<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Harsh Welcome" data-color="red"> Sir Roland stood by the stable entrance, his weathered face stern and unforgiving. "So, you're the new whelp," he growled, barely glancing at Frederick as he dismounted Thunder. The knight's scarred hands gripped the pommel of his sword, and his gray eyes narrowed with disapproval. "Late on your first day. In my time, squires who arrived after sunset were sent back to their mothers." He spat on the ground near Frederick's boots. "Stable your beast quickly, boy. If you're not in the great hall in ten minutes, you'll be mucking out stalls until dawn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Warm Reception" data-color="green"> "Ah, you must be Frederick!" Sir Roland's booming voice carried across the courtyard as he strode toward the stables, his arms open in welcome. The knight's face, though marked by years of battle, bore a genuine smile that reached his kind eyes. "I was beginning to worry the roads had given you trouble. Come, come! Let me help you with Thunder—magnificent creature, by the way." He patted the stallion's neck appreciatively. "You've had a long journey, lad. We'll get your horse settled, then I'll personally show you to your quarters. Tomorrow begins your true test, but tonight, you feast as my guest!" </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> A figure emerged from the shadows of the stable, moving with the fluid grace of a seasoned warrior. Sir Roland's face was obscured by twilight, but his voice carried an strange, urgent tone. "Frederick," he said, though no introductions had been made. "You arrive at a fortuitous time... or perhaps the worst possible moment." His hand gestured toward the castle's highest tower, where an unusual green light flickered in a window. "Stable your horse quickly and speak to no one else. There are matters we must discuss—matters concerning your true purpose here, and why the last dragon chose you." </nc-section>