needed, help is offered.” The characters we meet on our journey are not the fanatics of Kyovashad, or the bandits stalking the sandy plains of the Dry Steppes; they are humans, pure and simple; humans who quickly realize their overarching mantra may bring about their downfall. Where Nahantu remains a bastion of hope in a world gone mad, its edges are frayed as the tale comes to a close, and its help is offered more sparingly as a result.

But I’d be remiss to talk about Nahantu without mentioning Kurast. While I loved Lut Gholein’s desert feel and the defiled churches of the Rogue Encampment in Diablo 2, Kurast was always my favorite zone. Seeing it come to life once more in Diablo 2 Resurrected brought a tear to my eye, but its depiction in Diablo 4 genuinely made my heart flutter.

Rope bridges connect wooden houses, Aztec-inspired step pyramids lead up to the main political chamber, and that weird Blade of the Old Religion is still there, suspended in a deep blue forcefield. Even our blacksmith, Ormus, who speaks in the third person and collects all manner of oddities, reappears and now sits at the head of the region’s council.

Beyond Kurast’s magical barrier, which has successfully kept Mephisto’s corruption at bay, there are some of the most beautiful zones I’ve seen in a Diablo game. In one dungeon, we part the seas and move through them, causing water to flow backward. A glimpse into the spirit realm illuminates everything in an underwater blue, wisps of spiritual silver light guiding your path. It’s a spectral world unlike the High Heavens we see in Diablo 3, or the Burning Hells of Diablo 4; it gives the afterlife a more raw, human feel, and seems like the perfect resting place for the pure of heart.

Dungeon-wise, the forgotten ruins and dense foliage are an ongoing theme, but the open-air feel is a nice contrast to doomy, gloomy caves or gore-filled torture chambers – everything feels natural, just like Nahantu itself. While I won’t spoil any fights, there’s one major battle where a battle royale-style ring closes in on you, and another where you’re dodging into tiny spaces to avoid waves of choreographed minions. Fights are dynamic and use their surroundings to enhance the action.

Perhaps it’s my fascination with Aztec architecture and the traditional shaman aesthetic, but Nahantu is easily my favorite Diablo zone ever made. There’s a majesty of a time long passed; an undying culture of selflessness where everything else feels selfish. It’s the perfect background for Vessel of Hatred, and the perfect place to inspire the game’s first new class in decades.

I am, of course, talking about the Spiritborn. While a part of me expected them to feel somewhat like the Amazon from Diablo 2 (a prospect I was far too excited about), I was absolutely blown away by how this class operates. Combining my two favorite Diablo 3 classes (Monk and Witch Doctor), the Spritiborn chains together fast, melee-focused attacks, and infuses them with the power of either the traditional elements or poison.

As a Poison Javazon player in Diablo 2, I immediately opt for the Path of the Centipede, which relies on stacking poison damage. It feels powerful from the onset – a couple of basic attacks turn my enemy’s health a deep red, as the toxins eat away at them over time. There’s something incredibly satisfying about walking away and hearing your enemies pop behind you; it’s like pulling the pin on the grenade and strolling into the sunset, but with more goop.

While I lean heavily into the Centipede track, I pick up Vortex, which hails from the lightning tree, represented by the Eagle. This pulls my enemies in, and they immediately start to hit me. I have Toxic Skin, however, which deals damage to anything that touches me, meaning their health immediately starts ticking down. I quickly combine this with Scourge, meaning I can fear my enemies, haul them in, infect them, then hit them with Stinger, a small AoE that deals damage to enemies within its radius, and anything that’s been poisoned. If things get dicey, I summon The Devourer, the Centipede God himself, who blasts my foes and, with a few upgrades, helps proc more poison. There are explosions everywhere, covering everything in sickly green goo, and I absolutely love it. Add in combat bonuses (yes folks, they’re back) and suddenly scoring a 15-kill Massacre feels amazing.

Toxic Skin is an absolute must for the Centipede-focused Spiritborn build, however. One of the things I love about Monk in MMORPGs like World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy 14 is the importance of correct positioning – hitting an enemy from behind, for example, often deals higher damage than just running at it. While there are no positional skills in Diablo 4, Toxic Skin leaves a trail of bubbling sludge behind you, encouraging you to use the class’ fast-paced, Monk-like movement.

What I will say, however, is that poison builds do shred through bosses at lower levels. Having played on Normal to ensure I got the whole experience before this review dropped, I tore through even the strongest bosses in minutes. Maybe I accidentally created something ultra broken, but given I’m no theorycrafter, I can’t imagine how Spiritborn will play in more technical hands than mine.

