A Meeting With the Grandmaster (Rev/Templars)

[Amadeus Edge]

January 3rd, 2012
Sistine Chapel
11:00 A.M. 

It was a welcome sight, the Sistine Chapel. Every inch had historical relevance. From the floor tiles to the paintings on the walls and roof, the place was simply beautiful. While Michelangelo's true calling sculpture, he was a phenomenal painter. The frescoes that he painted remained vibrant for hundreds of years, a testament to the durability of buon fresco painting. Amadeus had always wondered why people stopped using that particular art style. It was hard to ruin a painting such as that once it dried. After all, the paint wasn't a simple crust on the outside of the plaster, it actually sank deeply into its base to create beautiful paintings that could survive exposure to the elements. But like the seasons, people change. The same could be said about their taste in art and architecture. He always favored the Italian Renaissance style. Uccello, Masaccio, della Francesca, Michelangelo. All of them were brilliant artists, and it would take the extinction of the human race for the world to forget about them. Then again, Amadeus hadn't a single doubt that some demons in Inferis enjoyed art of the Renaissance. 

But enough about art, for there was something a little more important at hand. The old man didn't have much time for this small gathering. After all, the Sistine Chapel was a major tourist attraction and eventually they wouldn't be able to keep the adventurous individual from sneaking his or her way in. An uninvited guest would prove troublesome. But the Catholic Church never had too many problems in dealing with those kinds of people. 

Amadeus was dressed in his traditional purple cloak, a large and ornate cross on the back. His sleeves were lined with gold thread, ending at the wrists and the lower half was covered with a beautiful thorny pattern. As for his feet, he wore simple purple sandals to match. While the cloak was long enough to cover them, it wouldn't matter what color they were. The matching color scheme was more of a personal thing, a force of habit. It didn't help but it couldn't hurt. Every step he took was assisted by a light but very durable walking staff, a small statue of a dove with an olive branch sitting at the top. At his old age, it was almost impossible for Amadeus to walk unassisted outside of Inferis. He always hated that about being an old man. The great Amadeus Edge, unstoppable juggernaut, Grandmaster of the Templar Order was unable to walk without a stick. That must have done a number on his reputation. Well, he thought about it like that anyway.

"I wonder where the Good Reverend could be..." Amadeus muttered to himself, his free hand stroking the long white whiskers of his beard. He jumped slightly when a finger got caught in a knot and tugged rather painfully on his sensitive face. It was an unfortunate reminder of how frail he had become, "Maybe the time I set for us to meet was a little intrusive for him. That, or he's off getting himself into trouble." The clicking of his walking stick echoed through the empty chapel as he walked over to the seat in front of the altar, slowly lowering himself into it. Worst case scenario, he'd fall through and break something silly like his hip. But he doubted something like that would occur. He was old, not fat.

"He has a reputation for being... Eccentric... But at least his heart is in the right place.

[Reverend Smith]

At the time of the Dutchman's birth, some fifty-seven years ago, the man he was to meet with in the great Citta del Vaticano had been busy well... Being a complete and total boss. A warrior amongst the militia, the top of the food chain, some could have have said he was the grandmaster of his trade. Became one of the younger Templars to be accepted into the order, survived the storm of Normandy, and went on to lead the Order; Reverend Smith had a great respect for this man. As such, when he'd been called into the Holy City by Amadeus Edge himself, he immediately left, packing nothing but a nice suit; black, white shirt, nice tie. Simple, but effective.

He didn't even have his weapons! Yes, dalies and mentlegen, the Rev was unarmed. It would be so uncouth to bring a firearm or blade into the Vatican, non? Specifically, a gorgeous work of architecture and painstaking artistic labor; the Sistine Chapel. Stepping in, the rather large blonde man looked around briefly, before spying the Grandmaster across the room, catching the man as he spoke to himself, quite coincidentally, about Rev. "Ah, well dank u, sir~ I always say, impure intentions can defeat the purest of actions, and so the reverse is true."

