Run: 2026-03-15-01KKS2X60KRCXBFJ76VEV85XCD

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Arrival" data-color="red"> I brought Thunder to a halt at the stables, his flanks heaving from the hard ride. Before I could dismount, a shadow fell across me—tall, broad, and unyielding. "So you're the boy they sent," came a gruff voice. Sir Roland stepped into view, his armor scarred from countless battles, his jaw set like iron. He didn't offer a hand. He didn't smile. "I hope you're not expecting a warm welcome, squire. I've broken better men than you." His eyes, cold as winter steel, raked over me with obvious disdain. "Unsaddle your horse. Stable him properly. You have one chance to prove you're not completely useless." He turned without waiting for a response, his cape snapping behind him like a whip. "Don't keep me waiting." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Arrival" data-color="green"> "Easy there, lad—let the horse walk the last stretch," called a cheerful voice from the stable yard. Sir Roland emerged from the shadows of the barn doors, wiping his hands on a cloth. Despite his reputation as one of the kingdom's finest warriors, there was something almost fatherly about him. His weathered face crinkled into a warm smile. "Frederick, yes? I was told to expect you before sundown, and it looks like you've made it with time to spare." He approached Thunder calmly, offering his hand for the stallion to sniff. "Good horse. You've treated him well on the journey." He clapped me on the shoulder with surprising gentleness. "Come now—let's get Thunder settled, and then I'll show you to your quarters. You'll need your rest. Training begins at dawn, and I won't go easy on you just because it's your first day." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Arrival" data-color="blue"> The stables loomed ahead, their wooden doors open to the evening air. I slid from Thunder's saddle, my legs stiff from the long ride, and was reaching for the reins when I noticed the figure leaning against the fence post. Sir Roland watched me with an unreadable expression. He was younger than I'd expected—not yet forty, with close-cropped hair and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. His sword rested at his hip, worn but clearly well-maintained. "You ride well," he said simply. It wasn't a compliment—just an observation. "Your seat is untrained, but your instincts are decent enough." He pushed off from the post and walked toward me, boots crunching on the gravel. "I'll be your master during your time here. I don't offer second chances, and I don't offer praise. If I say nothing, assume you've done adequately." He glanced at Thunder. "Stable the horse. Find me in the main hall when you're finished." </nc-section>