Version 1 (red): <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, Sir Roland, a towering figure draped in shimmering armor, emerged from the shadows of the stables. His voice carried the weight of authority and honor as he greeted me with a nod, "Welcome, squire Frederick. The King wishes we could have you ready before winter. Are you prepared for the trials that await?" </nc-section> Version 2 (green): <nc-section data-title="Chapter 3: Lessons Begin" data-color="green"> The castle buzzed with the excitement of many squire novices eager to prove their worth. The Master Swordsmith, a burly man with worn leather apron, approached with a smile as broad as the valleys beyond. "Squire Frederick, we've got a blunt blade to sharpen and a sword to forge this evening," he announced, beckoning me towards the blacksmith's corner. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 4: Culinary Arts" data-color="green"> As the sun dipped below the horizon, I found myself seated at the castle's communal table with other squires and royals. The royal cook, a rotund woman with flour-dusted apron, presented me with a plate of steaming bread and fresh cheese. "Take your time, my young friend. You are now part of our lineage. Diners of the realm, note the importance of our culinary hospitality." </nc-section> Version 3 (blue): <nc-section data-title="Chapter 5: Knighting Ceremony" data-color="blue"> A dazzling gathering was underway, with laughter and music filling the great hall's spaciousness. Murmurs of anticipation surrounded the King's favorite oak tree where, beneath its wise and ancient boughs, the day of my knighthood was set to commence. I gazed upon the assembly of Lords and Ladies, feeling both pride and nervous anticipation swell within me. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 6: The Final Test" data-color="blue"> The following morning, dawn's first light painted the tavern's aged façade in hues of orange and gold. There I stood before the kingdom's Council Hall, the heavy gavel in the steward's grip rapping against the polished oak. Each trial I had overcome now bound up with every gasp of villagers eager for my ascension. As I took my place to receive the King's grand declaration, I felt the weight of my squire's future upon my shoulders. </nc-section>