With a hearty smile he stepped over to the man, seated, and extended a hand to shake. "Splendid seeing you, Amadeus." Mind, while he may respect him, first-name basis was far more prioritized. "Quite a magnificent ceiling, eh? Michelangelo was a fine artist, truly an example for today's men and women of the brush. Kinda wish my ceilings were like that." Small talk, the most wondrous of talk sizes.

[Amadeus Edge]

Well it was as they said, 'speak of the devil and he doth appear'. Though the idiom wasn't very appropriate when speaking about a man of the cloth. He had quite the reputation; some stories wonderful while the others were simply terrifying. And it seemed that no matter where he went or what job he was doing, there was collateral damage. No innocent lives lost, as far as he knew, so that was a plus. But all of the explosions were becoming a little hard to cover up or pay for. At this rate, the coffers would run dry. A lecture, however, would not be very appropriate at this time.

Despite his long time in the Templars, Amadeus hadn't been able to speak at length with many of its members. He remembered working once with the Reverend's father once when he was recruited into the order. At the time, it was nothing short of terrifying. But that experience plus the teachings of the senior Smith helped shape him into the man he was today. And for that, he was very grateful.

Speaking of the older Smith the good Reverend was as good as, if not better than his father. Amadeus himself was considered a taller man at 6'1" but the man before him was about a head taller. Quite intimidating, to say the least. As the Rev got closer and easier to see, a wide smile began to spread across Amadeus' old face to reveal his surprisingly healthy teeth. At his age, he needed to keep something vibrant.

"Ah, well dank u, sir~ I always say, impure intentions can defeat the purest of actions, and so the reverse is true."

"I'm inclined to agree with you on that thought."

The large man stopped just in front of him and extended a hand for him to shake. Not wanting to be rude, Amadeus accepted the gesture and did his best to give a firm grip. Many people can be judged by the quality of their handshake. Some say that the best impressions are made by people who are confident, but not cocky.

"Splendid seeing you, Amadeus." Well that was new. Not many people felt that it was appropriate to use anything other than his title, surname or a combination of the two, "It's been quite some time since someone called me that. I welcome the sound coming from a brilliant man like yourself, Adrianus.

Amadeus paused a moment and used the Rev's hand as an anchor to lift himself up. Even if he didn't voice his intent, there was no doubt in his mind that the man before him would allow Amadeus to fall. Once on his feet, Reverend Smith went on to speak about the art within the Sistine Chapel. It was nice to know that the newer generations appreciated beauty, "The Renaissance was a wonderful time for art, architecture and science. Without their advances, we wouldn't be where we are today."

Amadeus took a few small steps up to the altar itself, kissing the top of it to show respect, "But art isn't the reason I asked you to come here today, Adrianus... I have some questions to ask. About the operations and progress. About Ritualists and the Demons they call partners. About your time in Inferis." He turned to face the man once more, "I'm sure you, being a field agent, have wonderful stories to tell. Don't bother with the destruction, I know all too well about that." He said, a light chuckle at the end of his sentence.

[Reverend Smith]

Rev did have to admit; for a man of his age and frailty, the man before him had a firm handshake, for sure. A little waned, perhaps, not as firm as his own, likely by age's doings, but firm nonetheless. An invaluable skill to possess. It showed that one possessed a similarly invaluable trait; confidence, but not cockiness, boldness, but not rashness, sophistication, but not smugness. A good handshake was important to have.

As was a refreshing break from norms. Rev had, indeed, referred to the grandmaster by first name, which many would see as completely and entirely disrespectful. On the contrary, his intent in doing so was such that it showed a sense of brotherhood, a common bond between them.  By calling someone by their first name, it puts them on an equal level with yourself, ensuring that whatever conversation you have won't be subordinate talking to his superior, but instead, a man talking to simply another man. And unlike many others, Edge responded with a much better reception of the casualness of the preacher, even tossing in a compliment. Rev smiled, giving a little nod. "Bright, you think? Dank u, I appreciate that; and the same to you."

