<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Knight’s Warm Welcome" data-color="red"> Frederick slid from Thunder’s back, the horse’s flared nostrils misting in the cool evening air. He had barely brushed hay from his boots when a tall figure in polished breastplate strode into the torchlight. Sir Roland, the castle’s local knight, offered a broad grin beneath his helm. “Welcome to Highreach, Squire Frederick,” Roland boomed, clapping him on the shoulder so hard Frederick nearly staggered. “You’ll find the stables and my training yard just ahead—come, let me introduce you to the rest of the guard.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Stern Salute" data-color="green"> Frederick tethered Thunder to a post and turned as heavy boots clanked across the flagstones. Sir Roland stood before him, gauntleted hand raised in salute, his green surcoat bearing the kingdom’s crest. “State your name and lineage, boy,” Roland demanded, voice as sharp as the swords hanging at his side. Frederick swallowed and spoke plainly; the knight’s stern gaze softened by the final syllable. With a curt nod, Roland gestured toward the stable door. “We uphold honor here. Follow me—your first lesson begins at dawn.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mentor’s Pledge" data-color="blue"> Frederick paused, surprised when a gentle voice spoke from the shadow of the stable roof. Sir Roland stepped forward, his blue cloak whispering against the stone. “You carry yourself well, for a squire seeing his first castle walls,” the knight observed, eyes kind beneath the brim of his helm. He extended a wrapped cylinder of parchment. “This is your invitation—to train under my wing. Meet me by the forge at first light, and together we’ll shape you into the defender this realm needs.” </nc-section>