Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD5WHC1MBWM4Q7BH1843KAK

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Warm Welcome" data-color="red"> As Frederick dismounted near the stables, a broad-shouldered man in polished armor strode toward him, a grin spreading across his weathered face. "You must be Frederick," the knight said, clapping the boy on the shoulder with a gauntleted hand. "I'm Sir Roland, and I'll be watching over your training here. Don't look so nervous, lad—every great knight started exactly where you're standing." Frederick straightened his back and tried to look braver than he felt. "I'm ready to work hard, sir." "That's the spirit!" Sir Roland laughed, taking Thunder's reins and handing them to a stableboy. "Come along then. First rule of the castle: a hungry squire is a useless squire. Let's get you fed before we discuss your duties." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: A Stern Test" data-color="green"> Frederick had barely swung down from Thunder's saddle when a cold voice cut through the stable yard. "You're late." A tall knight emerged from the shadows of the stable doorway, his dark cloak draped over gleaming armor. His eyes narrowed as he looked Frederick up and down, clearly unimpressed. "S-Sir Roland, I presume?" Frederick stammered. "You presume correctly." The knight circled him slowly, like a hawk studying a field mouse. "The road from your village takes two days at most. You took three. A knight who cannot manage his time cannot manage a battlefield." Frederick swallowed hard. "There was a storm, sir. The bridge at Millbrook was washed out." Sir Roland paused, and for a fleeting moment, something that might have been approval flickered in his eyes. "An honest answer. Good. Excuses are worthless, but honesty is the foundation of honor. Stable your horse, boy. Your real training begins at dawn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Mysterious Warning" data-color="blue"> The stable yard was strangely quiet as Frederick led Thunder toward an empty stall. Then, without a sound, a knight appeared beside him—Sir Roland, Frederick realized with a start, recognizing the dragon sigil on his breastplate. "Frederick," the knight said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We must speak quickly, before the others know you've arrived." Frederick's heart quickened. "Sir? Is something wrong?" Sir Roland glanced over his shoulder toward the castle keep. "The old dragon egg in the vaults—it's begun to stir. The court mages pretend nothing is happening, but I can feel it. And your arrival, boy, is no coincidence." He pressed a small iron key into Frederick's palm and closed the boy's fingers around it. "Keep this hidden. When the time comes, you'll know what it's for. Now, compose yourself—young squires should look nervous, not terrified. Smile, and follow me." </nc-section>