<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder near the weathered stone stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland's armor gleamed despite the gathering dusk, his scarred face set in a grim expression. "So, you're the new whelp," he growled, his voice like grinding steel. His cold gray eyes assessed me from head to toe, lingering on my worn traveling clothes and mud-splattered boots. "I've broken a dozen squires stronger than you, boy. The dragon wars have no patience for weakness." He stepped closer, his massive frame blocking out the dying light. "Drop your belongings in the stable. Training begins at dawn, and I promise you - it will be nothing like the fairy tales." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Warm Reception" data-color="green"> The gentle whinny of horses guided me toward the stables, where a kind-faced knight was brushing down a chestnut mare. Sir Roland looked up with twinkling eyes and a genuine smile that creased his weathered features. "Ah, young Frederick! We've been expecting you," he said warmly, setting down his brush and extending a callused but welcoming hand. "I see Thunder has served you well on your journey - he's a fine companion." The knight's voice carried the wisdom of years, yet held none of the harsh edge I had feared. "Come, let me show you to your quarters. Tomorrow we begin your training, but tonight, you rest. The path of a dragon hunter requires both strength and patience, and we shall nurture both in equal measure." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> A figure cloaked in midnight blue emerged silently from between the stable posts, moving with an otherworldly grace that made no sound on the cobblestones. Sir Roland's face was hidden beneath his hood, but I caught the glint of ancient eyes that seemed to hold secrets of ages past. "Frederick," he spoke, his voice carrying an odd resonance, as if it echoed from distant caverns. "Your arrival was foretold in the old texts." He gestured toward Thunder, who stamped nervously and rolled his eyes white. "The last dragon stirs in the northern peaks, and the signs grow stronger each day. Your training will be... unconventional." Lightning flickered in the clear sky above, though no storm clouds were visible. "Tell me, young squire - do you dream of fire?" </nc-section>