Name: Sergeant Phergys "Mac" McGhileigh, Human Male, Level 4 Fighter, CG, Sergeant in the Silver Crescents, City Patrol.

Submitted by: Erskine Fincher


Phergys, or Mac as most people call him, is 6'-2" and weighs 239 lbs. He has a large gut, a bristling red beard, ruddy complexion and receding hair line. Originally from the Moonshaes, he speaks common with a heavy brogue. He came to Arylon by way of Baldur's Gate. In his younger days he was a sailor on the Sea of Swords. He has visited all the larger towns of the Sword Coast, and some of the smaller ones, and can spin yarns about his adventures for hours. Why he came to Arylon is not known; it's the one thing he won't talk about. Rumours abound about him running from the law, running from various evil organizations, or running from a broken heart, but no one knows the truth except he. What is known is that he loves to sing songs about the sea when he's been drinking too much, which is fairly often. The songs are usually sad tales about sailors lost at sea, sailors pining for the sea, or women pining for sailors lost at sea. He has a squeeze box which he plays when he's drinking and singing. The best that can be said about his playing is that it's not too bad if you're drunk. He laughs easily at jests about his playing from his friends, but woe to the sarcastic stranger with an uncivil tongue.

His weapons of choice are the mace [specialized] and the dagger. Some report having seen a sabre that he keeps in his sea chest, but he has never worn it in public. He likes to fight, but he doesn't try to shove people around. He is quick to respond to insults, or to step in if he sees someone else being wronged, and in those situations he enjoys bashing a few heads. He has a love for battle, but it is tempered by a sense of justice. Mac has a reputation as a "loose cannon". It is most obvious in his off-duty drinking and the brawls that sometimes occur as a result. When he's been drinking he doesn't lose his sense of justice, but he does lose his discretion, sense of proportion, and occasionally his respect for private property as he bashes someone over the head with a bar stool or sends them crashing through a wall.

The two-man patrol he commands is stationed near the docks and typically handles bar fights, boisterous drunks, and muggers. Mac deals sympathetically with the merely drunk, brawlers find him a bit too eager to oblige them, and thieves find him ruthless. Many a pickpocket or drunk-roller he's brought to jail had broken fingers and cracked ribs. Mac is generally well-liked by the regulars who frequent the taverns. This is because he does his utmost to make Arylon safe for drunks. He doesn't come down hard on drunks who are just being exuberent, he watches out for drunks who are trying to make it home by themselves, he takes a very hard line against thieves who try to take advantage of drunks.

His sympathy for drunks is not without reason. Given his taste for drink, occasionally the city guard has been called out to deal with Mac when his off-duty drinking made him a bit rambunctious. His actions have not made him beloved to the some of the more upright members of the Crescents, though, and his superiors have had to discipline him on more than one occasion. Once, he even lost his command for such behavior. No other Silver Crescent commanded as much respect from the rowdies of the riverfront taverns as Mac McGhiligh, though. It wasn't long before he won back his position. Mac is well-respected by most of the other Crescents who patrol the streets, since he is very effective in an area where it is often best to take a 'pro-active' stance. His superiors often have a different perspective, though, since they have to deal with complaints from tavern owners who have a problem with the destruction of property issue.

In all the cases where Mac has been involved in a bar fight that raged out of control, he can show that he was provoked into fighting. The problem seems to be that what the people who provoked him saw before the fight was an ale-sodden, sentimental drunk, playing a squeaking accordion, and belting out off-key, sappy ballads about the sea. In any crowded tavern full of adventurers, river-boatmen, miners, mule-skinners and caravan drivers, there is going to be at least one person who doesn't want to hear that crap, and thinks he's the man to stop it. As soon as he tries, that's when Mac transforms into a raging, bar-smashing brawler. He is certainly not invincible, and he has the scars and bruises to prove it. The primary reason he hasn't been killed in a bar fight, though, is because that is just what they are: bar fights. You may get the occasional belligerent who can't take his butt-kicking, so he pulls out a dagger. Mac's trained to deal with such things and he usually has friends in the crowd that will step in to help him. He's been trying for a while to cut back on his drinking, but he's been heard singing his dirges in the dockside taverns more and more lately. Those who know him reckon that he's due to get involved in a bar fight.

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