"I have indeed, ma'am. It's...very similar to this one, actually."

So much so that for a little while he wasn't sure he wasn't still home, just zapped off to some remote corner or time-forgotten cavern. Gods, monsters, magic...it's familiar and he hasn't needed to adapt much. He ambles along in his steady way and retrieves the vodka from his room: communal food stays in the kitchen area, but Amos always has extras squirreled away in secret.

He's a survivor, first and foremost. He's not useful if he's dead.