If you are reading this particular chapter, this is because no one has left a request by the 21st of December. In this case, I will use Garth Wilkins because you already know the story.
He was getting too old for this. 'Yeah, my last few moments will be spent training squire to actually hit something,' he thought. He was an esteemed Paladin, being around to be a squire about to graduate when the Chosen One as they called them had joined their ranks. He'd even been able to see that Courier fellow everyone was talking about. He had been comfortably retired when they called for someone new to train the squires. 'The things I do for this brotherhood…'
"Squire Anderson!" He shouts loudly. "Why are you handling that plasma rifle?" He had a clear, and high perch, being over six feet tall and the tallest squire barely reaching his elbow. The squire in question had a reputation for being very ambitious, and very crafty. The Brotherhood's scribes have spoken to him in private, that if his obsession of technology does not stop they could have a very capable megalomaniac on their hands.
"I…I, I wanted to feel its weight and see if I could handle it if squires need to defend." He stutters. "If squires are to handle firearms they would handle FIRE, arms and not PLASMA, arms. A standard rifle with armor piercing rounds can take out a deathclaw if need be, and I do not want to see you with anything above the training rifles. Understood?!"
He honestly didn't want to do this anymore. He had done enough for this brotherhood. He had trained over thirty squires, and he yearned for danger. Life in the brotherhood was militaristic, of course, but he needed something to break the monotony. He'd take any chance whatsoever to have something, anything, to do. "Paladin Wilkins! Paladin Wilkins, you are to report to Command immediately!" Yelled a new knight.
'Finally,' he thought, 'something to do.' As he walked the twisting halls with ease, he let his thoughts wander. 'What is so important that it interrupts a squire training session? The only time it was disturbed before was when the base was attacked, and even then there were sirens blaring into the night.' He cast away these thoughts as he entered command.
"Elder McNamara." He said as he saluted. "If I may ask, why have you interrupted the squire training session? The last time it was interrupted was when the base was attacked, yet I hear no sirens." The elder pondered this question with a look of contemplation. Eventually they responded with, "There is a new sector that we need mapped.
"It is around old Washington State, Oregon and Canada. Wastelanders claim that there are green trees. If this is true, we need samples to determine radioactivity and if they are false, still take samples. If this is true, then we have just had a massive boon land in our laps. We will not hesitate to explore it, but we need someone experienced and whose current position may be filled by other members. Paladin Wilkins, I am happy to promote you to Senior Paladin, and primary Cartographer. You will be given an entourage of a sentry bot, a Brotherhood Mr. Gutsy, and an Eyebot." The Elder said with pride.
"I am honored to receive this position. I will execute any orders with pride. What is my primary objective?" He says, pride overtaking any uncertainty in the presence of the elder. His life and the life of his brothers and sisters could be on the line, and he only had one chance to make it work.
"Your power armor has a built in PIP-Boy, does it not? It will do the mapping for you, but you have to defend the bots along with yourself. If rumors are to be believed, there are no ferals there, but the sentry bot and Mr. Gutsy are to impose superiority and the Eyebot has a built in broadcasting camera that is tuned into our monitor frequency. It also has a camera feature that will allow you to take high quality pictures for analyzation. We cannot risk using a Vertibird for fear of having some smart aleck raider shoot it down with a missile. You will have to take the usual way; by foot and boat."