"Lagarto wasn't always running shit. Before the Cuban there was Old Ambrose. Ambrose founded Undercity they say. The original King 'Neath. Laid the foundation after the Haunts migrated. He started it with the whores. They say some o' those torn girls in Lagarto's harem were inherited out of Old Ambrose' stable. He was the first, this Ambrose. This tall, barrel-chested Georgia cracker with a snow white beard with a mean look to him; he made that which laughs 'neath your feet. They say he was Haunt, but people felt at ease around the man."

That doesn't sound like us.

"It doesn't, does it? I heard older heads tell that Ambrose was never some Haunt, but some Lord playing at Haunt, all frustrated with up-above commotion; he saw adopting those Undercity boys as a quicker way to power than playing the surface game."

What happened to him?

"Couldn't say. Not with any certainty to it. They say one day he starts roaming the Undercity. "Where you headed, King Beneath?" they'd ask him. "Fuck off, Son, you bother me," he'd reply in that mountain man voice he got."

Doesn't sound like any Lord I ever met.

"Yeah, well Old Ambrose never cared for that Sovereign lark. Most from that time agree that his wanderings took him to the old salt mines under Dearborn, and that's where he stayed. Some Ordo coterie made a trip into those mines back in '93."

Let me guess, 'and that was the last anyone saw of them...'

"Well, not exactly, they say the coterie emerged out of those mines one year later, to the day, transformed, changed."

Changed?

"Those Dragons were Revenants."

Draugr?

"Yeah, them. Three got ashed. They say one's still rattling around down here. One never came out at all."

- Ron Shaw, the Lost Compiler, interviewing the Gray Lady of Delray

Rumour heard by all established within Detroit.