<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, a gruff voice startled me. "Well, you took your time, lad." A towering figure with shoulders broader than a barn door stood before me, his chainmail clinking with each step. "Sir Roland at your service," he said, extending a gauntlet-clad hand. "And you must be the whelp they sent to pester me." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> A hand fell heavily on my shoulder as I was securing Thunder's reins. "Welcome to Castle Aldermark, lad." I turned to find a man built like an oak tree, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Sir Roland," he introduced himself, his grip surprisingly gentle. "Come, let's see if your skills in the stable match your enthusiasm." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> The stablehand guiding Thunder gestured towards a figure sharpening a sword nearby. "He's been expecting you, lad." The man had his back to me, his broad frame radiating an aura of quiet strength. He sheathed his blade, turning with a movement that was both fluid and powerful. "Frederick," he acknowledged, his gaze steady and assessing. "I am Sir Roland." </nc-section>