Run: 2026-03-11-01KKFKVHPQCDY606AT80V9GSM4

<nc-section data-title="Sir Roland's Welcome" data-color="red"> A figure emerged from the long shadows of the stables, armor catching the last of the day's light. Sir Roland was not the welcoming sort Frederick had imagined. His face was a landscape of old scars, his expression as stern and weathered as the castle stone. "You're the new squire," he stated, not as a question but as a verdict. He gave Thunder a critical once-over before his cold, gray eyes settled on Frederick. "The stable master will see to your horse. You'll report to the armory at first light. Don't be late." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Knight of the Green Vale" data-color="green"> As Frederick dismounted, a man with a kind, sun-weathered face approached from the stable yard, a wisp of hay in his hair. "Master Frederick, I presume?" he said, his voice warm. "I am Sir Roland. Welcome to Dragon's Keep." He gave a gentle pat to Thunder’s neck, the horse nickering in response. "The countryside here is lush, but the duties can be thorny. I trust your journey was a pleasant one through the green valleys?" His smile was genuine, his eyes holding the easy confidence of a seasoned protector. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Shadowed Greeting" data-color="blue"> The twilight was deepening into a bruised purple as a knight stepped out from the cool gloom of the stable entrance. Sir Roland’s silhouette was sharp against the fading light, his posture weary. He said nothing at first, simply regarding Frederick and his steed with a distant, thoughtful gaze, as if seeing through them to some memory. A profound quiet hung in the air, broken only by the horse's soft snort. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and tinged with a familiar sadness. "You're here, then. The stable boys will tend to your mount. Come. The hour grows late, and there is much that shadows the Keep." </nc-section>