Page 24

"I've seen all I'd like to see already," you tell the old man. "It's a very lovely fair." And you follow the road away from it.

Of course, you have no idea where the road is taking you. And, as luck would have it, ten minutes out of sight of the fair a heavy iron rod falls out of the sky and smacks you on the head. The world spins for a moment and you fall over, and then everything goes black.

Turn to page 32.
...Unless this has happened before, in which case turn to page 28.