Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK222MG6ZXJ8BXADHG3Y2GC

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> The heavy thud of hooves on cobblestone echoed as I reined Thunder in near the stables. Before I could even dismount, a shadow fell over us. Sir Roland stood there, his armor scarred from countless battles, his expression as unyielding as the castle walls behind him. He did not smile. "So, this is the new squire," he rumbled, his voice like grinding stones. He circled Thunder, inspecting the beast with a critical eye before turning his gaze to me. "Put your beast away quickly, boy. In this castle, tardiness is punished more severely than cowardice. Your training begins at dawn, and if you are not ready, you will regret the day you were born." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Warm Embrace" data-color="green"> As I guided Thunder toward the warm, hay-scented air of the stables, a hearty laugh rang out, cutting through the twilight. Sir Roland emerged from the shadows, not with a sword in hand, but with a wide, welcoming grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Frederick!" he boomed, clapping a heavy gauntleted hand on my shoulder before I could even bow. "Welcome to the hold! I heard you rode the entire way from the northern valleys without stopping. That takes spirit." He helped me unbuckle Thunder's saddle with surprising gentleness. "Rest your horse well tonight, lad. Tomorrow we start the true work, but for now, let us get you some hot stew. You look like you've seen a ghost or two on the road." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: The Silent Test" data-color="blue"> I had barely touched the ground when Sir Roland appeared beside the stable doors. He said nothing, offering no greeting, no smile, and no wave. Instead, he simply watched as I attended to Thunder, his eyes tracking every movement I made. When I attempted to lift the heavy saddle, he stepped forward, placing a single finger on the leather to stop me. "Again," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rustling straw. I frowned, confused, and tried to lift it with a different grip. He nodded once, a microscopic gesture. "Good. You observe before you act. Most squires would have strained their backs by now." Only then did he extend a hand. "I am Sir Roland. Let us see if your mind is as sharp as your hands." </nc-section>