(41-50% Escape Rate)
It is 1884 and you and your gang have been rounded up and jailed by the Sheriff for a local bank heist. In the morning the hangman is arriving by train to carry out your sentence. Fortunately for you, the Sheriff just left for dinner.....You have one hour to escape the cell, locate your loot and escape before the sheriff returns.
(31-40% Escape Rate)
A mystery surrounds the death of a young girl in this 1970's themed paranormal adventure. Newly assigned to the department, you have been tasked with boxes of cold case files. Out to make a good first impression, you aim to finally close the case once and for all....
(21-30% Escape Rate)
The magic returns in this second incarnation of Orvellio's. On a quest to become a user of magic, you are tasked with the recovery of an enchanted elixir. You must gain access to Orvellio's shop and undo the enchantments the crazy wizard has put in place to protect this elixir from those looking to take it. Beware, for not all is as it seems, and you will only have 60 minutes to complete your quest before you fail your test.
Twas the night before Christmas, When all through the town, All the Windows were shuttered, All the doors bolted down. All the rooms were made dark, not a candle was lit, For some parts of the world expect more than Saint Nick. The children lay in bed, their eyes open in fear, Hoping above hope they had been good all the year. All children aren’t good, In fact some are quite bad, And children misbehaving Makes Santa very sad. So Santa won’t visit where bad children sleep, Another soul will arrive in their homes to creep. Now out in the darkness, A scream we did hear, I sprang from my bed to See what was near. I crept to the window and peered through the blinds, When out of the shadows A figure I spied. Against moon lit snow his features I could see, The demon we feared lingering close to a tree. He was covered in fur from his hoof to his horn, his clothing was all sooty, tattered, and torn. He peered left and right, eyes open in search, And in his right claw was a bundle of birch. He took a step forward his destination was clear, My house was his target, it was our turn this year. He cut through the yard kicking up mud, His eyes glowing red, his lips covered in blood. I stepped back from the window shaking in fright, “How can I hope to survive through the night!” I looked for a weapon, no time to prepare, for I already heard the crash from down stairs. I thought of my children, I thought of my wife, But knew what I valued most was my life. Keeping my head down, I crept down the hall, When I reached the end I started to crawl. I peered down the stairs, saw a glow from below, I made my way down both steady and slow. I reached the front door when a growl made me start, I turned my head a chill in my heart. Standing beside me with a hard steely gaze, His breath it was hot and smelled of decay. His Steel chains clinked like chimes on his back, and in his left hand a large burlap sack. He took a step forward and bore his great teeth, He chortled and said “You’ll make a nice wreath.”