Eroket Nightblade swiftly decided he absolutely loved Meridian.
The city was absolutely bustling in the afternoon and beasts of all species and mannerisms crowded the street, looking to sell, buy, hire, and pay off and most any other business practice one could think of. The young ermine could see some of the beasts were fighters, judging from their attire and arms.
Boney was surprisingly quiet rather then pointing out every single site she happened to lay eyes upon, the female ermine hung close to Eroket's side, drawing some glances from various beasts that she answered with one of her dazzling smiles and a demure wave.
"What're we gonna do, Erry?" Her ever cheerful voice piped up behind him, causing the ermine to give a predictable roll of the eyes.
"We are going to find a place to sleep first thing...keep an eye out for an inn, Boneflower...the very first thing we're going to do is get a good meal and then we're going to ask around...and try to keep my surname to a minimum?"
"What, Nightblade?" Boney chirped, sounding confused.
Ero's eyes bulged lightly, the word 'Nightblade' drawing sudden stares and silence from those within earshot, "Err...nothing, nothing..." He smiled disarmingly at those nearby who eventually shrugged and went about their business.
"What'd I do wrong, Erry?"
Eroket turned an exasperated gaze up her, hissing softly, "I doubt my father is a revered figure here considering he left the place unlawfully...Don't mention that name again! Call me Eroket, Ero, Erry, whatever!"
"Ok, Erry!" Boney brightened cheerily, her blue eyes sparkling. She really was incorrigible, Eroket reflected. That may've been the reason it was so difficult to get angry with her. Her charm was certainly no small thing.
Some hours later, after the room had been booked and dinner had been had, Eroket was out on the streets with the promise he'd return to Boneflower later. Plus, it gave the female ermine the time she needed to practice her sword skills...which probably meant Eroket was going to be billed for some furniture or some such.
At night, the streets were much less crowded which was rather fortunate: mostly beasts with connections into the underworld would be out at the time.
Eroket's footpaws padded on the ground as the ermine's amber eyes pierced through the darkness, through the closed shops, to the alleys, to any beast he thought could give him the slightest help.
It was only fortune, and bad fortune at that, the events that followed.
Eroket stopped for a moment, freezing in place as his amber eyes widened as he heard the familiar deep voice of his old trainer and teacher, "Are you certain this place is secure? I can't afford to be seen here, you know that."
The voice that followed it wasn't nearly as hated to Eroket's ears but he recognized and hated it all the same; "Of course, Jald, of course. You must give me more credit then that..."
The ermine's paws tightened on his sword, a growl escaping his throat and it was that growl that caused the heads of both figures to turn and even in the dark, Davrag Joris's grin was discernable, "Well now, what have we here, a witness?" Steel flashed up in his paw, too quick to see except for the glint of the curved blade as Davrag came forward.
Eroket freed his sword from its scabbard and was ready meet the other stoat's attack when Jald's voice snarled, "Enough, both of you!"
The ferocity and weight of Jald's statement caused the battle to end before it even began, both Davrag and Eroket freezing before either could strike a blow.
Eroket's eyes turned from the stoat who sheathed his blade and stepped back, to the larger ferret, his eyes blazing with flames of hatred as he spat the Manticore's name, "Jald Nightson..."
"Eroket Nightblade." Jald answered, his emerald eyes focusing in the dark to focus on his pupil's face.
"I hoped you were dead..." an empty insult from the young ermine, Jald knew. It was just an attempt to anger and provoke him.
"I find it uneasy to rest in my grave when Aleran's ghost still walks among us." Jald replied evenly, not taking his eyes from the young ermine.
"Why are you here?" Eroket snarled, unable to hide his anger and contempt for the older warrior. Jald smiled.
"Same reason you are unless I miss my guess, young Nightblade...we are hunting for Vandashira."
Davrag's superior grin made it difficult for Eroket to keep his cool. The stoat seemed quite content to remain out of the verbal contest and leaned against a wall, golden eyes watching in an amused manner.
"I am...and I don't like competition...why don't we step off this street and into an alley and see who learned the most from Kalis?"
Jald placed a paw on his sword hilt, face impassive. "No."
"Why not?! The Jald I knew would have leaped at the chance to kill me!"
"You are incorrect, Eroket...perhaps it was mere jealousy that Kalis favored you...perhaps it was my old grudge with your father, but I never wanted you dead. I'll make you an offer: We could join forces and take this together...three is much better then two after all.
