Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBKTXXXAK5RK1BJW7EQC70N

<nc-section data-title="The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As Frederick dismounted Thunder, the heavy scent of hay and iron hung in the twilight air. Emerging from the shadows of the stable doors, Sir Roland stood like a monolith of steel. His armor gleamed dully in the fading light, and his gaze was sharp enough to cut stone. "You ride well, boy," Roland said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Frederick's chest, "but the road to knighthood is not paved with speed." He extended a gauntleted hand, not for a handshake, but to inspect the squire's posture. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Keeper of the Stables" data-color="green"> Frederick guided his weary stallion toward the wooden stalls, the smell of fresh straw welcoming him home. There, leaning against a post with a relaxed posture, was Sir Roland. Unlike the tales of grim knights, this man wore a soft smile, his eyes crinkling with warmth. "Thunder looks well-fed," Roland noted, stepping forward to stroke the horse's nose. "And I trust you do as well?" He gestured for Frederick to follow him inside, the atmosphere light and hopeful, promising growth rather than hardship. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Watcher in the Twilight" data-color="blue"> The first stars were beginning to prick the violet sky when Frederick reached the stables. Sir Roland waited there, silent as the night itself. His armor was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the moonlight that spilled over the courtyard. "The castle does not sleep, squire," Roland stated, his tone cool and measured. He handed Frederick a lantern, the flame casting long, dancing shadows. "Duty begins where the sun ends. Follow me, and do not stumble." </nc-section>