Run: 2026-10-05-01M46B6M54MCD8FRGQY9F66RVM

<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> I guided Thunder through the gates and toward the stables, where a broad-shouldered knight stood watching a groom wrestle with a broken latch. “You must be Frederick.” He turned, revealing a silver scar along his jaw. “Sir Roland. Welcome to your new home.” I dismounted quickly, caught my heel in the stirrup, and nearly fell into his arms. Roland steadied me without a word. Then he glanced at Thunder. “A fine horse. Tomorrow we’ll discover whether his rider is half as promising.” My face burned, but there was kindness beneath his gruff voice. He took the reins and nodded toward the stable door. “Tonight, see him fed before you find your own supper. That’s your first lesson.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> Near the stables, a knight in a mud-spattered cloak raised a hand. “Easy there, lad. We’ve enough broken gates without your horse helping.” I drew Thunder to a halt and slid from the saddle. “Frederick, sir. I’ve come for—” “Your training. Yes, I gathered that from the sword you’re wearing backward.” I looked down. Behind me, a stable boy snorted. “Sir Roland,” the knight said, offering his hand before I could fumble with the belt. His grip was warm and firm. “Don’t worry. By winter, we’ll have you looking dangerous from at least one direction.” I laughed despite myself. “Now then.” He patted Thunder’s neck. “Let’s get this fellow settled. You can tell me on the way whether you’ve ever mucked out a stall.” </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> Thunder balked at the stable entrance. I leaned forward to soothe him, but his ears remained pinned toward the darkness beyond the open doors. “Don’t force him.” The voice came from beside a stack of hay. A knight stepped into the last light of evening, one hand resting on his sword. “Sir Roland?” I asked. He nodded. “And you’re Frederick. Welcome.” His gaze shifted to Thunder. “Does he usually frighten this easily?” “Never, sir.” For a moment, Roland said nothing. From within the stable came a slow scrape, like iron dragged across stone. Then he took Thunder’s bridle. “Leave your bags on the saddle,” he told me quietly. “And stay beside me.” </nc-section>