<nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 1: Red" data-color="red"> Sir Roland, an aged knight, met me at the stables. His armor had seen better days, but his eyes still sparkled with the determination of a young warrior. "Welcome, young Frederick. I'm Sir Roland. The master of the stables has been expecting you." His voice was deep, like the rumble of thunder. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 2: Green" data-color="green"> As I approached the stables, Sir Roland, a wiry knight with a wicked grin, hailed me. In between his peppered laugh, he introduced himself. "It's a pleasure, Frederick. I'm Sir Roland. Your steed's accommodations are nearby." He seemed amused, perhaps by my sheer determination and nervousness. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Alternate Version 3: Blue" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland, a lean old knight, greeted me by the stables. His eyes held a story I was eager to hear. "I'm Sir Roland, the master of ceremonies today. Dismount, lad, and let's get you settled." He seemed weathered but kind, an intriguing blend that made me even more eager to begin my training. </nc-section>