Here's my simple review. Star Wars: The Old Republic is not fun. The animations look dated, and the endless conversations are tedious. Diablo 3 is fun, you'll instantly feel like you're controlling a champion in a life or death struggle, and it's easy to ignore the dialog. The thorough Diablo III Signature Series Guide will help you find and craft the best loot and get the most of whichever player class you choose (I favor the barbarian because I like mindless clicking). The guide is currently 38% off at Amazon.
Mike Fahey at Kotaku has a good anecdote illustrating how good game design, and not endless moral choice dialogs is what makes exciting, immersive gameplay:
My level 14 Barbarian, accompanied by another Barbarian, level 16, and a level 17 Witch Doctor, were just about to enter the lair of The Butcher, one of the classic Diablo villains reimagined for the third entry in the series. I had already fought the boss several times on my Demon Hunter, so I wasn't worried about taking him down with a team of three. Sure, he'd be three times as powerful, but these were experienced players; this would be a cakewalk.Read on to see what happened.
As our parted descended the steps to The Butcher's lair, the Witch Doctor announced that he had to stop by home base to empty his inventory. As he did that, the slightly higher level Barbarian initiated the boss fight. Doing so brought up a pop-up, asking if I wanted to join. Figuring we'd just wait for the other guy, I declined.
This left the other Barbarian alone with The Butcher; a version of the boss tailored to a party of three, all by himself.
Did I mention we were playing Hardcore Mode?
In Diablo III's Hardcore Mode, the player's character only has one life to live. If your hit points reach zero your character dies — permanently.
Playing through Hardcore Mode normally is tense enough. At one point during the evening my screen flashed red (indicating severely low hit points) and I swear my heart started palpitating. It was only 14 levels, but the level of investment in this character — this survivor — was exponentially higher than that of a normal character with an infinite number of resurrections.
The Witch Doctor returned, but it was too late. We were locked out of the instance until either The Butcher or the Barbarian perished.
We sat there for ten minutes, watching the Barbarian's health bar emptying and then filling again in rhythmic fashion. When it dipped precariously low we held our breath. When it filled again we urged him on. We knew he couldn't see our text; he couldn't afford to look.
"This is probably worse for us," my non-engaged companion commented. I agreed. If the Barbarian fell, I would feel personally responsible for the death of another player. What would I do? Would I immediately log out in shame? Would I send the Barbarian a friend request followed by a heartfelt apology? My mind raced.
Eight minutes in the Barbarian earned a trophy, and the two of us cheered — until we realized it was the achievement for using healing wells 50 times. The Butcher's den features two conveniently placed healing wells. These are key to surviving the encounter, a fact our Barbarian friend seemed well-aware of.
(And then buy the game and guide.)