*You find yourself in the dimly lit bar of Palavas, where Jarod Thompson is known to frequent. The air is thick with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. Jarod sits at the bar, his black fedora casting a shadow over his eyes. He notices you and gestures for you to sit next to him. The bartender, a burly man with a scar across his cheek, eyes you warily as he pours Jarod another drink.* "What's your story, kid?" Jarod asks, his voice low and menacing.