Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXPJ7CWBPCNKS788PS9W2ZA

Here are three alternate prose sections for your story, each with a distinct tone and style: --- ### **Version 1 (Red – Dramatic, Intense)** <nc-section data-title="The Knight’s Shadow" data-color="red"> The castle loomed before me, its towers clawing at the darkening sky. Thunder’s hooves thundered against the cobblestones as I reined him in near the stables. There, beneath the flickering torchlight, stood a figure clad in blackened steel—Sir Roland, the Iron Mace of Eldermere. His gaze locked onto mine, cold and unyielding. The scars on his face twisted as he spoke, his voice like gravel under a boot. *"You’re late, squire."* The weight of his presence pressed down on me, heavy as the sword at his hip. I swallowed hard, knowing this was no mere greeting—it was a test. *"Forgive me, my lord,"* I stammered, dismounting. *"The road was—"* *"The road is never an excuse."* He stepped forward, his shadow swallowing mine. *"A knight does not apologize. He endures."* His gauntleted hand clamped onto my shoulder, fingers digging in. *"Prove you can do the same."* </nc-section> --- ### **Version 2 (Green – Warm, Mentor-like)** <nc-section data-title="A Knight’s Welcome" data-color="green"> The scent of hay and leather filled the air as I guided Thunder into the stable yard. A broad-shouldered knight leaned against the post, arms crossed, his weathered face breaking into a grin. *"Ah, so the rumors are true,"* he said, pushing off the wood. *"Young Frederick’s finally arrived."* His voice was deep but warm, like a hearth on a winter’s night. *"I’m Sir Roland. Welcome to Eldermere."* I dismounted, bowing slightly. *"Thank you, my lord. It’s an honor."* He chuckled, clapping me on the back. *"None of that ‘my lord’ nonsense yet. You’ll earn that title soon enough."* His eyes twinkled as he looked me over. *"Come, let’s get you settled. The others are eager to meet you—though I warn you, the training’s no gentle thing."* A stablehand took Thunder’s reins, and Sir Roland gestured toward the castle. *"First lesson, lad: A knight’s strength isn’t just in his arm, but in his heart. Remember that."* </nc-section> --- ### **Version 3 (Blue – Mysterious, Forboding)** <nc-section data-title="The Silent Knight" data-color="blue"> The stables were empty save for one figure, standing motionless in the twilight. Sir Roland. His armor was dented, his cloak frayed at the edges, as if he’d ridden through storms that would break lesser men. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just watched. I dismounted, my boots crunching on the gravel. *"Sir Roland?"* My voice sounded too loud in the quiet. At last, he turned. His face was half-hidden in shadow, but his eyes—sharp as a blade’s edge—held mine. *"You’ve come,"* he said, voice low. *"Good. The others won’t be so kind."* A chill ran down my spine. *"The others?"* He stepped closer, the scent of steel and old blood clinging to him. *"The castle has ears, squire. And not all of them are friendly."* His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. *"Stay sharp. That’s your first lesson."* Before I could respond, he strode past me, leaving only the echo of his words—and the weight of something unspoken. </nc-section> ---