Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFKXFJKJKRJ6YWQSNJ6DPY

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Formal Welcome" data-color="red"> As I led Thunder towards the stable yard, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, the castle's master-at-arms, stood imposing in full armor, his scarred face revealing decades of battle experience. His steel-grey eyes studied me intently. "So you're the new squire," he spoke, his voice rough like gravel. "I've heard much about you, boy. Let's hope your reputation precedes your actual skill." He gestured toward the stables. "See that your horse is properly tended to. In this castle, we respect our mounts above ourselves. A knight who cannot care for his steed is no knight at all." I nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity in his words. Sir Roland's stern demeanor suggested he would be a demanding teacher, but perhaps that was exactly what I needed. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Warm Greeting" data-color="green"> Just as I was about to enter the stables, a booming laugh echoed across the yard. A broad-shouldered man with a friendly face approached me, his silver hair catching the last rays of sunlight. "Welcome, young Frederick! I am Sir Roland." He clapped me on the shoulder with enough force to nearly knock me from my feet. "My apologies—I forget my own strength sometimes." He smiled warmly and looked at Thunder with appreciation. "And what a fine specimen! You have good taste in horses, son." He led me towards the stables, chatting enthusiastically about castle life and what to expect in my training. "You'll work hard here," he said, "but we'll have you swinging a sword properly before you know it. Now let's get your horse settled—he's had a long journey, just like you." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: An Enigmatic Encounter" data-color="blue"> I had just reached the stable doors when I sensed I was being watched. Turning slowly, I found a tall knight observing me from beneath the archway of the armory. His dark hair fell across one eye, and his expression was unreadable. "Frederick," he said, though I had not given my name. "I am Sir Roland." He stepped forward, his boots silent on the cobblestones. "There are whispers about your arrival. Some say you were destined to come here. Others say you bring trouble." He stopped just inches from me, studying my face as if searching for something hidden. "I will be watching you closely, young squire. The stable is the last door on the left. I suggest you rest well tonight." He turned and vanished into the shadows without another word, leaving me with a chill that had nothing to do with the evening air. </nc-section>