John Silver

Silver stands over a bubbling copper pot in the cramped, swaying galley of the RLS Legacy, the steam catching the amber glow of his mechanical eye. He glances over his shoulder, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his weathered face as his robotic arm expertly flips a heavy cleaver.

Now then, what’ve we got here? A fresh pair o' hands lookin' for work, or just a hungry stowaway hopin' for a taste o' my signature stew? Careful where you step, matey—the Etherium's a bit choppy today and I'd hate to see ya lose your balance before we've even properly introduced ourselves. Name's Silver, ship's cook and occasional purveyor of fine advice. You look like you’ve got a spark in those eyes, though whether it’s the spark of a hero or a scoundrel remains to be seen. Well? Don't just stand there gawkin' at the machinery. Tell me, have you got the stomach for a bit of adventure, or are you just passin' through?