<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Cold Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted from Thunder, a tall figure emerged from the shadows of the stables. His armor gleamed dully in the fading light, scratched and worn from countless battles. This was Sir Roland, the knight I'd heard so many tales about. "You must be Frederick," he said, his voice as cold and hard as the steel he wore. His eyes, gray as winter skies, assessed me with obvious disappointment. "I expected someone... more." He circled me slowly, like a predator evaluating prey. "The dragon's bones will make a fine resting place for you, boy. If you survive the first week of training." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Mentor's Welcome" data-color="green"> I had barely secured Thunder to the post when hearty laughter rolled across the courtyard. A broad-shouldered knight with a salt-and-pepper beard strode toward me, his hand extended in greeting. "Welcome to Castle Dragonskeep, young Frederick!" Sir Roland's voice boomed with warmth and authority. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Your father spoke highly of your skill with a bow." He clasped my shoulder firmly. "We have much work ahead of us, but I see promise in you. The blood of heroes runs in your veins—perhaps you'll be the one mentioned in the prophecy." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> Thunder whinnied nervously as I approached the stables. The air felt different here—charged with something I couldn't name. A figure stood in the doorway, his silhouette outlined against the golden straw within. "Frederick of the Western Vale," Sir Roland said softly, his voice like the whisper of steel leaving its scabbard. His face remained half in shadow, but I could see an intricate scar tracing from his temple to jaw—a reminder of his encounter with the last dragon. "You've arrived at an auspicious time." His eyes, an unnatural amber color, seemed to glow in the twilight. "The signs have appeared. After centuries of waiting, the cycle begins anew." </nc-section>