Originally hailing from the Kingdom of Dalriada in Scotland, McGowan had little in common with the destructive redcaps that plagued his homeland's moors and highlands. A few redcaps aided him as he Chrysalised to his fae nature, but he never quite fell in with them. Instead, he liked wandering. Sometimes he caused trouble, but more often he met people and got into some damn-good fights whenever possible. Being a redcap, McGowan found travel easy; he always had food on hand, and a rock was just as good to sack on for the night as any bed. In his mortal seeming, Alastair McGowan occasionally took a construction job, being pretty handy with a pick and hammer. Lately, McGowan found Mount Snowdon to be a good base of operations, a central spot from which to explore Cymru and other parts of the Isle of the Mighty.
Alastair awoke to his fae nature in his hometown of Inverness while hiking around Culloden. But today, he strangely refuses to return to Scotland. Ulric and Gwilym suspect he may be in trouble with one of the rulers, or worse, with the Fachan's Brood or other Unseelie.
A little taller than the average redcap, McGowan stands about five and a half feet, with muscles like taut cords. His hair is long and flaming orange-red, tied into braids fastened with barbed wire. Large freckled splotches dot his white skin, and his eyes shine a dim red. As a mortal, McGowan looks much the same...except for smaller teeth, blue eyes and darker skin. He always wears rough-denim work clothes and heavy hobnailed boots.
Alastair loves a good scrap as well as a jolly shag, but somehow the mindless destruction of life and property doesn't have that much appeal. He can be as rowdy and crass as any; much of it is lip service to the stereotype. But he won't ever let anyone else know how he sees the world!