Run: 2026-05-10-01KR8ZPERGN8YC0C2ZW12E7ZT5

<nc-section data-title="The Stern Greeting" data-color="red"> As I brought Thunder to a halt near the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows of the stone archway. Sir Roland stood with his arms crossed over a chest plate that had seen decades of battle, his gaze as sharp as the blade at his hip. He didn't smile. "You're late, boy," he barked, his voice like grinding gravel. "The sun is already dipping below the horizon, and a squire who cannot master his own schedule will never master a sword. Dismount. Now." I scrambled off the horse, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was not the warm welcome I had imagined; it was a challenge. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> As I guided Thunder toward the stables, a hearty laugh echoed through the courtyard. A man with a well-trimmed beard and eyes that twinkled with kindness stepped forward, his crimson cloak billowing behind him. This was Sir Roland. "Welcome, Frederick!" he exclaimed, reaching out to clap me firmly on the shoulder. "Thunder is a magnificent beast—you've a keen eye for horses. Come, leave the gear to the grooms. You must be famished after your journey, and the kitchens have just pulled the roast from the fire. We shall talk of your training once you've had a proper meal." For the first time since leaving home, the knot of anxiety in my stomach began to loosen. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="The Eccentric Introduction" data-color="blue"> I had barely brought Thunder to a stop before I noticed a man perched precariously atop a hay bale, intently polishing a piece of armor that looked far too ornate for daily use. He didn't look up as I approached, instead humming a tuneless melody to himself. "The alignment of the stars suggests a clumsy arrival," he murmured, finally glancing at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I presume you are Frederick? I am Sir Roland. I've spent the last hour wondering if you'd get lost in the woods or be eaten by a stray wolf. Since you're here, I suppose we can begin. Tell me, boy—do you believe in dragons, or only in the stories we tell children to keep them in bed?" I stared at him, completely bewildered, wondering if this was the man who was supposed to teach me the art of war. </nc-section>