Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8VJ86CWE0GYJAT16G65E1E

<nc-section data-title="The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted, the heavy thud of plate armor announced a presence behind me. Sir Roland stood by the stable doors, his face a map of scars and deep-set suspicion. "You're late, boy," he growled, his eyes scanning my dusty riding leathers with obvious disdain. He tossed a heavy bridle toward my chest, his gaze narrowing as I scrambled to catch it. "The horses don't care about your journey, and neither do I. If you want to be a knight, you start by mucking the stalls until your hands bleed." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Mentor's Curiosity" data-color="green"> I had barely smoothed Thunder’s mane when a shadow fell across the straw-strewn floor. Sir Roland stepped from the gloom, removing one heavy gauntlet to reveal a hand calloused by decades of swordplay. He approached the stallion with a gentle grace that surprised me, patting the beast’s neck before turning his intense, piercing eyes toward mine. "A fine mount for a lad of your station," he said softly, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "I see the spark of steel in you, Frederick. Tomorrow, we see if it can be forged into something that won't shatter when the dragons return." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Weight of Duty" data-color="blue"> The air near the stables smelled of damp hay and iron. Sir Roland was already there, sharpening a longsword with rhythmic, metallic scrapes that echoed against the cobblestones. He didn't look up as I approached, but his voice cut through the evening air with the precision of a blade. "Dismount, Frederick. The realm is not a place for idle travelers." He sheathed his sword with a sharp click and turned, fixing me with a gaze that felt heavy with the weight of looming disasters. "You chose this path during a time of shadows. Now, tether your horse and prepare yourself; the training starts before the sun dares to rise." </nc-section>