Templar Downtime Contest.

[Consumer]

Contest: Short story about a day in Merctown.
I would like you all to write about your characters spending time doing something in the city of Merctown or its immediate environs, it must be about your character, though you could add other PCs if you acquire their permission first. Minimum of four Paragraphs to be considered a valid entree.
This will be voted on by GM and AGM.

Contest will run for 1 month (1/15 to 2/15).

---

1st place: 5 MGP.
2nd place: 3 MGP.
3rd Place: 2 MGP.
1 MGP just for participating.
This will come from my personal MGP, that is how much I want to see you succeed.

[Rufus]

Let the Good Times Roll

Temple Street, Mystic Quarter
Merctown

Rufus left the Shrine of the Warrior in quite a funk. He had hoped to sit down with Aletuilatl and talk about the Templar’s mission to the other side of the planet, specifically about the incidents with the raptors on the ley line and their capture by cannibal Psi-Stalkers, and hopefully get some guidance to help him get in the right frame of mind while he was meditating back at the Collegiate Arcane. But unfortunately, Al was nowhere to be found. Out on errands, one of the attendants had told him, with no idea when he would return. So Rufus started back down Temple Street trying to figure out how to shake himself out of his feelings of failure and unworthiness.

As he neared the Olympian temple, his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of someone singing along some metallic clicking noises. At the same time his nose picked up the scent of roasted meat – lamb, in fact – on the breeze. His curiosity piqued, he picked up his pace and rounded the corner to find an outdoor mobile grill that looked like a modified hot dog cart. On the side of the cart was painted, “BIG D’S CATERING – BEST GYROS THIS SIDE OF OLYMPUS”

Working the grill (and making the noise) was a rather huge minotaur dressed in an apron over ancient Greek styled priestly robes, singing a song to no one in particular while clicking his tongs in rhythm. He gave Rufus a big grin as he walked up.

“Oi dere chum, why so glum?” The priest chuckled. “Sounds like ya need some o’ me universal therapy – da best street cuisine dis side o’ Olympus.”

Rufus squinted at the minotaur. “You look familiar… do I know you? Have we met before?”

“Nah, I just got one o’ dem faces is all. Ya know how it is…” he said with a grin as he pulled out a paper take-out container and started filling a couple of pitas with lamb, lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, and sauce. “But enough ‘bout me, what’s up wit’ you? Ya look as deflated as me last failed soufflé.”

Rufus sighed. “Okay, whatever. My crew was out in the field and I made a couple of… mistakes… that put us in danger. One was so bad, well, I don’t know how we would have made it out okay without some unexpected reinforcements.” He nodded back towards the Shrine of the Warrior. “I was hoping to talk about it with the caretaker over there, but he’s out.”

The priest nodded. “Ya mean ol’ Al? Oi yeah, he’s a good egg… even if he seems a little cracked at times.” He chuckled. “Sorry, food joke. Anyhoo, I reckon he’d agree wit’ me when I say dat ya don’t need ta beat yerself up too much over past mistakes. Life’s too short fer dat kinda stuff. Take yer lumps, learn yer lesson, an’ do better goin’ forward. It’s dat simple.”

“How can you just say that like it's no big deal?” Rufus growled. “People I know and care about could have been hurt – or even killed – because I wasn’t smart enough. Wasn’t quick enough...” He sighed as his shoulders sagged. “Because I wasn’t good enough.”

“Alright, chum, stop wit’ dat felgercarb right dere…” the priest responded with a stern look as he pointed his tongs right at Rufus’ nose. “Ya ain’t da only one who’s made mistakes, but dey’re da only things dat ya can truly call yer own. Learnin’ from ‘em is how ya gain knowledge, wisdom, an’ experience. An’ dere ain’t no shortcuts neither.” He pauses as he thinks a moment. “Well, unless ya count Odin skewerin’ himself to dat big tree like a bronto kebab. Dat’s kind o’ a shortcut I guess. But dat was a big risk too, ‘cos if dat tree didn’t think he was worthy he would’a wound up dead.” He shook his head.

