Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9JQ8MCHMN1YVTE04ABE9H

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted Thunder near the stables, a tall figure emerged from the shadows of the hayloft. Sir Roland, the local knight, his armor gleaming under the fading light, extended a gauntleted hand. "Welcome, young squire Frederick," he boomed, his voice like rolling thunder. "You've journeyed far; let us see if your spirit matches your steed's fire." His eyes, sharp as a falcon's, appraised me, hinting at the trials to come within the castle walls. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: Shadows of the Stable" data-color="green"> Thunder's hooves clattered to a halt by the stables, steam rising from his flanks in the cool evening air. From the wooden beams above, Sir Roland descended like a guardian spirit, his cloak billowing softly. "Frederick, is it?" he said with a warm grin, clasping my shoulder firmly. "The road has tested you already, lad. Come, stable your horse and share tales of your travels over a hot meal—the castle's hearth awaits." His presence was reassuring, a bulwark against the unknown mysteries of the keep. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: Echoes of Arrival" data-color="blue"> I guided Thunder into the stable yard just as the sun dipped below the horizon, lanterns flickering to life. Sir Roland strode forward from the tack room, his boots crunching on the gravel, a broadsword at his hip. "Hail, squire Frederick," he called out, his tone laced with stern approval. "Your timely arrival pleases the captain. Tend to your mount, then report to the hall—we've much to discuss about the whispers of dragons stirring in the east." His words carried the weight of ancient oaths, drawing me deeper into the chronicle's unfolding saga. </nc-section>