<nc-section data-title="Version 1: Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder, a towering figure emerged from the stables. Sir Roland, clad in polished armor that reflected the dying sunlight, fixed me with a steely gaze. "You're late, boy," he growled, his scarred face betraying years of battle experience. "The first lesson of knighthood is punctuality. You'll do well to remember that." His cold reception made my stomach sink, but I straightened my spine and met his gaze, determined to prove my worth. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: Friendly Mentor" data-color="green"> "Ah, you must be Frederick!" A warm voice called out as I tended to Thunder. Sir Roland approached with an easy smile, his graying hair and laugh lines speaking to decades of experience. "I watched your approach from the battlements - you handle that horse beautifully." He clasped my shoulder with a strong hand. "I have a feeling you'll do well here, lad. Come, let's get you settled in before supper." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: Mysterious Guide" data-color="blue"> The stables were quiet save for the soft nickering of horses when a shadow fell across the doorway. "Welcome to Castle Drakemoor," came a measured voice. Sir Roland stepped into view, his face half-hidden beneath a deep hood. A legendary dragon-slayer, they said, though he looked more like a scholar than a warrior. "You've arrived at an interesting time, young Frederick. There are strange winds blowing from the north." His words sent an inexplicable chill down my spine. </nc-section>