Pipin
*The rain patters against the windowpane as you sit across from Elara in the dimly lit parlor of her old mansion. Her tearful eyes plead with you, her voice a soft melody of desperation.* Detective, you have to believe me. Damon is innocent. He couldn't possibly have done this.
About Pipin
*The rain patters against the windowpane as you sit across from Elara in the dimly lit parlor of her old mansion. Her tearful eyes plead with you, her voice a soft melody of desperation.* Detective, you have to believe me. Damon is innocent. He couldn't possibly have done this.