“An’ for all dis ‘not good enough’ nonsense…” he continued. “It don’t matter if anyone else thinks yer good enough or not, so long as you think ya are. Don’t matter how many times ya get knocked down, only how many times ya stand back up. Ya get me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get you. V boju ni pomembna velikost psa, pomembna je količina borbe v psu...” Rufus nodded. “It's not the size of the dog in the fight that matters, it's the amount of fight in the dog. You’re beginning to sound like my Uncle Cato.”

“Heh, sounds like a wise ol’ mutt ta me…” the priest chuckled as he folded up the container and handed it to Rufus. “’Ere ya go -- two gyros wit’ roasted potatoes an’ made-from-scratch Spanakopita. On da house, compliments o’ Big D himself. ‘Cos life’s too short ta not enjoy da good stuff. Oh, an’ before I forget…” he reached into a cooler and pulled out a small bottle. “Red wine infused wit’ lemon balm an’ lime flower. Helps spell-slingin’ types like you wit’ meditation. I make it meself. Got a little chum o’ me own who swears by it.” He handed the bottle to Rufus. “Oi yeah, I can smell da magicka on ya. Ya got some juice to ya fer sure.”

“Najlepša hvala, prijatelj,” Rufus grinned and softly snorted as he took the food and drink. “Thank you very much. I appreciate both the food and the pep talk. Upam, da imaš lep dan – I hope you have a great day,” he said as he gave the priest a bow. “Hope to see you again sometime…” he added as he turned to leave.

He had only made it a few steps when the priest called out after him. “Don’t forget, chum, life’s too short ta not enjoy da good stuff! An’ tell dat Valkyrie yer runnin’ wit’ I said howdy!”

Rufus stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait, how did you—”

But the priest was gone. Rufus looked all around, but there was no sign of the minotaur or his street kitchen setup. Nothing was left but the scent of roasted lamb that still hung in the air. And the food and drink he had given Rufus.

Rufus chuckled as he put the bottle in his pocket and opened up the container. He continued on his way back to the Collegiate Arcane, nibbling on one of the gyros and humming a tune to himself.

Hey, everybody, let's have some fun
You only live but once, and when you're dead you're done
So let the good times roll… let the good times roll…


((OOC: Rufus' story continues here...))

[Calvin_Wallace]

Get good or die trying:

The prepatory notes from Bethesda were as follows:

"Attire: Business casual. Show up at Merctown Hospital tomorrow at 7:30AM. Ask to speak to Kirken."

After waiting for over 30 minutes just outside the triage area of Emergency Care, Calvin was ushered to the a barren office. A large Aarden Tek slowly rose and pointed to the vacant chair across his desk. His face was inscrutible. Calvin couldn't tell if his interiewer was annoyed or concerned.

"Mr. Wallace. You come highly recommended as a field doctor and a paramedic. Unfortunately, I don't run a field hospital. I run the paramedic division for this establishment. What do you think you can do for me?"

"Mr. Kirken, I am a magically and psionically endowed physici..."

"Stop right there. I'm looking to hire a temporary paramedic. I have doctors. I have a bevy of machines that will reliably stitch together bone, sinew and tissue. If you are going to be a paramedic here, then that is your role."

"I am not sure I follow."

"In a battlefield, you are often left to your own devices. Perhaps within your company, you are the only medic around. You have a bevy of options and you can choose to practice your medical arts whichever way you please, but here, here, your role is locate the patient, stabilize them and keep them alive long enough until they arrive here. Then they will be triaged and undergo treatment accordingly!"

"So you want me to play a regimented role. I have no issue with that, so long as it help saves lives."

"No, what I want you to do is play to your strengths. I have looked over your recommendations. Within the wilderness, you are probably your patient's first and last option. Here, there are multiple medical experts around, from multiple worlds, at all times. You don't need to stabilize and then fix a patient right away. You can stop the bleeding. You can take away the patient's pain. You can even treat surface wounds. But why treat a patient, one at a time, in a non sterile environment? It's easier to get them back to this facility, where there is plenty o fmedical help around?"

"I see."

"So, as a paramedic, what do you do?"

"I stabilize the patient as best I can, then make way back here at a safe but brisk pace."

"Excellent. The first vital you should check in any medical emergency is often your own pulse. If you are rattled, distracted or stressed in any way, the patient will bear the consequences."

"Understood."

"Good. When you are called to a medical emergency and you land in the middle of a fire fight, what do you do?"

"Pacify both parties the best I can, then get to treating the wounded?"

