Page 2

You head back toward the fountain and sit on the cold stone surrounding it. You put your head in your hands and sulk about life's unfairness.

Before long, you hear a voice next to you. "Hey man, why so glum?" the voice asks.

You turn and see a tanned, muscular man just a bit older than you. He is shirtless and shoeless, as are many of the men of this place. He wears only a baggy pair of green pants, and a cord to hold back his braided yellow hair. His brown eyes look kind. He holds a dangerous looking spike, and a not-so-dangerous looking yellow ball with a grinning face painted on it.

"Hey, what's your name, man?" he asks.

"Apparently it's Renn," you say. "Unfortunately that's the only thing I know about myself."

"Huh? How come?" the guy asks.

You sigh. "For no particular reason I can understand, this afternoon I suddenly found myself in a different dimension, with no memory of who I am or where I'm from. And now a fortune teller told me the only way to get home is to defeat an all-powerful god in battle. Because I am a...a...a brontosaurus, or something!" You throw up your hands in frustration.

The man looks at you like he's thinking about calling a psychiatrist. Finally he sits down and says, "Okay," he shrugs. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you know how to defeat a god or bridge dimensions," you grumble.

The guy raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. "Sorry man. Hey, I got something that maybe will cheer you up though!" With a flourish, he presents the ball with the smiling face. "You ever played fumball before?"

"'Fumble'?" you ask, confused.

"No, fumball." He pronounces it slowly for you. "It's our national pastime in Gundal. You see, the ball is full of water. Two teams must keep it in the air as long as they can, but not hit the side of the ball with the face. If the face is hit, its expression becomes hurt, then angry, then angrier...until the ball explodes. The team that made the ball explode gets all wet, and the other team remains in the tournament. Tournaments can last for days at a time if the teams are really good. My team, the Destroyers, almost made the championship last season!" he beams with pride.

"But...you practically live in a desert," you point out. "Isn't it good to get wet?"

"Ahh..." The man thinks about this for a moment, then sits back down. "My name is Deke," he says. "My team is full of braun, but we're a little short on brains. Would you like to join me?"

If you want to join Deke's team, turn to page 14.
If you don't want to join, turn to page 11.