<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadows of the gatehouse. Sir Roland's armor gleamed even in the fading light, his weathered face bearing the scars of countless battles. He clasped my forearm in greeting, his grip like iron. "So you're the one Lord Ashworth sent," he said, his voice deep as rolling thunder. "I expected someone... taller." I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze. "I may lack height, Sir Roland, but I assure you I do not lack determination." A hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. "We shall see, young Frederick. We shall see." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> The stable master took Thunder's reins as I slid from the saddle, my legs aching from three days of hard riding. I was stretching my sore muscles when a voice called out from behind me. "Frederick of Millbrook, I presume?" I turned to find Sir Roland approaching, his crimson cloak billowing behind him. He was younger than I had imagined—perhaps thirty winters—with kind eyes that seemed at odds with the sword hanging at his hip. "You've arrived just in time for supper," he said warmly, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Come. Let us get some food in your belly before we discuss your training. A hungry squire is a useless squire, my father always said." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> I had barely secured Thunder in his stall when the clatter of armor announced someone's approach. Sir Roland appeared in the stable doorway, his silhouette framed against the dying light. He said nothing at first, simply watching as I brushed down my horse with careful, practiced strokes. "You tend to your mount before yourself," he observed quietly. "Good. Too many young men forget that their horse may one day be the only thing standing between them and death." He stepped closer, and I noticed the dragon sigil emblazoned on his breastplate—the mark of those who had faced the great beasts and lived. "Welcome to Thornhaven, Frederick. Your real education begins at dawn." </nc-section>