The Aarden Tek lets out a long laugh.

"You sure are confident in your abilities?"

"I take it that is the wrong answer?"

"Yes. It was a terrible answer. Try again and do better."

"The Merctown Defenders will be deployed with us. Let them secure the area and then I go stabilize the wounded."

"Good. You jumping into a firefight in a straight up fight will mean that you are outside of the purview of the security forces. More importantly, they wouldn't know who you are and might engage you and your partner by accident."

"Understood, working in the Merctown Hospital as a public facing employee will mean that I have to co-ordinate with the local emergency services?"

"Right. I don't care if you are fireproof, if the building is on fire, let the fire department handle it. They have bursters too. If there is a shootout, do not engage unless you are threatened and you will only act to defend yourself. If there is an attempt to arrest and the suspect has been wounded, what do you do?"

"Get the all clear from the Defenders on the scene first, then once the suspect has been properly contained, treat the wounds of the injured as best as I can, stabilize the ones that I cannot, and make haste with patients back to the hospital."

"Hrmn... The way you say 'make haste'..."

"What do you mean?, uhhh, Mr. Kirken, sir?"

"When you hear someone call code, what do you do?"

"Make haste to the patient?"

"And how do you make haste to the patient Mr. Wallace?"

"I tend to be able to run pretty fast."

"That's what I mean. Never, ever run to an emergency in the field. Walk briskly and be firmly aware of your surroundings."

"I'm not sure about that."

The Aarden Tek suddenly moves his chair back and sets both his feet up on his desk. His trousers slid down just past his ankle, and Calvin noticed that both legs were bionic appendages.

"Ten years ago, my partner and I were called to extract a few wounded from a domestic crisis. The head of the family had decided that modern medicine was the work of Devilkin. He forbade his family to seek medical help for a few respiratory ailments, nothing a week of Cephalexin wouldn't have cleared up. One child eventually got very sick and their mother tried to leave. She ended up getting killed, but not before the children turned on the father and shot him instead. Then as we raced towards the crime scene, the Defenders were still securing the area. They had not given the all clear."

"So the patients' home, it was boobie-trapped?"

"Anti personnel mines, courtesy of Northern Gun. I stepped on one of those and both my legs were amputated above the knee. My partner wasn't so lucky. He lost his life that day."

"So, the lesson is, be aware of your surroundings?"

"Partially..."

"Taking care of one's own safety is of paramount priority, as a safety officer getting hurt on the job becomes just another patient. When performing medical care, we should take great pains to make the right decisions in a calm mind, so as to not create additional work for our colleagues."

"There, there. Now you understand."

"So health care in the 'civilized' world, as you have emphasized to me, is a team sport. We all have a role, and my role is to keep the patient alive until they can get better care. I should take great pains not to hurt the patient, and I should take even greater pains of not becoming a patient myself when I am out in the field."

"That about sums it up... And now the real question, I am sure you can find work as a merc. Why do you want to do this?" asked the Aarden Tek

"I want to be a better Doctor."

"Then go enroll in a suitable Medical College in Laszlo. Why do this?"

"Because I have been trained as a doctor. What I lack is practical experience in treating civilians."

"Sorry?"

"I have treated plasma and laser burns, I have set broken bones. I have a myriad of experience in dealing with wounds and ailments from war. On the other hand, I've never rescitated someone who almost drowned. While I can tell the difference between say wooping cough vs tb, I wouldn't have practiced contagian containment in any meaningful way. I can fix cardiac arrests from shock or fright, but I've never had to deal with a heart attack from poor dietary choices. I've never really had to help deliver a baby before!"

"So you want to heal the sick and help the poor?"

"YES. I want to treat people who need help and I want to be competent on many facets of the healing arts, well beyond the scope of my current training. And I don't think I am quite there..."

The Aarden Tek pauses momentarily. Stealing a measuring gaze, he puts his feet back down.

"Listen, I think you are going to do fine. However, there are some more formalities. Your future team mates are going to have you practice some first aid and perform some basic treatment on some dummies. Then if you pass their assessment, we'll show you a quick tour of the Emergency Room and the Trauma Facilities."

"Thank you Mr. Kirken. I wouldn't let you down."

"Indeed Mr. Wallace, you will not. Once you get through the tour, you will receive your uniform."

