<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder near the stables, a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, clad in a faded tabard and worn leather boots, regarded me with a spark of warmth in his steely blue eyes. “Welcome, Frederick,” he called out, his voice deep and assured. “You’ve made good time. The journey from your village is not an easy one.” He stepped forward, patting Thunder’s neck before offering me his hand. In that brief moment, standing amidst the scent of hay and horses, I sensed the start of something grand. “Let’s get you settled. Training begins at first light, and I expect nothing less than your best.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Humble Greeting" data-color="green"> Sir Roland stood beside the stable doors, arms folded and a gentle smile beneath his rough beard. “Frederick, I presume?” he asked, tilting his head in a gesture of welcome. I nodded, a little breathless from the ride. He strode over, helping me with Thunder’s reins. “Your horse has a fine gait. I see you know how to care for him.” He glanced around the stables, then returned his gaze to me. “There’s a bunk for you in the squire’s quarters. Stow your things, lad. We knights rise before the cocks do.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Knight's Challenge" data-color="blue"> Just as I led Thunder into the cool shade of the stables, Sir Roland stepped out from behind a pillar. His armor gleamed in the dying light, and there was a keen edge to his gaze. “Frederick!” he barked, his voice echoing over the cobblestone. “You carry yourself well—let us see if you live up to your reputation.” He circled me once, eyeing my stance and my grip on Thunder’s bridle. “Training begins tomorrow,” he continued, a faint smile playing at his lips. “But tonight, you dine with the squires—you’ll need your strength.” With that, he clapped me on the back, and together we led the horse toward the rows of waiting stalls. </nc-section>