<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Warm 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, strode forward with a broad smile creasing his weathered face. "Frederick, I presume?" His voice was deep and welcoming. He clasped my shoulder with a firm hand. "Your father spoke highly of you in his letters. Come, let me show you to your quarters. Tomorrow, your training begins in earnest." His eyes sparkled with kindness, and I felt my nervousness begin to fade. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Test of Character" data-color="green"> The stable master pointed toward a knight inspecting the horses. "Sir Roland," he called out. The knight turned, his armor gleaming even in the fading light. His eyes were cold, assessing. "So, you're the new squire," he said, his tone flat. He circled me slowly, like a predator evaluating prey. "Can you muck a stall? Polish armor until you can see your reflection? Because nobility of birth means nothing here, boy. Only your actions matter." He tossed me a brush. "Start with Thunder. When he's properly groomed, find me in the great hall." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: An Unexpected Friendship" data-color="blue"> I led Thunder into the stables, where a knight was tending to his own mount—a dappled grey mare. He looked up and grinned. "You must be Frederick! I'm Sir Roland." He was younger than I expected, perhaps only ten years my senior, with laugh lines around his eyes. "Don't worry about the formal stuff. We're going to be spending a lot of time together." He grabbed Thunder's reins. "Here, let me help you with that. This old boy looks tired from the journey. Tell me about yourself—where are you from? What made you want to become a knight?" </nc-section>