Atlas grinned at the briefing. "This news is quite...chilling.", Atlas said, promptly taking a drink from his bottle. The pun seemed inappropriate, but Atlas couldn't care less. He filed downstairs, passing his coworkers. [i]"Well, I guess the offensive team makes sense. Mitty and I don't care about cold, and the 3 others could wipe the floor with any half wit mage."[/i], Atlas thought as he ventured into his lab. He took out his knives, 6 in total, each with different capabilities. He put them inside a strange machine, a cross between a blender and an oven. Automatic enchanter. It would get them up to full power in time for departure. He circled around the lab, checking on the mandrake potion. It was a truth serum formula he had dug up in Italy, and he had been meaning to try it out. He still had quite some time before it was ready.

	After dealing with the mundane, he moved onto the large cabinet filled with various beakers and bottles. These were all his concoctions still in experimental phase, with some stable ones perched on the bottom. He grabbed three flasks of a glowing green liquid, and a small vial containing gasoline. After grabbing matches and his now sharpened knives, he looked back on the lab, wondering if he had missed anything. His eyes fell upon the beaten chest. Inside there was a bottle of vodka and a towel. [i]"A few Molotov's never hurt anybody"[/i], he thought as he grabbed the bottle. He turned to the closet. Combat time.

	It was cold out, but that didn't bother Atlas. He changed into his Victorian clothing, with one exception. He pulled another trench coat out of the heap of clothes. This one, which seemed to drain the air of light, had very minor protective wards inscribed. Better than nothing. He put it on, and continued on his way to the armory. 

	He went into the armory looking for something in particular. After sorting through the various boxes, he came across it. A small thermos, with spells to make whatever lie inside taste like hot chocolate. He ran back to the lab, quickly saying, "Put it on my tab", as he filled the container with blood. Armed with knives, bottled fire, and hot chocolate, Atlas was prepared. He made his way into the storage room.

	Arriving in the room, he stated,"Vermont. Why did it have to be Vermont. Last time I was in Vermont..", as he continued into one of his trademark rants.