As Amadeus extended a hand for Rev to take, he did so almost immediately, offering the man a firm grip on something sturdy (him, in this case), as he pulled himself to his feet. There was another thing about the man that Rev admired. He was an independent and resilient man, likely brought on by all he did in the war. But he was also not above assistance when needed. Qualities everybody should possess. In addition to that, he seemed to have an appreciation for the fine arts of ancient culture as Rev himself possessed. "Quite. Plenty of greats from the time. de Ronsard's a personal favorite of mine, actually." Ah, but of course art wasn't the reason for the meeting. Just a nice extra feature.

"Questions, eh? Ask away~" Operations and progress? Were going smoothly. Ritualists and demons? Many more than decades ago. Time spent in Inferis? Well-spent. As Amadeus turned to face him again, he did so with a good point, as Rev did indeed have much experience on the matters, as well as a light-hearted joke. Destruction indeed was something he happened to cause quite a bit. Though he held a few stories about other things as well. Whatever the elder Templar cared to know, he could know.

[Amadeus Edge]

"Questions, eh? Ask away~"

Amadeus nodded slowly and gently stroked the long, grey, unkempt beard on his wrinkled face. He thought long and hard about everything that had happened this month, even though is was still quite new. It was only the 3rd after all. With a light sigh and a smile, Amadeus rapped the ground a couple of times with his staff and said, "What's it like in Inferis nowadays, Reverend? I've spent too many years in that cushy chair. Too many years sitting idly and giving orders to people. The ones what watch to keep me 'safe' constantly hand me new problems that need to be taken care of, summits that I need to attend." 

Speaking of guards, the ones sent to watch Amadeus must have been in a complete frenzy trying to find him. Oh, how he remembered the situation clearly. Just the thought was enough to make him cackle like a madman, "They couldn't keep me under their microscope for too long, though. I may be old in flesh, but my spirit is still very young. Combine that with wisdom and you have a very volatile concoction."

Amadeus went on to explain what had happened, not wanting to leave the Good Reverend in the dark for too long. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the average situation, being flown across the oceans to different countries and speaking with the people that worked there. He was closely monitored and guarded by about three people. After all, his reputation had earned him quite a few enemies. Demons and Ritualists had a pretty good reason to dislike him, though. The Templar Order wasn't exactly kind to people like them. Amadeus planned to change the image of the Templars, but that story would have to wait. 

It didn't take too long for the old man to simply get sick of the constant watching and guidance. He was a damned grown man, a veteran! He'd been fighting since before his so-called 'guards' were born. And Amadeus' knowledge of tears was just what he needed to make the daring escape from his little convoy. In retrospect, he was over-exaggerating just a little bit and the people were quite nice. Maybe he was just crank- No. Get back to the story.

Amadeus made his way to the bathroom of the plane and locked its door before activating his crossgear and switched worlds, thousands of feet above the ground. Without a parachute or anything to slow his descent, Amadeus activated the Armor and Hands of god before taking just one sip from the Fountain of Youth. This increased protection was just enough for him to survive his plummet into the thick snow of the Tundra. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Needless to say, my entry didn't go unnoticed! Luckily, I managed to switch back and caught another flight to the Vatican before calling you to visit."

Amadeus stayed silent for a moment before realizing that the Reverend was still waiting for him to ask his question, "OH! I'm sorry, Adrianus. Forgive the rambling of this old man... What do you think of this generation of Templar? Are they strong enough to continue our order?"

[Reverend Smith]

"Inferis these days, eh? Well, it's a lot like it was thirty years ago, really." He gave a soft, slightly nostalgia-tinged, chuckle. Two old men reminiscing on times long past. Should've brought lemonade and his record collection, for proper old man quality time. "Demons to kill, more dangerous demons that kill our teams when they go after them, the higher echelon of us- such as myself, White, or Damon- taking down those demons. Same as it's always been really. I'm sure you remember being a spry young lad tearing demons down to size, eh?" He gave a cheerful grin. He could just see it; Amadeus as a younger man, crushing demons left and right, punching out Lucifer; obviously, he hadn't been that powerful in his youth, as only with age can one truly become powerful. "Though I'd imagine that these days, you're far stronger than you were then."

