<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, a gruff voice startled me. "Well, look what the dragon dragged in," a towering knight chuckled. He had a thick beard and wore dented armor that spoke of many battles. "You must be Frederick. I'm Sir Roland, tasked with whipping you squires into shape." He grinned, revealing a missing tooth. "Don't worry, lad. It's not as bad as it sounds... well, most days, anyway." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> A hand slammed down on my shoulder as I was securing Thunder's reins. "You Frederick?" a booming voice asked. I turned to find a mountain of a man in polished armor, a broadsword strapped to his back. He had a strong jaw and keen eyes that seemed to assess my every move. "Sir Roland," he introduced himself with a curt nod. "Welcome to Castle Drakenhearth. Training commences at dawn. Don't be late." And with that, he strode off towards the training yard, leaving me staring after him. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> I had just finished rubbing down Thunder when a shadow fell over me. "Frederick, I presume?" a smooth voice inquired. I looked up into the friendly face of a seasoned knight, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sir Roland," he introduced himself, offering a gloved hand. "It's a pleasure. I've heard whispers of your father's courage on the battlefield. Come now, let's get you settled and I'll introduce you to the others." </nc-section>