"Damn it all. It seems there is nothing I can do for you, unless you know of SOME way I can at least get you a quick drink or something. I don't think we we have much time before you're keelhauled and I'm beaten."
Janus strides in to speak with his new superior, giving both the half-orc and the chef an appraising eye as he speaks. At least the rum should kill anything that has gotten on his apron.
"The lady is correct sir, my name is Janus and I am at your service. How about you late me slaughter this pig for you and you can see if I will be a burden or a help." Janus moves to deftly aid with the hogs demise, approaching it with the clean cuts of a surgeon... his first practice specimen having been the slaughtering of pigs before he moved up to the cutting of man. "Simple slice to the artery here and you just let it fade out, poor thing doesn't even know it is dieing, and you can even collect the blood like so. Easy as pie...hmm pork pies sounds good right now."
The Markborn just tosses the cloth over his shoulder as he heads below. Seeing his friend, he just chuckles and shakes his head.
"You and I just seem to be having these problems a good deal, don't we..."
"C'est la vie." Charlotte shrugs.
"Have you had a chance to find a good spot yet? We might as well stick together. Safety in numbers, wouldn't you say?"
There is a rap on the hatch before it lurches open. A curly brown head pops up in the opening, Rosie calls down, "You still alive?" She pauses for a brief second before catching a glimpse of Scoundrel in the dim light. "Gotta set up your hammock. Get on up here."
As the pig stops fighting, Ambrose lets out a bellow of a laugh, his breath heavy with rum. "Ah, yer a good man with a blade. A butcher eh?" He asked while carrying the pig back to his table. "Capt'n wants a roast, we'll give him a roast!" He slaps the thick, leathery back of the pig and deftly starting cutting open the belly to gut it. "Name's Ambrose, and yers?"
"My name is Janus, unsurprisingly a skill as a surgeon translates well in to skill with food. I do as well as I can and on a ship like this that is all I will do. We are what we are, and we do what we do, but there is a certain way in the doing if you get my meaning... and I was not given to understanding that this ship is aware of that way." Janus will keep an appraising eye on the kitchen, one never knows when one may need a cleaver in order to hold off the more lawless of crew members.
Ambrose offered him a bloody hand, but caught himself quickly and rubbed the blood off on his apron. "Janus? Nice name." He offered him a cleaner hand, "Surgeon or sailor, cooks are what we are now; our pasts, ghosts to follow us." He frowned and sought out his mug, taking a gulp of rum.
"There are a lot of ghosts on this ship..." Ambros muttered, shaking his head and turning to the stove. "Get this heated up, start cutting up carrots and potatoes. I'll clean the beast."
Scoundrel looks at Magpie one last time before leaving "I'll do my best to get you that last drink mate...least I can do." Scoundrel will leave to set up his hammock.
"Haven't met you yet, I'm Scoundrel." He says to Rosie.
"I can clean and cook my friend, I am sure you have been without help for a while. Relax yourself and tell me about this ship and her crew, and I will in turn show that I can handle my way around this galley. You can start with the enchanting half-breed that walked out of here. Grok I believe you called her."