<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the weathered stone stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland's armor gleamed despite the grime of recent battle, and his scarred face bore the hard expression of a man who had seen too much war. "So, you're the new whelp," he growled, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "I've broken stronger men than you, boy. If you think this will be some noble adventure from the tales, you're about to learn otherwise." His steel-gray eyes studied me with the intensity of a hawk sizing up its prey. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Wise Mentor" data-color="green"> A gentle voice called out as I led Thunder toward the stable doors. "Welcome, young Frederick." Sir Roland approached with measured steps, his weathered hands clasped behind his back. Though his hair had turned silver and lines mapped his face like old parchment, his eyes held a warmth that immediately put me at ease. "I see you've made good time. Thunder here looks as tired as you must feel." He patted my horse's neck with practiced care. "Come, let's get your mount settled, and then we'll discuss what your training will entail. There's much to learn, but we'll take it one step at a time." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Mysterious Guardian" data-color="blue"> The stables stood eerily quiet as I approached, save for the soft nickering of horses within. Then, as if materializing from the very stones themselves, Sir Roland appeared. His dark cloak billowed around him, and there was something otherworldly in his pale blue eyes—as though they held secrets older than the castle itself. "Frederick," he said, my name rolling off his tongue like an incantation. "I've been expecting you for quite some time. Tell me, young squire, what do you know of dragons?" His question hung in the air like morning mist, and I felt as though my entire destiny had shifted with those few words. </nc-section>