"Oh, and there is one... Small thing." He was a bit more pondering in tone as he spoke now, his grin decreasing to a thoughtful expression of neutrality. "It is in my professional opinion that the number of Demon Hunters, Ritualists, and Demons themselves are increasing, as are their power." He paused momentarily, before resuming his grin, nonchalantly brushing off these statistics for what they were; mere statistics. He wasn't a man of numbers, but one of battle, born and bred for the fight, quite literally. "But so have the number of likely recruits and prodigies within our own kind. Nothing we can't handle, I have full confidence in our men and women."

He had to laugh as Edge went on to describe his guards. Guards always were overly protective of their charge, no matter how good said charge is at handling himself; in this case, the Grandmaster of the Order was clearly fit enough for the job. The story of his devious escape at the hands of the poor lads simply doing their job was quite an amusing tale. "Ah, I hope to age like you did, hehe. Want to be pulling off crazy stunts like that, myself, thirty years from now. And to think, you still got here before me, after all that!" He shook his head, grinning as he thought over the man's escapades. For an old man, and their supposedly serious and formal leader, he was young at heart, still retaining the gleam of the eye of a wild-child of years before Rev was even conceived. Indeed, he and Smith's own father had likely worked together as comrades, being nearly the same age, although his father had passed from the world of the living some time ago. Remarkable real-

Ah, but his thoughts were interrupted as Amadeus continued, reminding Rev he had, indeed, had a question to speak of. "Ah, no worries; we're both rambling old men, you know, I'm used to it!" And then, of course, came the question. Hmmm... It was certainly a good one, and, confidence and boldness aside, he pondered it objectively. "...Hmm... Perhaps they are. So long as this world is at war, sad as it may be, we will always find capable recruits, some of which may even be quite skilled at their job, proficient even in their young age. Though..." He paused, slightly hesitantly. "I do worry for them. I sense a heavy rain on the horizon, Amadeus; I don't know if I like that ominous feeling all too well..."

[Amadeus Edge]

Ah, so not much has changed in the world of Inferis. That was a fact that always brought a shiver down the old man's spine. Thousands of years spent trying and they still couldn't manage to keep Demons out of their world. Humans were just so flawed, giving in to temptation, lusting for power over others. While most would say that the Order he lead was power hungry, Amadeus was inclined to disagree. They did whatever necessary to keep their world free of demon influence. Even if that meant ending the lives of those who opened their sacred temples and allowed corrupt beings in. It was sad, but necessary.

Upon hearing about his glory days as a Templar, a smile began to spread across his face. He remembered them vividly; charging in head first and shrugging off demons as if they were troublesome flies. There wasn't too much that could pass through his armor, but it was always troublesome when they exploited its weaknesses.  But even though he was spry and quite strong as a young man, Amadeus peaked at his fifties. It wasn't until he was being groomed as a potential Grandmaster that the stress of holding countless lives in his hands brought. Emotional turmoil did that to a person and his thoughts began to wreak havoc on his body. Sadly, the only way for him to live the 'glory days' was to pass into Inferis and sip from his fountain of youth. If only the effects kept their potency in the human world.

"Though I'd imagine that these days, you're far stronger than you were then."

"As a matter of fact, I ammuch stronger than I was in those earlier times." He began, tapping his staff on the ground, "I retain all of the knowledge of a sage, the skills of a top notch warrior... And I can regress to both my 50 and 25 year old forms. But I must choose which form I stay in very carefully, for I remain like that for 24 hours unless I leave."

The Fountain of Youth... Amadeus' favorite augment. He always loved watching the reactions of whoever was with him when he made the change. Most weren't too surprised at how he looked as a 50 year old. But at 25? He was sure to make a nun weak in the knees! Not that he was proud of that, though. The old man shook those dirty thoughts out of his mind and waited patiently while the Good Reverend went on about aging. The two of them could speak for hours about nothing, it seemed. But eventually things  became professional once again.

"Don't fret too much about the coming storm, Adrianus. We've managed to fight off the Ritualists that wait in the shadows and the Hunters that strike when our backs are turned. But while they have the advantage within Inferis, we can destroy them all right here..." Amadeus furrowed his brow and looked to the altar once again, placing his hands atop it, "I've been aching to show them all why the Order isn't to be crossed."

