Run: 2026-03-15-01KKS315MC7XPEPHXR5F0TNW6S

<nc-section data-title="The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> I pulled Thunder to a halt at the stables, his flanks heaving and lathered with sweat. Before I could dismount, a figure stepped from the shadows—tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar running from his brow to his jaw like a river of lightning frozen in flesh. "So you're the whelp they sent," the knight said, his voice like gravel grinding under iron boots. Sir Roland. Even I had heard the stories—the Butcher of Thornfield, they called him in whispers. "I expected someone... more." I swallowed hard. "I'm here to serve, sir." His dark eyes narrowed, scanning me the way a hawk examines a mouse. "Serving is dying with your mouth shut, boy. Hope you've made your peace with that." He turned without waiting for a response. "Stable your horse. You have three minutes." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Warm Reception" data-color="green"> "Whoa there, lad! Easy now!" A weathered but kindly face appeared at my stirrup as I brought Thunder to a stop. The man's smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, and his armor—though dented and well-worn—gleamed with the polish of someone who took pride even in imperfection. "Sir Roland?" I asked, sliding from the saddle. "The very same, though I can't imagine why they'd trouble you with my name." He clapped a firm hand on my shoulder, already reaching for Thunder's reins. "Beautiful animal. You ride well—better than I did at your age, and that's no empty praise. Come, let's get your horse settled, and then we'll find you something warm to eat. Training begins at dawn, but tonight, you're a guest." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Silent Guardian" data-color="blue"> The stables were quiet when I arrived—too quiet. Horses shifted in their stalls, but no grooms hurried to greet me, no bustle of evening activity disturbed the stillness. Then I noticed him. Sir Roland stood motionless beside the stable door, arms folded across his chest plate, watching me with an expression I couldn't read. He said nothing as I dismounted. Nothing as I led Thunder toward an empty stall. The silence stretched until it became its own kind of test. Finally, as I turned back to face him, he spoke a single word: "Good." He turned and walked toward the castle, never once looking back to see if I followed. Somehow, I understood that I was meant to. </nc-section>