Run: 2026-10-08-01M4DA104DTPAF23EAW472FRFX

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome" data-color="red"> I had barely swung down from Thunder's saddle when a broad-shouldered man in weathered chainmail strode out from the stables, wiping his hands on a rag. His grey beard was trimmed close, and a long scar ran from his left ear to his jaw. He looked me up and down with a critical eye, then broke into a grin. "You must be the new squire. Frederick, is it?" He clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to rock me forward. "I'm Sir Roland. I'll be overseeing your training, so you'd better get used to my face. Your horse looks like he's run half the kingdom to get here. Stable boy! Give this stallion a good rubdown and a bucket of oats." A lanky boy scrambled forward and took Thunder's reins. Sir Roland turned back to me, his voice lowering. "The journey was long, I expect. Tomorrow you'll wish it had been longer, because the real work starts at dawn. But tonight, you'll eat, and you'll sleep. That's an order." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Stable Master's Test" data-color="green"> Sir Roland was waiting for me beside the stable doors, leaning casually against the post with his arms folded. He did not look like a man who had come to welcome anyone. His eyes were sharp and gray, and they moved from my dusty boots to the travel pack on my shoulder before settling on my face. "Frederick of Ashford," he said. "Your letter said you could ride. Let's see if it was true." Before I could answer, he nodded toward Thunder, who was snorting and stamping in the courtyard. "That horse has a temper. Most of the lads would have it cleaned and stalled by now. Show me you can handle him without losing your nerve." I took a breath, stepped forward, and reached for the reins. Thunder tossed his head, but I spoke softly to him, the way my father had taught me, and after a moment he quieted. Sir Roland watched in silence, then gave a short, approving grunt. "Good. Patience is worth more than courage here, boy. Remember that." He pushed away from the post. "Now, come inside. The cook will have something hot for you, and then you'll meet the others." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 1: The Knight Beside the Stables" data-color="blue"> The stables smelled of hay and leather, and as I led Thunder toward them, a figure detached itself from the shadows of the doorway. He was tall and lean, dressed in a plain tunic and a faded cloak, but there was no mistaking the bearing of a knight. A silver emblem gleamed on his chest. "Frederick?" he asked, his voice warm and steady. "I am Sir Roland. I was told to expect you at sunset, and I see the road has not been kind to you." I bowed quickly, suddenly aware of the dust caking my clothes. "Sir Roland, I'm honored to be here." He smiled, a few lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "Honor will come later, once you have earned it. For now, let us see to your horse. He has carried you a long way, and he deserves better than to stand in the yard while we talk." He reached out and rested a hand on Thunder's neck. The stallion, who had been restless all afternoon, let out a long breath and lowered his head, as if he had known this man his whole life. "You have a good companion there," Sir Roland said quietly. "Take care of him, and he will take care of you." </nc-section>