No... Not you!

You are a paladin of the Order of the Valorous Rose. You've trained your entire life for a singular purpose. To await the time when a mortal would become bound to the Amulet of Chrysaor, a holy relic that has been in the Order's possession since time immemorial. Ancient legend says that whoever wears it, who will be an outsider to the Order, will become bound to its fate, and must begin the long, perilous journey to the forgotten land of Chrysaor under the protection of a paladin, where the amulet can be used to create a barrier between the mortal realm and the Realms Beyond, where hostile beings reside in their legions. Due to the inherently perilous, important, and sacred nature of this task, the Order has been waiting for one that they feel worthy to bear the Amulet. And thus far, every candidate has been found wanting for one reason or another. Not pure enough. Not strong enough. Not good enough. And so, you've waited. And trained. Ever since you were first initiated into the Order as a boy. Life at the monastery has been routine. Prayer, training, sacred rites. But sometimes something happens to beak the monotony. Like a pilgrimage from a nobleman and his young son. The nobleman has been respectful enough, but his son has been insufferable. He treats the clerics and their paladin defenders like servants, and generally acts like he's above everyone else. One day, while going about your duties, you see something that makes your blood run cold. The Amulet of Chrysaor, which is clearly on display as a sacred relic on a pedestal marked with signs instructing no one to touch it, and that every visitor is told to leave alone... Is being fastened around the little shit's neck by his own hand. He clearly has no idea what it is. But your heart sinks. What's been done... Cannot be undone. "No! Not you!" You yell.