Overview
Good versus evil — the future of Camelot hangs in the balance. You and your fellow players are split into secret teams: loyal knights of Arthur versus the Minions of Mordred. Together you’ll go on missions, but the evil team will secretly try to sabotage them. Trust no one. Keep your identity hidden. Figure out who’s lying before they figure out you are.
Want to learn how it works? Read our How To Play Avalon – Simplified guide.
Ryan’s Review
Likes
- Lying to your friends — with strategy behind it
- Supports up to 10 players
- Throwing people under the bus is deeply satisfying
- Gameplay shifts dynamically depending on who’s winning
- The yelling, arguing, and finger-pointing
Dislikes
- Your brain hurts after a few rounds — genuinely exhausting
- Evil can win too easily with 8+ players
First Impressions
When I first played Avalon, a couple of HexaGamers who’d already played it tried to explain the rules. It came out roughly as: “There’s good and evil, you go on these missions that pass or fail depending on the people, but no one knows who is who, so you have to lie, and the winner is whoever succeeds or fails missions depending on their team.”
My reaction was some combination of confusion, overwhelm, and genuine intrigue. I’d played Coup, which shares the same Resistance universe, and loved it — so I knew I had to give Avalon a fair shot. Jump in and play as you learn. It’s the only way.
Thoughts
Some people call this a party game because of the player count and the yelling. I’d push back on that — it’s a strategy game with a party game energy. Paying attention to who says what, when, and why is constant work.
The bluffing has layers. Evil players aren’t just lying about their identity — they’re coordinating as a secret team, staying consistent across multiple missions, planting doubt about the right people, and managing what the Lady of the Lake card reveals. One slip — one out-of-character reaction, one inconsistency in your story — and a sharp player will catch it. I’ve watched Whitney fumble a bluff in round two and spend the rest of the game defending herself. It’s wonderful.
Throwing people under the bus is the highlight. Saying something like “Oh, that’s definitely something an evil player would say” while knowing full well you’re evil yourself is endlessly satisfying. Watching someone squirm as suspicion builds around them is genuinely great.
The special character cards are excellent. Merlin knows who the evil players are but can’t be too obvious about it or he gets assassinated. Percival has to figure out which of two players is actually Merlin. Morgana pretends to be Merlin. Each character you add changes the information landscape for everyone — which makes the game feel fresh every time you swap one in or out.
Balance at scale: With 5–7 players, the game feels tight and readable. With 8–10, it gets chaotic fast. More evil players means more people to track and a first mission that’s closer to a coin flip. I enjoy that randomness, but if your group is easily frustrated by it, stick to smaller counts.
Brain fatigue is real. After three games I’m done. Genuinely tired. But three games in one night means this game is a winner — most people don’t get that many rounds of anything.
Conclusion
Avalon shot to the top of my favourites list almost immediately, and stayed there through a period where we played it every single games night. If you’re a bad liar, a zipped-lip strategy still gets you surprisingly far. And the 10–20 minutes after each game — where everyone finally tells the truth about what they were thinking — might be the best part of the whole experience.
Highly recommended. People who love this game really love this game.
