<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Knight" data-color="red"> As I tethered Thunder to a post near the stables, a shadow fell across the courtyard. I turned to see a towering figure in gleaming armor approaching with purposeful strides. "You must be Frederick," the man said, his voice as hard as the steel he wore. His face, weathered by countless battles, bore a long scar from temple to jaw. "I am Sir Roland, master-at-arms of this castle." He circled me slowly, eyes critical and cold. "You look scrawny for a squire. The battlefield shows no mercy to the weak. Remember that." Without waiting for my response, he tossed me a wooden practice sword that clattered at my feet. "Dawn tomorrow. Training yard. Be late, and you'll wish you'd never come to this castle at all." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Fatherly Mentor" data-color="green"> I was brushing down Thunder after our long journey when hearty laughter echoed through the stables. A knight with salt-and-pepper hair and kind eyes approached, his armor polished but bearing the dents of many honorable battles. "Welcome to Dragonspire Castle, young Frederick!" he said warmly, extending a calloused hand. "I am Sir Roland. Your father spoke highly of your skills with both books and blades." As we shook hands, his eyes twinkled with wisdom. "The path of a knight is not an easy one, lad, but I sense great potential in you." He clapped me on the shoulder with fatherly affection. "Come, let's get you settled. Tomorrow's training begins early, and the cook makes a breakfast worth waking up for!" </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Mysterious Guardian" data-color="blue"> The stable was quiet as I unsaddled Thunder, save for the occasional snort of horses and the distant crows of ravens. I sensed a presence before I heard it—a knight leaning against a wooden post, watching me with calculating eyes. "Frederick of Westhollow," he said, more statement than question. "I am Sir Roland." He wore no helmet, revealing a face that betrayed no emotion and eyes that seemed to hold ancient secrets. "The castle has been expecting you," he continued, straightening up. "These are dangerous times. The dragons may be gone, but their shadows remain." He handed me a small medallion bearing an unfamiliar crest. "Keep this close. Not everyone within these walls is a friend." Before I could question him further, he gestured toward the keep. "Come. There is much to learn, and time grows short." </nc-section>