Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8WRRNWXYJTDW0VQG3APV69

<nc-section data-title="The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, the scent of hay and wet iron filled the air. A towering figure stepped from the shadows, his plate armor clanking with every movement. Sir Roland, his face a map of scars and hardened resolve, peered down at me with eyes as sharp as flint. "You're late, boy," he growled, tossing a heavy leather brush toward my feet. "If you intend to be a squire worth your salt, learn now that horses deserve more respect than laggardly squires. Get to work before the moon hits its zenith." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Lesson in Humility" data-color="green"> I led Thunder into the cool shade of the stables, where the rhythmic chewing of grain provided a steady hum. Sir Roland was already there, meticulously polishing the hilt of his broadsword. He didn't look up when I approached, but his voice echoed in the timbered space. "The path to knighthood isn't paved with glory, Frederick," he said softly, testing the blade's edge against his thumb. "It's paved with sweat, manure, and the patience to serve. Your training begins, not on the field of valor, but right here, under the watchful eyes of these beasts." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Veteran's Gaze" data-color="blue"> "Easy, lad, easy," Sir Roland murmured as he stepped forward to take Thunder’s bridle from my trembling hands. He was a man of few words, his weathered cloak damp with the evening dew. After securing the stallion, he turned his gaze upon me, lingering on the crest of my family’s humble tunic. "You have the look of your father," he remarked, a rare softening in his tone. "He was a man who understood that a knight is only as strong as his mount. If you wish to learn the Way of the Dragon, put your pride in the feed bag and pick up that bucket." </nc-section>