<nc-section data-title="Arrival" data-color="blue"> As the sun disappeared behind the castle, Frederick dismounted Thunder and approached the stable master. The stables were bustling with activity, warmth emanating from the fires. Just then, Sir Roland, a local knight, emerged from the crowd. He was middle-aged, with a battle-worn face and eyes that held the wisdom of years. He greeted Frederick with a rough, hearty handshake, "Welcome, lad, to the Castle Mayfair. I'm Sir Roland."</nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Meet Sir Roland" data-color="green"> As the evening chill began to set in, Frederick tightened his grip around Thunder's reins and moved towards the stable's entrance. A soft murmur of conversations and the clattering hooves filled the air. Amidst the familiar sounds, Sir Roland stood out as a beacon of warmth and safety. Sir Roland approached, his stride confident and inviting. His eyes held a depth of experience and a glimmer of pride. "Welcome, Frederick, to the Castle Mayfair. My name is Sir Roland, and I take care of these honour-bound knights," he said, extending a welcoming hand. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Warm Introduction" data-color="red"> Frederick walked carefully towards the stable, the fading sunlight playing with the shadows around. The castle was alive, a chorus of hooves, far too many voices, reaching his ears as he dodged the hustle and bustle. Suddenly, air shifted around him as though directed. And there he was, Sir Roland - a figure engrained in local legend. What should've been a simple introduction scorched his skin with a different warmth. "Welcome home, Frederick," etched with a gruffness that belied a kind heart, he greeted Frederick, firm in a grip that felt like a silent promise.