Run: 2026-10-13-01M4TC57T0B05XC1H10J7JGY7Y

<nc-section data-title="Version 1: A Warm Welcome" data-color="red"> Frederick had barely swung down from Thunder's saddle by the stables when a broad-shouldered knight in polished steel strode toward him, his red cloak billowing behind him. "You must be Frederick," the knight said, extending a gauntleted hand with a warm, easy smile. "I am Sir Roland. Word of your arrival reached us at noon, and I have been watching the road for you since." Frederick fumbled with the reins, then clasped the offered hand. "It is an honor, Sir Roland. I hope I have not kept you waiting." "Not at all, lad." Roland glanced approvingly at Thunder, patting the stallion's neck. "A fine horse, and well cared for. That tells me much about a squire before he ever lifts a sword. Come — let us get him fed and settled, and then I will show you to your quarters. Your training begins at dawn." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2: The Stern Knight" data-color="green"> The stable yard was thick with the smell of hay and horses when Frederick dismounted, his legs stiff from the long ride. He did not notice the tall knight leaning against the stable door until the man spoke. "You're late, squire." Frederick turned sharply. The knight's armor was scarred and unadorned, his grey eyes cold as he looked Frederick — and then Thunder — up and down. "Sir Roland?" Frederick asked, bowing. "Forgive me, the road through the marsh—" "Excuses are the first thing we will beat out of you," Roland interrupted, pushing himself upright. He circled Thunder once, checking the horse's hooves and saddle with practiced hands. "At least you can care for a horse. That is something. Feed him, brush him down, and muck out his stall. Then report to me in the yard. If you want to train under me, you will learn to serve before you learn to fight." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3: A Quiet Warning" data-color="blue"> Twilight had settled over the stable yard when Frederick led Thunder into the shadows of the castle wall. A figure stepped from beside the water trough, moving so quietly that Frederick's hand flew to his belt before he saw the knight's crest. "Easy, Frederick," the man said softly. "I am Sir Roland, and I meant you no fright — though you would do well to keep that quick hand. These are uneasy times." Roland's face was grave in the fading light, and his gaze drifted beyond the castle walls, toward the dark peaks on the horizon. "You have come to learn sword and shield," he continued, lowering his voice, "but there are older things stirring in these lands than war between men. Settle your horse quickly, and keep what I tell you next to yourself. Your training, I fear, may be tested far sooner than any of us would wish." </nc-section>