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About Witch Hunt
There’s something about gathering around a table, eyes darting suspiciously from person to person, that makes Witch Hunt a total blast. You and your friends slip into the roles of villagers or hidden witches in a little medieval town, and before you know it, alliances form and trust evaporates as everyone tries not to be the next target. It’s quick to learn—each round flips from a frantic daytime vote into a tense nighttime phase—so you’ll find yourself back for “just one more round” before you even realize how long you’ve been playing.
What really sets this game apart is how smoothly it handles hidden roles. You don’t need a moderator or a phone app shuffling cards on your behalf; instead, the cards shuffle themselves and get passed around, so nobody ever knows exactly who holds what power. One moment you’re a humble baker, the next you glimpse your secret identity as a witch, and suddenly you’re scrambling to keep your cover in the village square. It’s light on rules but rich with bluffing, and every accusation feels like a mini courtroom drama.
The components are charmingly straightforward—some illustrated character cards, a handful of action tokens, and a clear set of role abilities that fit neatly into almost any group size. You can scale from a cozy four-player game to a larger party with ease, and the pacing never drags. On top of that, the little touches—like special abilities that only trigger at dusk or dawn—keep strategy fresh and give each player just enough wiggle room to surprise the table.
When the evening winds down, there’s this buzz of “Did I read that play right?” or “I totally tricked everyone!” And that, more than anything, is why Witch Hunt has this addictive pull. It’s equal parts quick wit, friendly deceit, and cheering or groaning depending on whose scheme unraveled. No matter who wins, you end up laughing—and maybe plotting your revenge for the next round.