<div class="floatleft">(http://static.manatalks.com/www/images/posts/sorin-markov-dark-ascension-black-planeswalkers.jpg)</div><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Soren Altgeist III<br/><strong>Race/Position:</strong> Vampire Leader of the Outsiders<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Home of H. Bronk (Deceased)<br/><strong>Time:</strong> Day 1, Evening<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> Ahri Latour, Isaiah Asher<br/></div><br/><hr/><br/>Soren reached over to dust off his coat, as he stepped forward, surveying the basement. Not furnished, just a cellar, really. A gun rack took up part of one concrete wall. Soren ignored the weapons, not caring for the weapons. Not a soldier, he thought, but armed. A hunter, perhaps.<br/><br/>His fingers ran across the surface of the workbench occupying the wall beneath the window. Tools, ammunition, a bag of nails. Nothing worth his time. Bronk, it seemed, was relentlessly normal. Still, whoever was still upstairs was clearly not. The police would not likely have returned, which meant that they too were out of place. That itself was interesting. Slaves, perhaps? Sent by some Royal to ensure the evidence was destroyed? That would be a most desirable turn of events, he thought.<br/><br/>Soren took a step further, turning toward a small fridge that occupied a corner. As it did, the sound of broken glass could be heard crunching beneath his boot. He looked down, first, shifting his foot to see the crushed bulb, and then, up, to see the fixture it had come from. It had not broken, but neither was it whole. Pulled down without being broken and set on the floor? A vampire had been there. Soren looked across to the other light in the ceiling. The light, when turned on would leave a dark corner in the basement. Interesting. Someone else's ambush, left overs from Bronk's visitor? It looked like a Royal method, quiet, careful. Only the body left behind said otherwise. He moved, with impressive speed to the corner, a chair, with a lamp beside it. He checked the lamp. It still had its bulb, but it was switched off, probably because it worked. He sat, then, leaning back into it, his hands resting on scrolls at the front of arms of the chair. It was an antique, but not old enough to have value. He could wait. If the humans were working for a Royal, they would have to investigate the noise they heard. If they didn't, he didn't need to bother with them.<br/>