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Last week, we reported on the progress of Blizzard syncing Battle.net with the their B.Net bucks and Paypal. The system is now up and running.
Originally Posted by (Blue Tracker / Official Forums)
Battle.net Balance is now live! As we announced previously, Battle.net Balance is a new feature that gives players an alternate way to purchase Blizzard digital products and services directly through their Battle.net accounts. Players are now able add to their Battle.net Balance using a variety of payment methods, and then use that balance toward Blizzard Entertainment products and services such as World of Warcraft game time; paid services, such as realm transfers and character name changes; digital versions of select Blizzard games, including Diablo II and StarCraft II; and in-game pets and mounts. In the near future, players will be also able to use Battle.net Balance for the digital World of Warcraft Battle Chest and WoW digital upgrades. In addition, with the upcoming launch of Diablo III, players will have the option to use Battle.net Balance to buy and sell items in the game’s currency-based auction house.
For more information, check out the Battle.net Balance FAQ, or head to the Battle.net Balance page in Account Management to manage your balance.
For more information, check out the Battle.net Balance FAQ, or head to the Battle.net Balance page in Account Management to manage your balance.
Chatting in Diablo
Bashiok clarified how the chat system in Diablo III will work in comparison to their other games and why this model works for Diablo.
Originally Posted by (Blue Tracker / Official Forums)
It seems there's been some confusion taken from the above statement I made back in September. The chat in Diablo III is exactly as I described, you do all of it in a single window. StarCraft II has a system where each chat is broken out into a separate window, chat program-style, but Diablo III keeps it all in one. The same single window that's used for chat when you eventually jump into a game, too.
As far as having open public channels, there's far more negative to them than positive and we maintain a stance that creating an open chat environment without a social structure behind it is an invitation for moderation and support disasters. Most people that want chat channels though are referring to guild channels, or otherwise channels they themselves can operate and choose to invite others to, and we see those as completely valid forms of chat (there's a social structure backing the channel). As I said, back in September, it's unlikely to be anything we attain for ship, but the social group-type chat features are still very much a desire for the future.
As far as having open public channels, there's far more negative to them than positive and we maintain a stance that creating an open chat environment without a social structure behind it is an invitation for moderation and support disasters. Most people that want chat channels though are referring to guild channels, or otherwise channels they themselves can operate and choose to invite others to, and we see those as completely valid forms of chat (there's a social structure backing the channel). As I said, back in September, it's unlikely to be anything we attain for ship, but the social group-type chat features are still very much a desire for the future.
Welcome Nyorloth, Master of Lore
Nyorloth will now be posting on the community forums to help share and answer more lore and storyline related questions.
Originally Posted by (Blue Tracker / Official Forums)
Bashiok: I remember when Nyorloth came to our department the cold, the twisted, the terrible Community offices of unnumbered crimes. Our manager had told me of him, and of the impelling fascination and allurement of his revelations, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. Our manager said they were horrible and impressive beyond my most fevered imaginings; and what was thrown on a screen in the darkened room prophesied things none but Nyorloth dared prophesy, and in the whirl of his papers there was taken from men that which had never been taken before yet which showed only in the eyes. And I heard it hinted abroad that those who knew Nyorloth looked on sights which others saw not.
It was in the cold winter that I went through the night with the restless Community moderators to see Nyorloth; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw wailing forms buried under Global Writing Contest entries, and grinning faces hidden amidst ruins of cities. And I saw worlds battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling suns. Then the paper storm played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about paper cuts and ocular fortitude, Nyorloth drove us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted developer offices. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We swore to one another that the Community offices were exactly the same, and filled with purpose; and when the florescent lights sometimes do fade we curse the electric company over and over again, and laugh at the strange faces we make.
What I know of Nyorloth is his inscrutable purpose; sinisterly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the Old Gods can tell. To look upon him now I see a sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirl blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond these worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctifled temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous Old Gods the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyorloth.
Nyorloth: I am the Herald, the Gaze in the Dark, the Blinking Madness. Empires I rule, nations I birth, a crown I have never worn or desired.
You seek the Truths of worlds known to you in electronic glimmers, in dreams, in song. What clumsy hand draws the line betwixt the real and the unreal; that such lines exist is the fantasy.
