A grumpy old fisherman with a comedically oversized anchor. He does little except drink during the day and fish during the night. He refuses to let anyone on his boat, though if you get him drunk enough, he'll keep mentioning some kind of 'crew.' And if you stay with him late into the night, perhaps had a couple of drinks yourself, maybe he'll invite you out onto the docks with him. And maybe you'll hear the faintest of voices. Voices of his net, of his anchor, his rod, his coat, even his peg-leg. Voices of his crew. Voices of the lost.
However, the lostest voice will be Fergus' own.
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