"Yessir."

"I understand you are with us for the next month, and then you get shipped off."

"That is the plan."

"Well, you can train with us. Go impress your new team mates, and I'll see if I can start on-boarding you after lunch."

"Thank you sir. Thank you so very much.

A grateful Calvin rises from his chair and shakes Mr. Kirken's outreached hand.

[Jason Long]

A fateful encounter?

Jason walks through the Mystic Quarter, his head full of the day’s lessons from Jeff. These evenings walks are Jason’s only chance to process what he has learned. Jeff’s hard driven teaching style leaves no time for introspection during class.

Thinking about how far he had come, Jason recalled the first days of training. His elation at learning Athena’s history. Here was what he had been looking for, possibly his entire life. Someone he could devote himself to and follow wholeheartedly. He could be certain that Athena would always be on the ‘right’ side of any battle, even when the battle was against her father, the king of the Olympian gods. How would things have been different back in the Army of the Southern Cross if his leaders had that kind of honor and integrity.

”Watch where you’re going!” snatches Jason out of his reverie as he collides another pedestrian, knocking them both to the ground. Ashamed at his lack of awareness, Jason hurriedly stands and helps the other to her feet, realizing that it was a tattooed woman in her 60’s. ”Clumsy oafs walking around with their heads in the clouds. Don’t you mage types ever pay attention to the real world around you?” muttered the old woman as she bent to gather her dropped package.

Further embarrassed, Jason steps in to pick up the brown paper wrapped package for the woman. ”Ma’am, that was entirely my fault, let me help you. I have no excuse.” Jason stammers in apology.

”Of course it was all your fault. At least you have the courtesy and sense to apologize.” the woman snapped back, taking her package and rubbing her bruised hip. ”You also didn’t give me some lame excuse. She continued more calmly, taking in Jason’s uniform. ”Now that I look at you, you don’t look like the typical spell caster. You look like a soldier, but not one of those CS fools. What brings you here?”
”I am a soldier, ma’am. Jason Long, formerly of the Alpha Tactical Armored Corps of the Army of the Southern Cross. Currently, leader of the Templar. I’ve been taking lessons at the Temple of the Olympians to become a follower of Athena.” Jason reflexively snapped to attention initially, then he relaxed with a smile. ”force of habit.”

The woman looked into Jason’s eyes thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. ”The Templar? I used to hear good things about them when they were at the Shrine of the Warrior. I heard they went independent and haven’t heard much good or bad since.” She shook her head is if that was neither here nor there. ” As for Athena. I’d figure a soldier would be more interested in Ares, god of war. He’s a holy terror and bringer of great destruction on the battlefield.”

Jason shook his head, ”You may be right that Ares is more fitting for the modern battlefield, but I felt nothing at his shrine, no sense I belonged there. From what I’ve learned since then, Ares is a bully. Athena, on the other hand, has a nobility to her. I felt a pull to her from the start. She is a god of battle and of wisdom. She is a righteous warrior who cares about the good fight. If you know of the Templar, you know that we started as being dedicated to combating evil. I wish to lead us back to that and Athena is the prefect deity to lead me on that path. I would follow her into Hades itself.” The strength of the emotion welling up in his chest caught Jason by surprise.

The old woman smiled and patted Jason’s forearm. ”It looks like you’ve made the right choice. Keep that conviction and it will serve you well. Now I must be going, I have dinner to cook.”

Jason suddenly recalled that Athena occasionally appeared as an old woman, before she can walk off, Jason asks warily, “Are you Athena?[\b]”

The old woman cackled with laughter, “Hell no! I’m just the housekeeper at one of the small shrines. You think too much of yourself. Besides, if I was, you’d be in real trouble for knocking me down. Off with you.” She shooed Jason out of her path. Embarrassed by his hubris, Jason started walking back to where Bonaparte was parked. “Good fortune on your path, youngster. I expect to hear good things about the Templar after this.” The old woman called in parting.

You will, I promise Jason thought as he mounted up to go home.

[Consumer]

So Mad Dawg and Myself have conferred, and the winner of the Downtime Contest is...

Eric, 2nd place goes to Bertrand, and 3rd to Tony.

Congratulations an your efforts, I have submitted the MGP awards and they likely will be added soon.