The dour-faced McCoi presents himself as a bit of a sour-puss, but no matter how much he might squint into the sun the balding brigand revels in the warmth on his face and the wind in what remains of his graying hair.  Duces McCoi is a man of silver linings with a heart of gold and an iron lung... literally.

McCoi almost smoked himself into an early grave, and though the price of repairing his ailing body was Frontline Service, the wisened pistolero doesn't regret his decision in the slightest.  He eagerly goes wild on the battlefield, muttering under his labored breath encouraging words to his fellows.