<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, the castle's master-at-arms, stood before me with arms crossed over his broad chest. His scarred face bore no smile, and his steel-gray eyes assessed me with the cold precision of a man who had seen a thousand hopefuls come and go. "You're late," he said, his voice like gravel. "The sun has already begun its descent, and you dare arrive at this hour? In my day, squires arrived at dawn, ready to prove their worth." He circled around Thunder, inspecting both horse and rider. "We'll see if you have what it takes, boy. The dragon's shadow grows longer each day, and we have no time for weakness." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Warm Mentor" data-color="green"> A hearty laugh echoed from the stable entrance as a broad-shouldered knight approached, his weathered face creasing into a genuine smile. Sir Roland extended his hand in greeting, his grip firm but welcoming. "Ah, young Frederick! Your reputation precedes you," he said warmly, giving Thunder an appreciative pat on the neck. "Fine steed you have there. I can see you take good care of him—that speaks well of your character." He gestured toward the castle. "Come, you must be exhausted from your journey. Let's get Thunder settled, and then I'll show you to your quarters. Tomorrow begins your training in earnest, but tonight, you are my guest. There's much I wish to tell you about the old ways, and the dragon that once protected these lands." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> The stable yard was empty save for the dancing shadows cast by flickering torches. I led Thunder toward the nearest stall when a figure materialized from the darkness—so suddenly and silently that my hand instinctively moved to my sword hilt. "Peace, young squire." Sir Roland's voice was soft, almost musical, quite unlike what I had expected from a seasoned warrior. His eyes held an otherworldly gleam in the torchlight. "You arrive on an auspicious night. The stars align as they did twenty years ago, when the last dragon took flight." He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I felt a strange warmth spread through me. "Tell me, Frederick—do you dream of dragons? Because they have been dreaming of you." </nc-section>