<nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 1: Unwelcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, Sir Roland approached me with a stern expression, his armor glinting in the fading light. "You're the newcomer, I presume?" he growled, his voice like a snag on a metal grate. "I hope you're prepared for a long, hard journey. You'll be eating plain rations and sleeping on a pallet, not some comfortable featherbed." His tone made me wonder if I'd made a mistake coming here. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 2: Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> Sir Roland greeted me with a broad smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ah, Frederick, good to see you We've been expecting you. Come, let me show you to the stables, and Thunder will appreciate the fresh hay we keep there." He led me to the stables, pointing out the various inhabitants: happy ponies, placid mares, and a curious foal that pranced over to investigate me. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 3: Guarded" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland eyed me warily as I tied Thunder to the hitching post. "So, you're the new recruit," he said, his voice neutral. "I'll show you to the armorer. He'll get you fitted for a proper suit of armor." He didn't ask me how I was or where I was from, only what kind of armor I preferred – steel or leather. I sensed that there was something more to him, something hidden beneath the surface. </nc-section>