Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ91P7GMRQCWPG5KBP0V0KW

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting (Version 1)" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder near the stables, a gruff voice called out from the shadows. Sir Roland emerged, his armor catching the last rays of the dying sun. He was a broad-shouldered man, his face weathered by years of battle, a deep scar running from his left temple to his jaw. He looked me up and down with sharp, appraising eyes, as if measuring my worth in a single glance. "So, you're the boy they've sent me," he said, his voice like gravel. "You look too soft for this life, squire. Too soft by half." He crossed his arms and leaned against the stable door, a humorless smile playing on his lips. "But I've made knights out of worse. Barely." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting (Version 2)" data-color="green"> The stables smelled of hay and horses as I led Thunder through the great wooden gates of the courtyard. A warm laugh echoed across the cobblestones, and I turned to see Sir Roland striding toward me with open arms and a wide, welcoming smile. He was older than I had imagined from the stories, his auburn hair streaked with silver, but his eyes were kind and bright with intelligence. "Frederick! At last!" he said, clasping my hand firmly in both of his. "I knew your father well, boy. A finer man never drew a sword. Come, let us get your horse settled and find you a warm meal. Tomorrow, the real work begins, and you will need every ounce of strength you have." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Greeting (Version 3)" data-color="blue"> I had barely tied Thunder to the post when I noticed the figure standing silently at the corner of the stables, half-hidden in shadow. Sir Roland said nothing at first, simply watching me with an unreadable expression, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back. The silence stretched between us like a drawn bowstring. "Do you know why they call this place the Last Hold, boy?" he finally asked, his voice low and measured. I shook my head. He stepped forward into the fading light, and I saw something in his eyes I had not expected — not cruelty, nor warmth, but something deeper. Fear, perhaps. "Because something is coming," he said quietly, glancing toward the darkening horizon. "And you may be the only one who can stop it." </nc-section>