Run: 2026-02-18-01KHQ93TQ6B1NS1XQTWTVBWW88

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: Sir Roland's Greeting" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder near the stables, a broad-shouldered knight strode towards me with the confidence of a man who had seen a hundred battles. His armor bore the crest of the kingdom — a silver wolf on a field of midnight blue — and his greying beard was neatly trimmed beneath a weathered face. "You must be Frederick," he said, his voice like gravel rolling in a barrel. "I am Sir Roland. I have trained more squires than I care to count, and I have buried more than a few of them." He let the words hang in the air like smoke before cracking a wolfish grin. "Try not to end up in the latter group, boy." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: Sir Roland's Greeting" data-color="green"> The stables smelled of hay and horses, and it was there that I first laid eyes on Sir Roland. He was not what I had expected. Tall and lean, with kind eyes the color of autumn leaves, he moved with a quiet grace that seemed at odds with his fearsome reputation. He took Thunder's reins from my hands without a word, stroking the stallion's mane with a gentleness that surprised me. "A good horse reflects a good rider," he said softly, finally turning to meet my gaze. "And a good rider makes a worthy squire. Welcome to the castle, Frederick. I hope you are ready to learn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: Sir Roland's Greeting" data-color="blue"> I had barely tied Thunder to the post when I heard the clanking of heavy armor behind me. I spun around to find Sir Roland looming over me like a tower of iron and steel, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. For a long, uncomfortable moment he simply studied me, his sharp grey eyes moving from my dusty boots to my windswept hair as though he were appraising a horse at market. "Smaller than I expected," he finally muttered, almost to himself. Then he thrust out a gauntleted hand. "Sir Roland. Your mentor, your tormentor, and the closest thing to a father you will have within these walls. Drop your bags. Training begins at dawn." </nc-section>