Gamers' Quest Read Online Free PDF

safe, and oh-so-carefully turned the tumbler – left two, right five, left one, pause, left one again, right three. Click!
    ‘Damn, I is good.’ Zyra smiled as she swung the safe door open. She reached in and grabbed the key.
    A heavy hand came down onto her shoulder and spun her around.
    She was face to face with a large, extraordinarily fat man in a black suit, with a red cravat concealing the fleshy folds of his neck. The Fat Man from the portrait.
    ‘Well, well, well,’ wheezed the man with difficulty, sounding decidedly unhealthy. ‘Lucky me for listening to a snitch's tip-off.’
    Zyra winced at the garlic breath, and went for her knives.
    Despite his bulk, this guy was lightning quick. One doughy hand suddenly had her knife arm pinned to the wall and another tightly clasped around her throat. Zyra's free hand desperately clung to the card-like key.
    ‘You're so fragile,’ said the Fat Man, his triple chin waggling as he spoke, his dark eyes flashing with barely concealed excitement. ‘It would take so little effort to clench my hand into a fist and crush your pretty little throat.’
    He tightened his grip, making Zyra gasp for air. A grey haze washed over her vision. Unconsciousness was seconds away.
    In desperation Zyra flailed out with her legs, kicking the Fat Man in the groin. He immediately let go and doubled over in pain. Zyra gave him another kick for good measure and then, with the key in hand, she ran down the stairs and out of the house, gasping for breath as she went. As she skipped over the trip-lasers in the grounds, the Fat Man stuck his head out of the top-storey window. Unintelligible words boomed across the grounds and the topiary gargoyles rustled into life.
    ‘Magik!’ said Zyra, still gasping. ‘I didn't know this fat guy hads magik.’
    She increased her pace, dodging around the lumbering shrubbery, and wishing she had knifed the Fat Man before running off. After a few moments of confusion in which they came to terms with their sudden animation, the gargoyles gave chase. Four of them came afoul of the trip-lasers, reduced to mulch in seconds flat. But the remaining two continued the pursuit.
    Zyra reached the wall and was at the top in seconds. But the leaves and branches of a pursuing gargoyle were suddenly wrapping themselves around her ankles. Zyra hacked at them with one of her knives, and then flung herself over the wire, leaving the gargoyles to get tangled. But she landed awkwardly and stumbled.
    ‘Not quites so nimble this time, are we … my pretty-pretty thieving wench?’ said a familiar voice.
    Zyra looked up into the beady, bloodshot eyes of the Cracker and the point of a loaded crossbow.
    ‘You takes from me after I've fairly and squarely appropriated. And now I takes from you after you've appropriated.’ The Cracker chuckled. ‘And I gains the trust of the Fat Man for ratting on a fellow thiever.’ He took a menacing step towards her, cracking the knuckles of his free hand, one by one. ‘Almost even! Just needs to break a few fingers first. And maybe spills a bit of acid.’
    Thunk!
    Tark hit the Cracker over the head with the dragon's hefty bag o’ gold.
    ‘Told ya ’e wuz dangerous,’ declared Tark. ‘Lucky I polished off me dragon nice an’ quick.’

8: The Fat Man
    The Fat Man watched from his window as Zyra escaped.
    ‘Run, run, run,’ he breathed. ‘Run as fast as you can and as far as you like. In the end, it will achieve little more than sport for me.’ He smiled to himself. ‘And I do so like a good chase … so long as I win in the end. And I always do!’
    The Fat Man turned from the window. He slowly walked over to the safe and closed it, replacing his portrait over it. He then crossed the room to the drapes. At the snap of his fingers they drew back to reveal a large metal door. He reached a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out another key. He turned it over and over with his podgy fingers as if preparing to perform a card trick, then