Run: 2026-06-01-01KT1G89Y15QT915YNNJB8FWPB

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, the castle's most renowned knight, strode toward me with measured steps. His armor gleamed despite the fading light, and a weathered scar traced a line down his cheek. "So, you're the new squire," he said, his voice deep and commanding. He looked Thunder over with an appraising eye. "A fine beast. Let us see if the rider matches the mount." I straightened my back, determined to prove myself worthy. "Frederick, sir. At your service." Sir Roland's stern expression softened, just slightly. "We shall make a knight of you yet, boy. Come, the training begins at dawn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: An Unexpected Greeting" data-color="green"> I had barely tied Thunder to the post when a hearty laugh boomed across the stable yard. A burly man with a russet beard and twinkling eyes approached, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Ah, you must be Frederick!" Sir Roland clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, nearly buckling my knees. "We've been expecting you for days. The roads have been treacherous, no?" "Quite, Sir Roland," I managed, surprised by the warmth of his welcome. I had expected a cold reception, not this jovial knight. "Nonsense with the formalities tonight," he chuckled, leading me toward the keep. "First, we feast. Tomorrow, we sweat. A squire fights better on a full stomach, I always say." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: A Shadow at the Stables" data-color="blue"> A cold mist had begun to settle as I led Thunder into the stables. The air felt heavy, expectant. Then I sensed him before I saw him—a presence in the darkness near the far stall. "You ride well," came a quiet voice. Sir Roland stepped into the lantern light, his face unreadable, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "But riding is the least of what you will need here." I swallowed hard. There was something in his eyes—a warning, perhaps, or a secret he was not yet ready to share. "These are dangerous times, Frederick," he continued, his gaze drifting toward the mountains beyond the walls. "Dragons stir in the north. And you arrive at a strange hour indeed." </nc-section>