Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY7HN0634QA44GS20TC2A53

Okay, here are three different continuations of the story, each adhering to the instruction of Sir Roland greeting Frederick near the stables, and each using a different color designation. **Version 1 (red)** <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: A Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> The rhythmic clang of a hammer against steel drew me towards the stables, a sprawling structure smelling of hay and horse sweat. Leaning against a stall, meticulously cleaning a broadsword, stood a figure that radiated authority. Sir Roland, they called him - the Dragon Knight, though whispers hinted the “Dragon” part was more legend than current fact. He was a man carved from granite, with a face etched by years of war and a gaze that could chill a summer’s day. He didn't offer a smile, didn't even pause his careful polishing. “You’re the new squire, then?” he rumbled, his voice like stones grinding together. “Frederick, I presume. I expect discipline. I expect obedience. And I *expect* you to stay out of my way until you’ve proven you’re worth the straw beneath my horses' feet.” He finally looked up, his eyes assessing me with cold scrutiny. “Unload your supplies. Stable Thunder. Then find the kitchen scullery. You'll learn the value of hard work before you learn to wield a blade.” </nc-section> **Version 2 (green)** <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: A Knight's Observation" data-color="green"> The stables pulsed with life; grooms tending to horses, the scent of sweet feed mingling with leather and woodsmoke. A tall man stood observing a young stablehand expertly braiding a mare’s mane. He wasn’t actively *doing* anything, simply watching, but his presence commanded respect. It was Sir Roland, easily identified by the worn but impeccably maintained dragon emblem on his surcoat. He turned as I approached, a subtle movement that spoke of years spent assessing threats on the battlefield. A gentle smile touched his lips. "Welcome to Blackwood Castle, Frederick. A long ride, I imagine?” He gestured to a nearby groom. “Old Man Hemlock will see to Thunder. You look a bit travel-weary. Get yourself settled, and then find me in the training yard after you’ve had something to eat. We’ll see what kind of mettle you’re made of. Don’t worry about impressing me with fancy tales - show me your willingness to *learn*.” </nc-section> **Version 3 (blue)** <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: Shadows and Steel" data-color="blue"> A shadow detached itself from the gloom of the stables as I approached, coalescing into the imposing figure of Sir Roland. He wasn't polishing steel, like I'd expected, but rather studying a complex knot tied with what looked like dragonhide cord. A strange, almost melancholic air surrounded him. “So,” he said, his voice a low murmur carried on the evening breeze, "another one arrives, hoping to catch a glimpse of glory. Or perhaps, to *be* glory." He didn't seem to notice me directly, more like acknowledging a particularly persistent fly. "The stables are a good place to begin. Understand the beasts you might one day ride into battle. Understand their needs, their fears. It teaches patience, and humility. Qualities often lacking in aspiring knights.” He finally met my gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “See to your horse, then. And after that...ask for Elara. She runs the kitchens. She'll find you work. Don't expect accolades. Expect toil. This castle doesn’t reward ambition, it tests endurance.” </nc-section> I've tried to give each version a distinct tone and personality for Sir Roland, reflecting different interpretations of his character. Hopefully, one of these will be a good fit for the overall direction of your novel! Let me know if you'd like me to elaborate on any aspect or further develop a specific version.