Certainly! I'll create three alternate prose sections continuing the story with Sir Roland greeting Frederick near the stables. Each version will have a different tone and approach. <nc-section data-title="Version 1: Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, a tall figure emerged from the shadows of the stables. His armor gleamed in the fading light, and his stern gaze locked onto me. "You must be Frederick," he said, his voice gruff and commanding. "I am Sir Roland. You're late, boy. I expected you here before sundown." My heart sank as I realized my journey had taken longer than anticipated. "I... I apologize, Sir," I stammered, bowing my head in respect. Sir Roland's eyes narrowed as he assessed me. "Well, don't just stand there. Stable your horse and report to the great hall. Your training begins at dawn, and tardiness will not be tolerated." With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving me to wonder if I was truly cut out for this life. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: Friendly Encounter" data-color="green"> As I approached the stables, a hearty laugh caught my attention. A knight with a salt-and-pepper beard and kind eyes stepped forward, extending his hand. "Welcome, young Frederick! I'm Sir Roland, and I've been eagerly awaiting your arrival." His warm smile instantly put me at ease. "I trust your journey was safe?" I nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, Sir Roland. Thank you for your concern." He clapped me on the shoulder, his eyes twinkling. "Excellent! Let's get your horse settled, and then I'll show you to your quarters. We have much to discuss about your training, but first, you must be famished. How about we share a meal in the great hall? I'd love to hear about your adventures on the road." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> The stables loomed before me, shrouded in twilight shadows. As I led Thunder towards the entrance, a figure materialized from the darkness. "Frederick," a voice called, soft yet authoritative. I squinted, making out the silhouette of a knight. "I am Sir Roland." He stepped forward, and I gasped. His armor seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly blue light. "Your arrival was foretold," he continued, his eyes searching mine. "The dragon's prophecy speaks of a squire from distant lands." My breath caught in my throat. Dragon? Prophecy? Sir Roland placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch sending a tingling sensation through my body. "Come," he said, "there is much you need to know, and time is of the essence. The fate of our kingdom may rest in your hands." </nc-section>