<nc-section data-title="Version 1: Sir Roland's Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted from Thunder, a gruff voice called out from the shadows of the stable. "Another fresh-faced squire, I see." Sir Roland emerged, his scarred face weathered by countless battles. His armor clinked with each heavy step. He looked me up and down with eyes that seemed to pierce through my very soul. "Don't think that riding well means you're ready for what's to come, boy. I've seen a hundred like you arrive full of dreams. Half don't survive their first month." He grabbed Thunder's reins from my hands. "Get yourself to the barracks. Supper's already been served, but you can scrape whatever's left from the kitchens. Training begins at dawn—and I suggest you get some rest, because you'll need it." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: Sir Roland's Cautious Kindness" data-color="green"> A tall knight in polished silver armor stepped forward from near the stables, his face kind but serious. "Welcome, young Frederick," Sir Roland said, extending a calloused hand. "I am Sir Roland, master of the guard here at the castle. Your reputation precedes you—the blacksmith's son with a true gift for horsemanship, I'm told." He smiled warmly and took Thunder's reins with practiced ease. "This is a fine animal. You've treated him well, I can see. That speaks volumes about your character." He gestured toward the castle with a gentle sweep of his arm. "Come, let me show you to your quarters. The journey here must have been long and weary. We have much to discuss about your training, but first, you should eat and rest. Tomorrow, your real education begins." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: Sir Roland's Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> Before my boots could fully touch the cobblestones of the courtyard, a figure emerged from the stable doorway shrouded in the dying light of dusk. Sir Roland was taller than I expected, his armor bearing strange runes I didn't recognize. His eyes held an ancient wisdom that seemed older than the castle itself. "Frederick," he said, though I had never told him my name. "The dragon dreams have been calling for a new guardian, and it seems fate has answered." He moved closer, and I noticed his hand rested upon a sword hilt carved with images of scales and fire. "Tell me, boy—have you ever heard the legends of the Last Dragon? Because I fear your arrival here is no coincidence. There are forces at work far greater than knight's training or squire's duties." He studied my face intently. "The question is: are you ready to learn the truth?" </nc-section>