Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD6Z5V9W5ANYWY0C734WTFD

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> As Frederick dismounted Thunder near the stables, a broad-shouldered figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland, his armor gleaming dully in the fading light, regarded the young squire with hard, appraising eyes. "So you're the new boy," the knight said, his voice like gravel. He circled Frederick slowly, inspecting him the way one might inspect a horse at market. "Thin arms. Soft hands. We'll fix that, or you'll be gone by winter." Frederick straightened his back and met the knight's gaze. "I didn't come here to be comfortable, Sir Roland." The knight's stern expression cracked, just slightly, into something almost like approval. "We shall see, boy. We shall see." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: An Unexpected Kindness" data-color="green"> Frederick was still brushing the dust from his travel-worn cloak when a hearty laugh rang out across the stable yard. "By the gods, you look half-starved and wholly lost!" A knight in well-worn armor strode toward him, hand outstretched. "Sir Roland, at your service. And you must be Frederick—the letters from your uncle spoke highly of you." Relief washed over Frederick as he clasped the knight's calloused hand. Sir Roland clapped him on the shoulder and whistled for a stable boy to tend to Thunder. "Come," Roland said warmly. "The cook owes me a favor, and there's a fire in the great hall with your name on it. Training can wait until dawn—but only until dawn, mind you. After that, I'm afraid I become considerably less charming." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Test in Disguise" data-color="blue"> No one came to greet Frederick at the stables. Only an old man in a tattered gray cloak sat on a hay bale, mending a bridle by lantern light. "Fine animal," the old man muttered, nodding toward Thunder. "Shame his rider left him standing in the cold." Frederick flushed and immediately set to work, loosening the saddle and leading the stallion into a stall. He fetched water and hay, and only when Thunder was settled did he turn back to the stranger. The old man stood now, and he was not old at all—not in the way he moved. He drew back his hood, revealing the scarred face of a knight. "Sir Roland," he said. "Most new squires walk right past me to find the feast hall. You tended your horse first." He smiled faintly. "That's the first lesson, boy. Remember it." </nc-section>