Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBK64Y672BFADDN9N7Q6NMY

<nc-section data-title="The Iron Welcome" data-color="red"> Frederick reined Thunder in beside the wooden stalls, the beast snorting as the last light of day faded. Before he could dismount, a figure emerged from the gloom of the stable entrance. Sir Roland stood tall, his armor polished to a mirror sheen that caught the dying embers of the sun. His eyes were hard, like flint struck against steel. "You are late," Roland said, his voice a low rumble. "The road is long, but the shadows are longer. Leave your pride at the gate, boy. Here, only blood and iron matter." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Roots of Steel" data-color="green"> The stable yard was quiet, save for the rustle of hay and the distant call of night birds. Frederick tied Thunder to the post, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. A man stepped forward from the treeline bordering the courtyard, his cloak the color of moss. This was Sir Roland. He extended a gauntleted hand, not with the weight of command, but with the steadiness of an oak root. "Welcome to the keep, Frederick," he said softly. "Today you arrive as a squire. Tomorrow, you begin to grow into something greater. The land remembers its protectors." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Shadows of the Stable" data-color="blue"> Twilight had fully claimed the sky, turning the stone walls a deep indigo. Frederick slid from Thunder's back, his boots sinking into the cool earth near the stables. Sir Roland was already there, leaning against a pillar, watching him with a gaze as deep and unreadable as the ocean. "The dragon sleeps," Roland murmured, more to himself than the boy. "And we are the watchmen who keep the dream from becoming a nightmare." He pushed off the wall, the metal of his greaves clinking softly. "Come, Frederick. The night is long, and lessons begin before the sun." </nc-section>