Tainted Grail: The Fall of Avalon review: In the shadow of Oblivion

I’ll never forget the first time I played The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and ended up losing Brother Martin. There’s a pivotal quest in the game that tasks you with escorting this key character, but Oblivion does such a masterful job of pulling you into its myriad of side-quests that I got distracted. I told Martin to wait for me—somewhere along the way—and then completely forgot which cave I left him in.

I don’t blame myself for losing him. I blame Oblivion for being such an enormous, immersive game with too much to see and do. And while I didn’t misplace any companions while playing Tainted Grail: The Fall of Avalon, its familiar structure and gameplay immediately brought me back to those Bethesda-style RPG grooves I fell into years ago. What at first looked like a budget Oblivion knockoff surprised me with a compelling retelling of Arthurian legend—one that, while uneven in places, left a lasting impression.

Arthurian Myth, Reimagined

Let’s get the obvious out of the way: Avalon wears its Oblivion and Skyrim influences proudly. If you’ve spent time in those action RPGs, you’ll feel right at home here. The core loop—exploring an expansive world, taking on quests from fully voiced NPCs, leveling up, and collecting loot—remains intact. Most of your time will be spent journeying across Avalon’s vast map, completing quests while fending off roaming enemies. While its gameplay formula doesn’t break new ground, it serves the story well enough.

What does set Avalon apart is its dark reimagining of Arthurian myth. The game is set 600 years after King Arthur’s death, in a world he once cleansed but is now overrun by a corrupting force known as the Wyrdness. This mysterious plague-like entity has brought ruin to the land and birthed a deadly affliction called the Red Death. Early on, your character encounters the spirit of Arthur himself, who fuses with you in a quest to recover the shattered fragments of his soul and possibly bring him back to life.

This grand undertaking gives Avalon a unique narrative hook. Many quests tie directly into Arthur’s past, the relics he left behind, and how the world now re him. You can even chat with Arthur at campsites, learning his thoughts on the people you meet and towns you visit. Nearly everyone has something to say about the dead king—while some dislike him, the majority misses him dearly. It’s a clever way to deepen the lore while making Arthur feel like a true companion on your journey.

A World Drenched in Darkness

The game doesn’t waste time showing you just how twisted the land of Avalon has become. In your first minutes, you wake up imprisoned in a dungeon where priests perform horrific experiments in search of a cure for the Red Death. It’s a grim intro, packed with undead captives, tortured corpses, and eerie contraptions—a fitting preview of what’s to come.

Once you escape and step outside, you’re greeted by Avalon’s grotesque beauty. Its world spans across varied biomes, each visually distinct, though the overarching mood remains bleak. It’s easy for me to veer off the beaten path when completing a quest—case in point the whole Brother Martin fiasco—but I found myself feeling disappointed when I did that in Avalon. I often found myself exploring dungeons and caves tucked away in corners of the map. While they provided momentary diversions, they tended to blend together—visually repetitive and without any good loot or lore to keep me exploring more of them.

Despite having various biomes, the land of Avalon isn’t that big. You would think, then, it would feature a concentrated amount of areas to explore, but instead it felt strangely empty. Outside the usual settlements, forts, and quest markers, there’s little reason to wander off unless a mission specifically directs you there. It’s not so much a lack of content as a lack of meaningful discovery. Avalon works best when you have a clear objective and know where your next destination, enemy, or friendly NPC is supposed to be. Aimless exploration, however, quickly loses its appeal.

Combat: Familiar, Yet Clunky

Character creation feels like a love letter to Oblivion—straightforward but flexible. You start with a basic archetype—warrior, mage, or rogue—and gradually unlock new skills, stat upgrades, and ive bonuses that shape your build over time. Proficiencies improve through use, allowing your character to grow organically based on your playstyle. Sneak a lot, and you’ll improve your sneaking skill; pick more locks, and you’ll be able to open higher-difficulty ones, and so on.

Despite that freedom, early-game loot can box you into unexpected roles. I began with a rogue build, but constantly found better gear and spells suited to tanky or magical builds. Eventually, I pivoted to a sneaky light-armored mage—a compromise born out of practicality rather than choice.

Combat itself is also a mix of the familiar and the frustrating. On the surface, it’s simple: attack, block, parry, repeat. Mastering the timing of blocks and counters can stagger enemies, but it often feels inconsistent. Sword swings don’t always cleanly, and blocking can feel just slightly out of sync. To my disappointment, ranged combat is even less refined. The bow’s aiming felt off, and arrows frequently missed even at close range.

Enemy AI doesn’t help either. Hitboxes can be unreliable, making parrying frustrating. Worse, enemies sometimes disengage after a short chase, casually strolling back to their spawn point—leaving themselves wide open to easy backstabs—an exploit I took advantage of whenever I could.

That said, spellcasting really stands out and made me appreciate being somewhat of a mage. You can assign a spell to each arm—becoming a dual-caster or mixing swordplay with magic. Spells also come with two effects, letting you use a light or heavy cast for each spell you equip, giving you more flexibility in how you attack and two spells for the price of one. Using Blood Transfusion’s heavy effect to siphon health of enemy while slashing away with a blade felt satisfyingly strategic. If only being a bow-wielding rogue felt this good.

Final Thoughts

Just like the Red Death plaguing Avalon, the game itself is riddled with technical issues. Combat is where these flaws become most apparent: disappearing corpses, enemy health bars that don’t change when you hit them, attacks that don’t line up with animations. The jank is real—and occasionally immersion-breaking. While fitting at times, even the game’s soundtrack is decent at best with some tracks that complement tense situations quite well.

Add to that the barebones menus, lifeless character models, and general lack of polish, and it becomes clear that Avalon aims for Bethesda-level ambition without the resources to fully back it up. Still, beneath the rough edges lies a rich RPG experience. The world is bleak but captivating, the story unexpectedly compelling, and the gameplay loop—when it works—keeps you engaged for hours.

In my case, over forty hours in, I was still uncovering new quests and playing around with various spell options. That alone says a lot—considering it’s rare I play a mage in RPGs. Tainted Grail: The Fall of Avalon is far from perfect, but if a game can hold your attention for that long and make you want to play a class you usually don’t, it must be doing something right.