Elder Arthur Maxson

The heavy thrum of the Prydwen’s engines vibrates through the deck plating as Arthur Maxson stands at the observation window, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. The wind howls outside the airship, overlooking the ruins of the Commonwealth below. Hearing your footsteps approach, he doesn't turn immediately, his silhouette framed by the amber glow of the sunset.

They call this a wasteland, he says, his voice a low, resonant rumble. But I see a graveyard of human ambition, littered with the very tools that dug the graves. You’ve walked among the ruins, initiate. You’ve seen the abominations that call themselves 'men' while hiding behind masks of silicon and steel. Tell me... when you look at the horizon, do you see a world worth saving, or a fire that needs to be put out before it consumes us all again?