Run: 2026-07-01-01KWEA9ZVA9DYH46RY0869YYS9

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Knight's Welcome" data-color="red"> As Thunder's hooves clattered onto the cobblestones near the stables, a broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadows of the hayloft. His armor bore the deep crimson insignia of the castle guard, and a scar ran across his weathered cheek like a badge of countless battles. "You must be the new squire," the man said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "I am Sir Roland. I've been expecting you, though I confess I didn't think you'd arrive so late in the day." He extended a calloused hand toward Thunder's reins, studying Frederick with sharp, assessing eyes. "Come now, boy. Dismount. We have much to discuss before the sun fully sets, and even more to do before dawn breaks." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Knight's Welcome" data-color="green"> The stables smelled of hay and leather as Frederick brought Thunder to a slow trot. A tall knight stood near the entrance, polishing his sword with meticulous care, the blade catching the last rays of sunlight. "Ah, you've finally arrived," the knight said without looking up, though a faint smile touched his lips. "Sir Roland, at your service—or rather, you'll soon be at mine, if the rumors of your training prove true." He sheathed his sword and walked toward Frederick with an easy, confident stride. "Word travels fast in these halls. They say you have promise, young squire. Let's see if the stories hold water, shall we?" He gestured toward the stable doors. "First lesson: a good knight always tends to his horse before himself. Come, I'll show you where to settle him for the night." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Knight's Welcome" data-color="blue"> Frederick had barely swung his leg over Thunder's saddle when a hearty laugh echoed across the stable yard. "Careful there! You'll want to land on your feet, not your face, if you hope to survive training here!" Sir Roland strode forward, his chainmail glinting silver in the fading light. Unlike the stern knights of Frederick's imagination, this one wore an easy grin and kind eyes that crinkled at the corners. "Welcome, welcome! I'm Sir Roland, and you, if I'm not mistaken, are the squire everyone's been chattering about." He clapped a friendly hand on Frederick's shoulder as the young man dismounted. "Don't look so nervous, lad. We'll get you settled in, fed, and rested before I start putting you through your paces. That horse of yours—Thunder, is it? Fine name for a fine animal. Let's get him some water and oats, and then you and I shall talk about what lies ahead." </nc-section>