Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBKSWW4K6Q6BQ3JFQZZCG74

<nc-section data-title="The Iron Greeting" data-color="red"> Frederick guided Thunder into the dimly lit stable yard, the beast's hooves clattering against the cobblestones. Before he could even secure the reins, a figure emerged from the shadows of the tack room. Sir Roland stood tall, his breastplate polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the dying embers of the sunset. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto Frederick’s. "You are the squire?" Roland’s voice was like grinding stone, devoid of warmth but heavy with expectation. He stepped forward, the chainmail of his armor whispering a threat of violence. "I am Roland. Here, we do not tolerate weakness. If you intend to serve the kingdom, you will bleed for it before the sun rises tomorrow." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Stable Hand" data-color="green"> The scent of fresh hay and leather filled Frederick's senses as he tied Thunder to the post near the stables. A gentle clinking of metal drew his attention to the other side of the aisle. Sir Roland was there, not in full battle gear, but in a leather apron, carefully grooming a chestnut mare. He looked up, his face lined with age but softened by a rare smile. "Thunder is a fine beast," Roland said, his voice carrying a melodic calm. He wiped his hands on a rag and extended a calloused palm toward the young squire. "I am Sir Roland. Welcome to the keep, Frederick. The road ahead is long, but we will walk it together. Rest your horse, and then rest yourself." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Twilight Duty" data-color="blue"> As the sky turned a deep indigo, Frederick dismounted near the stable doors, the cool evening air biting at his skin. Sir Roland stood by the entrance, a silhouette against the fading light, leaning heavily on a spear that seemed as old as the castle itself. He did not move as Frederick approached, his expression unreadable in the gloom. "The dragons of old did not wait for the sun to rise," Roland murmured, his voice barely audible over the wind. He finally looked at Frederick, his eyes reflecting the first stars appearing above. "Nor should you. I am Roland. Your training begins now, in the dark." </nc-section>