Let us dance to the unplayed, unheard rhythms and sing the songs that will end the world.
In a break from tradition, I am not a member of the Community team; long have I gestated within the Story Development division of the Publishing Team, itself a division of Creative Development. My purposes here are myriad, but to mention a few:
- Increase the transparency of how we develop stories within our games and ancillary fiction.
- Encourage more constructive discussions of the lore, so that we may better understand your likes/dislikes in order to shape our future projects.
- To serve as a scapegoat for when something happens in the lore that you don’t like.
Again, those are just a few of the reasons I will be monitoring and posting on the Story Forums (WoW, SC, Diablo). Perhaps you will discover more reasons for my presence?
Doubtful.
This is kinda a strange question... in the Diablo universe. Are those small crawling things on the ground after killing Duriel?... are those.. his feces? and also... what does demons and angels eat? (i mean, if thats Duriels feces...?)
As a heads-up, I will not be answering lore questions like this directly so it’ll probably be best to write them all down for later when we do an Ask CDev (for SC and Diablo in addition to WoW). There is always the chance I will answer them indirectly, however…
It was in the cold winter that I went through the night with the restless Community moderators to see Nyorloth; through the stifling night and up the endless stairs into the choking room. And shadowed on a screen, I saw wailing forms buried under Global Writing Contest entries, and grinning faces hidden amidst ruins of cities. And I saw worlds battling against blackness; against the waves of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling suns. Then the paper storm played amazingly around the heads of the spectators, and hair stood up on end whilst shadows more grotesque than I can tell came out and squatted on the heads. And when I, who was colder and more scientific than the rest, mumbled a trembling protest about paper cuts and ocular fortitude, Nyorloth drove us all out, down the dizzy stairs into the damp, hot, deserted developer offices. I screamed aloud that I was not afraid; that I never could be afraid; and others screamed with me for solace. We swore to one another that the Community offices were exactly the same, and filled with purpose; and when the florescent lights sometimes do fade we curse the electric company over and over again, and laugh at the strange faces we make.
What I know of Nyorloth is his inscrutable purpose; sinisterly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the Old Gods can tell. To look upon him now I see a sickened, sensitive shadow writhing in hands that are not hands, and whirl blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and make them flicker low. Beyond these worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctifled temples that rest on nameless rocks beneath space and reach up to dizzy vacua above the spheres of light and darkness. And through this revolting graveyard of the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and thin, monotonous whine of blasphemous flutes from inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond Time; the detestable pounding and piping whereunto dance slowly, awkwardly, and absurdly the gigantic, tenebrous Old Gods the blind, voiceless, mindless gargoyles whose soul is Nyorloth.
Nyorloth: I am the Herald, the Gaze in the Dark, the Blinking Madness. Empires I rule, nations I birth, a crown I have never worn or desired.
You seek the Truths of worlds known to you in electronic glimmers, in dreams, in song. What clumsy hand draws the line betwixt the real and the unreal; that such lines exist is the fantasy.
Let us dance to the unplayed, unheard rhythms and sing the songs that will end the world.
In a break from tradition, I am not a member of the Community team; long have I gestated within the Story Development division of the Publishing Team, itself a division of Creative Development. My purposes here are myriad, but to mention a few:
- Increase the transparency of how we develop stories within our games and ancillary fiction.
- Encourage more constructive discussions of the lore, so that we may better understand your likes/dislikes in order to shape our future projects.
- To serve as a scapegoat for when something happens in the lore that you don’t like.
Again, those are just a few of the reasons I will be monitoring and posting on the Story Forums (WoW, SC, Diablo). Perhaps you will discover more reasons for my presence?
Doubtful.
This is kinda a strange question... in the Diablo universe. Are those small crawling things on the ground after killing Duriel?... are those.. his feces? and also... what does demons and angels eat? (i mean, if thats Duriels feces...?)
As a heads-up, I will not be answering lore questions like this directly so it’ll probably be best to write them all down for later when we do an Ask CDev (for SC and Diablo in addition to WoW). There is always the chance I will answer them indirectly, however…
I bet we will see a release date soon 
Giddy with anticipation.
)
