Run: 2026-03-15-01KKS33JDSS24YR264QCK4RYG2

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a figure emerged from the shadows. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar running down his left cheek. His armor was dented and worn, telling stories of countless battles. "You must be the new squire," he said, his voice like grinding stones. "I am Sir Roland." I swallowed hard and bowed. "Frederick, my lord. I've come to—" "I know why you've come," he interrupted, eyeing me with suspicion. "Every young fool wants to be a knight. But few have the stomach for it." He stepped closer, and I could smell the ale on his breath. "Tell me, boy. What makes you think you're different?" Before I could answer, Thunder snorted and stamped his hoof. Sir Roland glanced at the stallion, and for a moment, something softened in his weathered face. "Good horse," he muttered. "At least you have some sense. Follow me. We'll see if you last the week." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="green"> The stable master had just taken Thunder's reins when a booming laugh echoed across the courtyard. I turned to see a knight striding toward me, his cloak billowing behind him like a banner of victory. "Ah, so you're young Frederick!" He clasped my shoulder with a heavy gauntleted hand, grinning beneath his neatly trimmed beard. "I am Sir Roland, and I'll be your mentor during your time here." "My lord," I stammered, caught off guard by his warmth. "No need for such formality, lad. We're to be working closely together, after all." He guided me toward the stables, chatting as though we were old friends. "I've heard good things from your village. Your father was a brave man, God rest his soul." I blinked, surprised he knew of my father. Sir Roland seemed to notice my confusion and chuckled. "News travels, Frederick, even to castle walls. Now come, let's get you settled. Supper's soon, and you'll need your strength. Training begins at dawn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="blue"> I led Thunder through the stable gates, the smell of hay and horses filling my nostrils. A man stood by the nearest stall, absently brushing a grey mare. He wore simple leather rather than plate armor, and his brown hair was streaked with grey at the temples. "Frederick?" he asked without looking up. "Yes, my lord." "Sir Roland." He finished a stroke before finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was calm, assessing. "I'm told you can read and write." "I can, sir." "Good. That's more than most squires." He hung the brush on a hook and turned to face me fully. "I'll be honest with you, Frederick. The path to knighthood is long, and not everyone who walks it reaches the end. I won't promise you glory or honor. What I will promise is that if you work hard and keep your wits about you, you'll leave here a better man than when you arrived." He gestured to an empty stall. "Thunder can rest there. Come with me—I'll show you to your quarters." </nc-section>