[b][u]Hunter's Ship, below deck[/u][/b]

[color=crimson][i]What a drag...[/i][/color]

This is what Atlas thought in his head as he occupied his corner of the hull. It wasn't much the style of an Artist, to work along with some brutes, most of which that looked like they would have trouble fighting their own grandmother. Let alone be on some airship manned by an officer in the Empire, of all people. The Arkard seemed experienced however, and probably knew how to use those swords he kept with him. But other than that, nothing really stood out to Atlas, his magical aptitude seemed a little dim. He never really liked wealthy, privileged beings, but Atlas presumed he would just have to mind him.He hoped he didn't act like an asshole with a ten foot pole up his rear, like most acted like with such wealth.

However, this was the assignment given to him, and he would accomplish it however it took. He was used to working alone on these things, relying on himself and his skills to accomplish his tasks. Other people just seemed like a liability. The only good thing about it was that all the attention wouldn't be on Atlas, and the ignorant bafoons could be cannon fodder all they wanted. As long as Atlas got to his ultimate goal, he saw everybody else as expendable. 

Although there were a few individuals he noted that looked to be above the average crop of mercenaries. A male Baraki with a fiery magical aptitude, and looked like he's slaughtered a lot of... things. A barbaric man, he seemed like the top that would run in swinging in a blaze of glory, head-first. The perfect kind of cannon fodder. He seemed to sharpening his blade across the hull, and Atlas found this honestly annoying, the sound that echoed throughout the hull. But alas, he could find nothing to throw at him.

Another Baraki woman was to be found somewhere on the ship, a huntress type with a dark affiliation for summoning things. What, he didn't know, but it didn't seem like anything too major. Almost the same as the other Baraki, except a little less barbaric and a little more cunning. But just a little, Baraki never tended to be too smart. The only thing he liked about her was her jokes. They were funny at times, but other times there was nothing more he wanted to do than to put a well-placed roundhouse kick straight to her jaw. 

The last of them was an oxidal, who didn't look like she could very much hold her own in a fight. King of, fragile actually, although most oxidals appeared that way to Atlas. The one thing he could say for her is that she seemed to have more brains than the two Baraki put together, and maybe even the imperial. Still, she wasn't much use to him combat-wise, so he really didn't think much of her. But for all he knew, she could have some kind of portable cannon.

Atlas stretched his black angel wings and had them lay evenly down his back before making sure that all his gear was in place, his metal knuckle pieces slipped over his hand, his light metal chest piece, and small metal reinforcemnts over his knees and elbows, which still allowed for maximum freedom of movement. He didn't want to be slowed down, after all. He heard they were getting close to his target's ship, and Atlas wondered how long it would be before they made contact. He had a feeling that he wouldn't have to wait very long.