Run: 2026-02-24-01KJ8VSXBM2XRZMK89TTWYPNWS

Version 1 (red): <nc-section data-title="The Knight's Greeting" data-color="red"> The clatter of hooves on cobblestone echoed in the stable yard as Frederick reined Thunder to a halt. Before the dust could settle, a figure emerged from the deepening shadows of the archway. Sir Roland was a mountain of a man, his plate armor not polished for show but scarred and dulled by use. He did not smile. His gaze, the color of flint, swept over Frederick and his mount with a assessing harshness that felt like a physical blow. "You're late," the knight's voice grated, devoid of welcome. "The sun dips, boy. In my yard, that means you've already wasted a day." Frederick's heart, still pounding from the ride, now hammered against his ribs with a new, sharp fear. </nc-section> Version 2 (green): <nc-section data-title="A Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> Frederick guided his tired horse through the broad castle gates and into the bustling stable yard. The air was rich with the scent of hay, leather, and horses. A man in a worn but well-kept surcoat emblazoned with a golden hawk was waiting, his arms crossed but his expression kind. "Frederick, I presume?" Sir Roland said, his voice warm and steady. He stepped forward and took Thunder's bridle with a practiced hand, giving the beast a gentle pat on the neck. "We've been expecting you. A good ride? No trouble on the road?" The knight's easy demeanor was like a balm, washing away the young squire's travel weariness and filling him with a sudden, buoyant hope. </nc-section> Version 3 (blue): <nc-section data-title="First Meeting" data-color="blue"> The stable yard was a quiet island in the evening calm. Frederick dismounted, his boots crunching on the gravel. As he began to loosen the girth strap, he sensed a presence. Turning, he saw Sir Roland leaning against a timber post, observing him. The knight was older than Frederick had imagined, with lines of experience etched around his eyes and a stillness about him that spoke of deep patience. He wore simple, functional clothes, not armor. "You handle your horse well," Roland remarked, his tone neutral, observational. "A good first sign. Let's get him settled. Then you can tell me of your journey, and I will tell you of your duties." Frederick nodded, the knot of anxiety in his stomach beginning to loosen under the knight's measured gaze. </nc-section>