Run: 2026-09-03-01M1K5ARR30GY0T1ZPCWE1EME0

<nc-section data-title="Version 1 - The Knight's Inspection" data-color="red"> Frederick had barely dismounted at the stables, his legs stiff from the long ride on Thunder, when a tall shadow fell across the straw. Sir Roland, broad-shouldered in a dented breastplate, arms crossed over his tabard, looked him up and down without a smile. "So you're the new squire," he rumbled, his voice like stone on stone. "Stable your horse properly. Groom him, feed him, then report to the yard. We start training at dawn, and I don't suffer latecomers or layabouts." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2 - A Warm Welcome" data-color="green"> The smell of hay and horses filled the air as Frederick led Thunder into the cool shade of the stables. Before he could unsaddle, a hearty laugh rang out. "Welcome, young traveler!" Sir Roland strode forward, steel-grey beard split by a grin, and clasped Frederick firmly by the shoulder. "I am Roland, keeper of this sorry lot of squires. You must be Frederick. Fine horse you've got there. Come, let's get Thunder settled, and then we'll get some supper in you — training can wait till you've eaten." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3 - Omen at the Stables" data-color="blue"> Twilight deepened over the courtyard as Frederick walked Thunder toward the stables, the banners above now still in the evening air. A figure was already waiting in the doorway, half-hidden in shadow. "Frederick," said Sir Roland quietly, as if he had known him long before this meeting. The old knight's eyes lingered not on the boy, but on the stallion, and something like recognition — or fear — crossed his face. "Few ride here on such horses anymore. Come. There is much we must speak of before your training begins." </nc-section>