<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> I dismounted Thunder, the saddle leather creaking as I did. A large hand clapped me on the shoulder. “You must be the new whelp.” A booming voice followed the hand. I turned to see a mountain of a man, his face weathered and scarred, a broadsword strapped to his back. “Sir Roland, I presume?” I asked. He let out a gruff laugh, “The one and only. And you’re late.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> As I led Thunder towards the stables, a figure emerged from the dim interior, silhouetted against the flickering lantern light. "Well met, lad," a gravelly voice greeted. "You're Frederick, am I right?" The figure stepped forward, revealing the stern but not unkind face of Sir Roland, his armor gleaming in the fading light. "I trust your journey was uneventful?" he inquired, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> Before I even reached the stables, a voice rang out, strong and clear. "You there! Boy with the chestnut stallion! Don't think you can sneak in unnoticed." I turned, squinting in the fading light. A tall knight, his armor bearing the sigil of a golden hawk, strode towards me. "Sir Roland?" I questioned, He stopped before me, a wry smile on his lips. "At your service, squire. Though, perhaps a moment too slow for someone charged with protecting this kingdom." </nc-section>