Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNF66NQDPZQDDB9RPBYG1G7

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I approached the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, the local knight, stood with his arms crossed, his weathered armor glinting in the fading light. His scarred face showed no warmth as he regarded me. "So you're the new squire," he said, his voice gruff. "I've heard tales of your family. Let's hope you live up to them." He gestured toward the stables. "You'll start by caring for the horses. A knight who cannot care for his steed is no knight at all." I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. I had imagined grand tournaments, not mucking out stalls. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Warm Greeting" data-color="green"> I had just dismounted when a hearty laugh echoed across the stable yard. Sir Roland approached, his broad shoulders relaxed and a genuine smile on his face. "Welcome, young Frederick!" he exclaimed, clasping my shoulder with a firm hand. "We've been expecting you. Your father was a fine man—some of my best memories are from our days training together." He led me toward the stables, pointing out the various horses. "This is Shadow, my trusted companion. And this..." he said, gesturing to an empty stall, "will be for Thunder. We'll make a knight of you yet!" His warmth put me at ease. Perhaps this place would feel like home after all. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mysterious Encounter" data-color="blue"> I was brushing Thunder's mane when I sensed I was not alone. Turning, I found a knight watching me from the doorway—Sir Roland. His eyes, a piercing gray, seemed to look straight through me. "You're earlier than I anticipated," he said slowly, stepping into the stable. "The prophecy mentioned one who would come at dusk, but I had my doubts." I frowned. "Prophecy, sir?" He ignored my question and knelt beside me, producing an ancient medallion from beneath his cloak. "This belonged to your father. He left it for you, should you ever arrive here." He pressed it into my palm. "There are things about your heritage you must learn—but first, you must prove yourself worthy." The medallion pulsed with an inner warmth I could not explain. </nc-section>