And that’s before I add in the Mercenaries. One of Diablo 4’s most-requested features, the system functions more like Diablo 3’s than Diablo 2’s, but with less faff and added bonuses. You’ll be able to switch between allies at the Pale Hand’s Den, operated by Raheir, the noble shieldbearer who loses his arm in an unfortunate encounter with one of the expansion’s antagonists.

You’re given a series of quests to scour Sanctuary for Raheir’s scattered allies, each of which brings their own unique set of skills to the fray. There’s Rahier himself, who provides some serious crowd control (CC); Varyana, the former cannibal who just tears things apart; Subo, the drunken archer who lays down ranged damaged from afar; and my absolute favorite, Aldkin, the devil child who acts as a shadow mage.

While Aldkin immediately stands out as my favorite because, well, he’s a devil, he’s not the easiest companion to work with. When he switches to his demon form, he applies Vulnerable to your character until the curse subsides. It’s a cool mechanic that adds some complexity to recruiting him, but his shadow damage is powerful enough that I chose to overlook it. Unfortunately, I needed a tank to keep enemies at bay to offset my Spiritborn’s squishiness, so I opted for Raheir and Varyana, but on my next playthrough, I plan to take Aldkin with me.

It’s still worth drawing upon all of your Mercenaries. Taking them with you increases your rapport with them, which in turn levels them. In order to do this, you’re tasked with taking down named foes and elite enemies – and trust me when I say Vessel of Hatred has a lot of elites. As you level your companions, you can teach them new abilities, and earn currency for bartering back at The Den – a fresh system that provides access to a rotating store of powerful items.

It’s a very minor complaint, but I’d have liked the Rapport system to be a little more personalized – if you’re running with Varyana at higher levels, for example, it’d be cool to see the system encourage you to kill cannibals. Each character is fleshed out (heh) incredibly well anyway – like everyone in Sanctuary, they have their positives and negatives – but this tiny little change would help round out their personalities.

But Vessel of Hatred borrows more from Diablo 2 than just Kurast and Mercenaries, as Runewords are back. Runewords were, for me, one of the standout parts of Diablo 2, but perhaps one of the most complex. In order to make them work, you needed a specific chain of runes which, of course, dropped at random. Think of it like a dictionary – each word needs its own constituent parts. That’s no longer the case in Diablo 4.

The new system goes as follows: you can combine any two runes, as long as one is a Rune of Ritual (orange) and the other is a Rune of Invocation (purple). You can equip up to two pairs of Runewords at a time, and you craft them at the Jewler.  So, for example, I chose Zan and Tal, which combine to create ZanTal – Transcendent Locusts. The Ritual part, Zan, means that when I cast an Ultimate skill, Tal, the Invocation part, activates, summoning the Spiritborn’s Pestilent Swarm to damage nearby enemies. As if my character didn’t have enough flies buzzing around her already.

Perhaps above all of this, however, there’s one thing that stands out for me in Vessel of Hatred. On the sheet of notes I have beside me, I’ve simply written ‘music incredible’ with a huge exclamation mark (or two, I can’t read my own writing). That familiar, grungy cello sting signifies the presence of Mephisto, and its importance to the final cinematic can’t be understated. In Nahantu, traditional music melds with soft, uplifting tones to signify that this is truly a place of good.

In one particular battle, angry stings slowly give way to the majestic, anthemic theme of our godly protagonist as the boss’ health begins to tick down. It’s a masterclass in musical storytelling and gives everything a grander feel than the base game.

And that’s what Vessel of Hatred does: it takes the entire series and expands upon it. VoH makes Diablo 4 the complete Diablo experience, from the integration and refinement of age-old systems to the introduction of a completely new class that blends some of Diablo 3’s underloved classes into one, high-powered killing machine.

It does raise questions about what the future holds, as Blizzard feels like it’s finally, to borrow designer Joe Shely’s words, “recaptured the darkness of Diablo 2” while also modernizing it. What comes next is going to be something completely new, and that, in itself, is exciting.

For me, Vessel of Hatred’s extensive list of new features makes up for the somewhat confusing curveballs in its narrative. I enjoy the sense of hopelessness that the concluding segment left me with – as I said before, the essence of Diablo is that neverending cycle of strife – and, quite honestly, I’m more excited now than I was at the end of Diablo 4. It’s Mephisto’s world, we’re just living in it, and I want more.