Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY83FXA5FXVX602SP8MKPY8

Okay, here are three alternate prose sections continuing the story, each with a specified color, following your instructions: **Version 1 (Red)** <nc-section data-title="A Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> Sir Roland, a man forged in battle with scars etched deep into his weathered face, emerged from the stables. He wasn't a man given to pleasantries; his gaze, sharp and assessing, immediately landed on me. “You must be Frederick,” he rumbled, his voice like grinding stone. “Don't mistake my silence for kindness. I’ve seen countless hopefuls pass through these gates, each brimming with false bravado and naive dreams. Prove yourself worthy of breathing the same air as the Dragon Knights, and you might earn a sliver of my respect. Otherwise…” He trailed off, letting the unspoken threat hang heavy in the twilight air. He hefted his sword, the steel glinting ominously. “Let’s begin.” </nc-section> **Version 2 (Green)** <nc-section data-title="A Measured Approach" data-color="green"> Sir Roland, clad in polished green armor that reflected the fading sunlight, approached with a surprising grace for a knight of his size. He wasn't imposing in a terrifying way, but radiated an aura of quiet strength and experience. “Frederick, isn’t it?” he inquired, his voice a low, thoughtful baritone. “Welcome to Blackwood Keep. I’m Roland. I’ve been expecting you. The Captain has informed me of your arrival and your…ambitions. Training here is not about glory or heroism, lad. It’s about discipline, resilience, and understanding the immense responsibility that comes with being a Dragon Knight. I will test you not with swordplay, though you’ll need skill, but with your patience and your willingness to learn. Follow me.” He gestured towards the castle entrance, a subtle smile playing on his lips. </nc-section> **Version 3 (Blue)** <nc-section data-title="An Old Guard" data-color="blue"> The rain had begun to fall, a fine mist that clung to the stone walls of the stables. Sir Roland, an older knight with silver streaks woven through his dark hair, stood patiently beneath a carved stone overhang. He seemed a relic of a bygone era, his movements deliberate and slow, his eyes holding a profound sadness. “Frederick,” he said, his voice soft despite the drizzle. “I’ve been assigned to mentor the new recruits. It's…difficult these days. Fewer young men seek this path, and those who do often lack the fortitude, the understanding of what it truly means to serve the Dragon.” He paused, regarding me with a thoughtful gaze. “The dragons…they’re not beasts to be tamed, lad. They’re ancient forces, reflections of the land itself. You will learn to respect them, to work *with* them, not against them. Your journey begins now.” He extended a gnarled hand, offering a simple, almost melancholic greeting. </nc-section> --- Which version do you like best, or would you like me to combine elements from different versions to create something entirely new?