Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB3WAHE927XJW9FN1TM2C5

Okay, here are three alternate prose sections continuing the story, adhering to your instructions and color specifications: **Version 1 (Red):** <nc-section data-title="A Formal Greeting" data-color="red"> Sir Roland, a man sculpted from granite and weathered steel, stood near the stables, his hand resting on the pommel of his broadsword. He was a veteran of countless battles, his face etched with the stories of a thousand victories and a few defeats. He regarded me with a scrutinizing gaze, his blue eyes sharp and assessing. “So, the new squire finally arrives,” he rumbled, his voice a low growl. “I am Sir Roland, Knight of Eldoria. You will find training here… rigorous. Do not mistake my size for weakness; I hold no patience for foolishness or incompetence.” He offered a curt nod, a silent challenge. Thunder shifted nervously beneath me, sensing the palpable weight of the knight’s presence. </nc-section> **Version 2 (Green):** <nc-section data-title="A Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> A figure emerged from the stables, a flash of emerald green amidst the grey stone. It was Sir Roland, and he possessed a surprisingly gentle demeanor. He knelt, offering a hand to help me dismount Thunder. “Welcome to Castle Blackwood, young Frederick,” he said, his voice a pleasant tenor. “I’m Roland. Don’t be intimidated – though Eldoria’s guard is formidable, our training emphasizes discipline *and* compassion. We believe a knight should be strong, yes, but also just. You'll be spending your time with Master Thorne, a stern but ultimately fair instructor. He’ll push you to your limits, but he’ll do it with the goal of molding you into a worthy protector.” He smiled faintly, a genuine expression that softened the lines around his eyes. </nc-section> **Version 3 (Blue):** <nc-section data-title="Practical Assessment" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland was not given to pleasantries. He simply gestured towards a training dummy, a towering wooden figure clad in dented armor. “Test your reflexes,” he commanded, his voice clipped and efficient. “Target the joints. Speed and precision are paramount. A knight’s life is not won with brute strength, but with the ability to anticipate and react.” He watched intently as I lunged, my hand instinctively reaching for the sword hilt. The dummy wobbled, but didn’t fall. “Adequate,” he conceded, his expression remaining impassive. “However, observation is key. Your stance is too rigid. You telegraph your movements. A dragon, young squire, does *not* telegraph its attacks. Let’s begin with the basics.” He turned and walked back towards the stables, the metallic clang of his armour echoing in the twilight. </nc-section> --- Which version would you like me to incorporate into the story, or would you like me to generate some further options?