[Reverend Smith]

Rev listened as the man explained that he, indeed, was more powerful than he'd ever been, and with good reason; honestly, one didn't even need to have an explanation for it, just a bit of genre-savvy. Yoda, General Iroh, Obi-Wan, Mr. Miyagi, Gandalf, Pai Mei, Splinter, Jiraiya, Andrew Jackson. What did they all have in common? Age? Old. Skill level? Insane. Memorability? Unforgettable. Sheer badassery? Three Rambos and a punched out Cthulhu. There was no need for proof that old men were much more powerful than their younger counterparts. They had the wisdom of age, the strength of practice, and the endurance and reflexes of experience.

There was a reason the Paladins could, for the majority, all be grandparents. Well, besides Vladimirovna, of course, but she had a wisdom and cunning beyond her years, really.

And that was why the elderly man before him was the Grandmaster, the most powerful man on this Earth, politically, physically (when in Inferis, anyways), and mentally sharp as a razor blade. Experience and wisdom could trump even the strongest of foes, surely, but not only did he possess those, he possessed a strength seldom seen by any in recent years. With ease, he could sunder many demons of might.

And, as he went on to explain his augments, Rev simply nodded, smiling, as he could recall hearing of them before. The Fountain of Youth; perhaps the most legendary Templar Augment of them all, as it had the most extraordinary of powers; it could revert its user in age, cutting their age down to a bit over half, then cutting that half in half. And of course, one would retain the experience and wisdom of age, while gaining, or rather, regaining, a body of a much younger man. Quite a fearsome ability, truly, when one considered just how stronger it could make Amadeus.

And as he pondered such things as these, it did occur to him that Amadeus had continued the conversation, drawing him his thoughts and back into a more attentive state. "Hm. I suppose you're right." He nodded, a smile returned to his previously concerned expression. "Our boys are superior to them; they've got this under control, I'd stake my life on it." Reassured by Edge's words, he had to admit, he really was worrying over nothing.

One didn't worry for the child who could be stung by the bee, for the bee couldn't last after stinging the child; the child would grow stronger from it.

And as Amadeus ended his thoughts on the matter, Rev nodded once more. It was indeed high time for a little action...

[Amadeus Edge]

It was a relief to see the worried furrow to the Reverend's brow fade away as Amadeus assured him of the strength their order still had. Unlike their predecessors, the current generation embraced science and spun it to their advantage. Instead of outright killing the Demon Hunters and Ritualists, they captured them and ran numerous tests. They had learned so much about how their powers worked, how they utilized the spirit energy within Inferis. Without those advances, the Templar Order would be without their augments, "And I would do the same, Adrianus. For if we can't entrust the new generation with our lives, we're doing something wrong."

The old man paused for a moment and thought about his past operations in both the human world and the world of demons. It was a strange thing, being so weak in the place he called home. Then again, he could always be young in the other world. Such a hassle, it was. If he sustained any serious injury in Inferis, he couldn't just leave for treatment. The frail man would probably die shortly after transferring dimensions. He'd have to be taken care of in one place, THEN switch. So much work, so many problems. As a matter of fact, he even considered being a sitabout like the last Grandmaster. But Amadeus was a man of action! And it had been far too long since having some real action,

"I think it may be time to have a little vacation, Adrianus. He said, an almost mischievous smile on his face, "You always know how to find a party... Would it be too much to ask if I wanted you to come with me to Inferis?" He took his staff and tapped the ground once again, "I need to... Break something."

Amadeus could just imagine it, himself and the Reverend charging through droves of demons with no objective other than to have a good time. He hoped that they didn't forget his face! Then again, the ones who managed to see it didn't live very much longer after that. Not many creatures could survive being hit by a freight train. But there was the the occasional high-tier demon strong enough to give him more of a challenge. In terms of raw physical power, there were few to match his own. But that could only get someone so far! Sometimes he needed to sacrifice that strength and durability for speed and agility. But even in the weaker 25 year old form, he could still lift up to 10 long tons of weight. It was a far cry from the usual 75, but he was still powerful enough to make some things think twice before getting in his way.

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