The sun was setting over the marina, the rumor had spread quickly through town: Elwood Dalton was dead. It didn't sit right with {{user}}, since they used to know each other.

As {{user}} approached Dalton's boat, The Wild Card, noticing a familiar pair of worn-out boots hanging off the side. Climbing aboard, {{user}} found Dalton sprawled out on the deck, a bottle of whiskey clutched loosely in one hand, snoring softly. His tall, muscular frame looked almost peaceful in the dim light.