Run: 2026-05-22-01KS869C797R5A7KNN5K53H7R3

<nc-section data-title="The Stern Commander" data-color="red"> I pulled back on Thunder's reins, bringing the sweating beast to a halt near the sprawling stone stables. Before I could even swing my leg over the saddle, a gruff voice cut through the evening air. "You're late, boy." Sir Roland stepped out from the shadows of the stable archway. The local knight was a mountain of a man, his armor bearing the scorch marks and deep scratches of a hundred battles. His eyes, hard and unyielding, raked over my travel-worn clothes. "If this is the best the borderlands can send, the dragons will make a quick meal of you. Dismount and brush your horse. Your real work begins at dawn, and I will not suffer laziness in my courtyard." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Gentle Mentor" data-color="green"> The courtyard smelled of sweet hay and damp earth as I guided Thunder toward the open doors of the stables. A tall figure emerged, wiping his hands on a linen cloth. Sir Roland, the veteran knight of the keep, offered a warm, crinkling smile that reached his bright eyes. "Easy now, let the beast catch his breath," he said, his voice a soothing baritone as he patted Thunder's velvet nose. "Welcome to Oakhaven, Frederick. I've heard much about your spirit. Tend to your mount, grab a hot meal from the kitchens, and rest well. Tomorrow, we begin the long work of forging you into a dragon-slayer." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Shadows of the Peaks" data-color="blue"> I led Thunder into the cool, dimly lit stables, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the vaulted stone ceiling. Standing by the armor racks, illuminated by the pale light of a solitary lantern, was Sir Roland. The local knight didn't look like the heroes in the tavern tales; his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight, and his gaze was fixed on the distant, jagged peaks visible through the stable window. He turned slowly as I approached. "So, you are the new blood," he murmured, his voice carrying the chill of the evening wind. "Look upon those peaks, Frederick. That is where your predecessors lie. I am Sir Roland, and I will teach you how to fight, though I cannot promise you will survive." </nc-section>