Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK12NYPPAATZXZWYNFNG4RZ

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> Sir Roland stood by the stone trough, his arms crossed over a breastplate scarred by countless battles. As Frederick dismounted, the knight's gaze was unyielding, piercing through the boy's exhaustion. "You're late, squire," Roland grunted, his voice like grinding stones. He circled Thunder, inspecting the horse's flanks with a critical eye before turning his attention back to Frederick. "A knight is judged by the care he gives his mount before his own comfort. Leave the saddle; we begin your lessons on stability now, not at dawn." There was no warmth in his welcome, only the cold weight of expectation. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Gentle Mentor" data-color="green"> Near the fragrant hay of the stables, Sir Roland emerged from the shadows, a kind smile softening the lines of his weathered face. He reached out to steady Frederick as the young squire stumbled slightly after the long ride. "Welcome to Ironhold, Frederick," Roland said softly, taking the reins of Thunder with practiced ease. "The road has been long, and you look weary. Stables are no place for formalities tonight. Unbrace yourself, boy, and let us get these horses fed and watered. There will be time enough for swords and shields when the sun rises; for now, rest is your only duty." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Practical Test" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland was already knee-deep in straw when Frederick approached, tossing a bundle of oats into a stall with efficient grace. He didn't look up immediately, finishing his task before wiping his hands on a rag and fixing Frederick with a sharp, assessing stare. "So, you're the new squire," Roland stated, gesturing to the muddy hooves of Thunder. "The castle gates are closed for the night, which means you'll be sleeping in the loft above. But first, show me how you curry a beast that's ridden hard. If you can't handle the brush, you'll never handle the lance." He tossed a grooming kit at Frederick's feet, the metal clattering loudly in the quiet stable. </nc-section>