Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPDQCFPFGSK38FKH18FGHB

<nc-section data-title="A Harsh Welcome" data-color="red"> Thunder’s hooves clattered to a halt as a towering figure stepped from the shadows of the stables, his armor still gleaming with the grime of battle. Sir Roland, the kingdom’s most feared knight, crossed his arms over his broad chest, his scarred face twisting into a sneer. **"You’re late, boy,"** he growled, his voice like gravel. **"And if you think squiring means polishing my sword while I drink, you’re dead wrong."** His gauntleted hand shot out, grabbing Thunder’s bridle with enough force to make the stallion snort in protest. **"First lesson: A knight’s steed is an extension of his will. Yours is soft. Just like you."** Frederick swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the reins—not in defiance, but to hide their tremor. </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="A Test of Worth" data-color="green"> The stables smelled of hay and leather, warm and earthy, as a man with silver-streaked hair emerged, wiping his hands on a cloth. Sir Roland’s sharp eyes missed nothing—the way Frederick sat straight in the saddle, the careful way he dismounted, the respectful nod he offered. **"So, you’re the new squire,"** the knight said, tossing the cloth aside. **"Prove you’re worth my time. That stallion of yours—how long have you had him?"** Frederick hesitated, then squared his shoulders. **"Three years, sir. I trained him myself."** Sir Roland’s lips quirked, just barely. **"Then you’ll do. But don’t think that earns you favor. A knight’s path is earned, not given."** He turned toward the castle, beckoning Frederick to follow. **"Walk with me. Let’s see if you can keep up."** </nc-section> --- <nc-section data-title="A Whisper of Warning" data-color="blue"> The stables were eerily quiet as Sir Roland stepped into the fading light, his cloak whispering against the cobblestones. He was older than Frederick expected, his face lined with years of service, his movements precise but weary. **"You’ve come at a dark time, boy,"** he murmured, his gaze flicking toward the castle’s highest tower, where a single window glowed with an unnatural hue. **"The king’s health fails, and the court buzzes with vultures. Even squires aren’t safe from their games."** Frederick’s breath caught. **"What do you mean, sir?"** Sir Roland’s voice dropped lower. **"I mean watch your back. And your tongue."** He clapped Frederick’s shoulder—not in comfort, but in urgency. **"Now come. The captain of the guard will want to see you before the evening bell."** </nc-section>