Run: 2026-09-03-01M1K5B6P88TYV0NGQXM0FXW1Y

<nc-section data-title="Version 1 - The Stern Welcome" data-color="red"> Frederick had barely dismounted from Thunder and was struggling with the saddle strap when a voice cut through the stableyard like steel on stone. "You must be the new squire." Frederick turned to see Sir Roland standing by the stable doors, arms crossed over his broad chest. His armor was dented and practical, his beard streaked with grey, and his eyes were already judging. "I am Sir Roland, keeper of this garrison. We don't coddle squires here, boy. You will tend your own horse, you will muck your own stall, and you will be at the yard before sunrise with a wooden sword in hand. Do you understand?" Frederick swallowed and nodded, his hand still on Thunder's flank for courage. Sir Roland gave a curt nod in return. "Good. Stable your horse. Then report to the barracks. Let's see if you last the week." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2 - A Hearty Welcome" data-color="green"> The smell of hay and horses was so thick Frederick didn't notice the knight approaching until a big, booming laugh startled Thunder. "Well now, that's a fine stallion for a squire! You must be Frederick!" A burly knight with a sun-reddened face and a kindly smile strode from the stables, wiping his hands on a cloth. The crest on his tabard was faded but proud — Sir Roland. "Welcome, lad, welcome! I'm Roland. Don't look so nervous, we're all friends here." He clapped Frederick warmly on the shoulder and took Thunder's reins as if they'd known each other for years. "Come on, let's get this beauty settled. There's fresh water and oats inside, and my wife sent meat pies to the kitchens. You can tell me of your journey while we get him comfortable, eh?" </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3 - A Quiet Greeting" data-color="blue"> Twilight had deepened by the time Frederick led Thunder into the quiet of the stables, the castle walls now long shadows behind him. The stableyard was empty, save for a single knight sitting on an overturned barrel, sharpening a lance by lantern light. He looked up as Frederick approached, his face young but tired, his blue cloak dusty. "Frederick?" he asked softly. "I was told to watch for you." Frederick nodded. The knight set his whetstone aside and stood. "I am Roland." He did not offer a handshake or a salute, only took Thunder's bridle with a gentle hand and stroked the stallion's nose. "You made good time. The roads are not safe after dark, not anymore." He glanced toward the darkening hills beyond the castle, where a strange wind stirred. "Come. We will stall your horse together. There is much to talk about before your training begins." </nc-section>