Here are three alternate prose sections for your story, each with a distinct tone and style: --- ### **Version 1 (red)** <nc-section data-title="The Knight’s Welcome" data-color="red"> The iron-shod hooves of Thunder clattered against the cobblestones as I reined him to a halt near the stables. The scent of hay and leather filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of armor. Before I could dismount, a figure emerged from the shadows—a towering man clad in polished steel, his surcoat bearing the crest of a snarling wolf. "Frederick of Blackthorn, I presume?" His voice was deep, roughened by years of command. Sir Roland, the castle’s most feared knight, stood before me, his gauntleted hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, studied me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. I swallowed hard, sliding from Thunder’s back. "Aye, sir. I’ve come to serve as squire." A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips. "Then you’d best learn quickly, boy. The castle is no place for the weak." He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing me whole. "And the dragons? They’re even less forgiving." My breath hitched. *Dragons?* Sir Roland’s laughter boomed like thunder. "Didn’t they tell you? The Last Dragon still breathes in these mountains. And if you’re to survive here, you’ll need more than a sword and a prayer." The weight of his words settled over me like a shroud. This was no ordinary training. This was a trial by fire. </nc-section> --- ### **Version 2 (green)** <nc-section data-title="A Warm Handshake" data-color="green"> The stable yard was alive with the hum of activity—grooms brushing down horses, blacksmiths hammering at their forges, and the distant clatter of training swords. I had just handed Thunder’s reins to a stable boy when a voice, warm and rich as honey, called out behind me. "Ah, you must be Frederick!" I turned to see a broad-shouldered knight striding toward me, his armor gleaming in the fading light. His face was weathered but kind, his dark beard streaked with silver. Sir Roland, the castle’s legendary knight, extended a hand in greeting. "Welcome to Blackthorn Keep," he said, his grip firm but not crushing. "I’ve heard good things about you from Lord Aldric. A sharp mind and a steady hand, they say." I felt my cheeks warm. "I’ll do my best, sir." Sir Roland chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. "That’s all any of us can do, lad. Now, let’s get you settled. You’ll be sharing quarters with young Tomas—he’s a bit rough around the edges, but a good heart. And tomorrow?" His eyes twinkled. "Tomorrow, we start your training. Swordplay, strategy, and—" he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice—"a few *other* lessons. The mountains here hold more than just stone and snow." I raised an eyebrow. "Other lessons, sir?" He winked. "Patience, Frederick. All in good time." As we walked toward the castle, the weight of my new life settled on my shoulders—not as a burden, but as a promise. </nc-section> --- ### **Version 3 (blue)** <nc-section data-title="The Knight’s Test" data-color="blue"> The stables were quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of hay as the grooms moved about their work. I had just secured Thunder’s tack when a voice cut through the stillness, sharp as a blade. "Frederick of Blackthorn." I turned to see Sir Roland leaning against a post, his arms crossed over his chest. His armor was immaculate, the steel etched with runes I didn’t recognize. His gaze was unreadable, his expression as cold as the mountain winds. "You’re late," he said. I stiffened. "The road was longer than expected, sir." He pushed off the post and stepped closer, his boots silent on the straw. "Excuses are for the weak. Here, you either act or you fail." His hand shot out, gripping my wrist before I could react. His fingers were like iron. "Tell me, boy—what do you know of dragons?" The question caught me off guard. "Dragons, sir? They’re… legends. Myths." Sir Roland’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Legends have teeth, Frederick. And this one?" He released my wrist, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This one is still alive." A chill ran down my spine. Before I could respond, he turned and strode toward the castle gates. "Follow me. If you’re to survive here, you’ll need to learn faster than you’ve ever learned before." I hesitated only a second before falling into step behind him. The castle loomed ahead, its towers piercing the twilight sky. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. And for the first time, I wondered if I was ready for what lay ahead. </nc-section>