Eroket saw no need to inform them of Boneflower and he had no intention of joining with either of these creatures. "I'll never join with you, Nightson...you killed Kalis!"
Jald looked taken aback before he gritted his teeth, "I'll regret that for the rest of my life..."
"That won't be too long if I have anything to say about it." Eroket replied coldly prompting a small smile from Jald.
"Either cut me down or leave me be, boy...I have someone to see."
Perhaps it was Jald refused to defend himself or perhaps it was Davrag's cold, eager grin, but Eroket didn't move to attack his one-time mentor and comrade, merely narrowing his eyes resentfully.
Jald nodded. "Thank you...if you seek answers, Eroket Nightblade, I recommend you turn to Meridian's Academy. I recommend you not mention your heritage...neither the Academy nor its masters are friendly to your father or to me."
"Why?" Eroket found himself asking before he could stop himself, curious as he saw the twinge of curiosity on Davrag's face as well.
Jald smiled, "You haven't heard of the Graduation exercise? Maybe it's just as well..."
"Tell me."
Jald sighed, his eyes growing distant, "When you turn seventeen, after seven years of training, you are given a partner and led into a room with one master. There, you are given your weapons and told to fight to the death. If you refuse to fight and your opponent refuses, the master will kill you. My partner then was Aleran.
"We killed the Master instead and fled...as such, we're considered traitors to this city."
"Why tell me?" Eroket queried, "Why shouldn't I turn you in?"
"I know you too well..." Was Jald enigmatic response, "You should head back to wherever it is you stay in Meridian. Like I said, I have to go see someone."
Eroket didn't stop Jald as he turned and left, nor Davrag as the stoat fell into stride alongside his ally, "Jald? Who is it you're going to see?"
Eroket's eyes widened in shock at Jald's final statement: "My mother."
But for all the tension and alertness of the trained killers, not one noticed Terrlin, watching from a nearby alley.
***
Jald Nightson had been born the son of Leira Galla, a beautiful young barmaid, and Richter Nightson, a high ranking officer of the city. Jald had not been a wanted child and when he was five; his mother married the tavern owner's son Kevran.
Jald's stepfather neglected him and Jald's mother had cared about him greatly and her feelings were reciprocated by her son. Jald had last seen her at ten years of age when he had committed himself to the Academy, so many years ago. Jald couldn't even say she still lived but it was worth a chance to see, wasn't it?
Davrag trailing irritably behind him, Jald walked down the path to Kevran's tavern, even after all this time he knew Meridian so well. Some things just stayed with you, no matter the time.
Jald's homecoming was doomed to sorrow.
Jald stepped to the tavern and opened the door, Davrag growling irritably behind him, obviously starting to ask why they were wasting their time before Jald silenced him with such a fierce glare even Davrag Joris backed down.
As the door swung open, Jald could see beasts sitting in the tavern, as well as beasts wearing the tabards and uniforms of Meridian's Royal guard.
"Jald?" The voice was deep, shocked and nostalgic all at once and Jald turned to see Kevran standing at the bar, a young ferret behind him...the ferret had emerald eyes, just like Jald's mother. Kevran looked older and grayer but there was no mistaking that rust red fur or those dark eyes.
"Kevran, where is my-"
Kevran cut him off, his eyes cold and his demeanor grim. "You dare show your face in Meridian again?"
"What are you say-"
"It was so hard on your mother to believe you were a traitor to Meridian...you murdered your master and you fled the Academy?"
"Kevran, that's not the-"
'I don't care!" Kevran growled suddenly, "We knew of your coming...a beast followed you...told us..."
Davrag was inching back into the night licking his lips nervously, perfectly willing to sacrifice Jald if it came to that.
"Is it because...of the blood in my veins?"
"Captain Jast...he's all yours..." Kevran averted his gaze as the guard stood and only then did Jald realize these were fighters from the Academy...almost a score of them and all armed and led by Jast, the weasel Jald remembered so well, there was no mistaking that scarred, one eyed face, the face of the brutal Academy master, the head of the guard of the Academy.
"So I'm to be dragged to Ulrich in shame then?!" Jald snarled, paw on his sword.
"Ulrich no longer heads the Academy...it is High Master Tarl Argith now..." Jast had the faintest hint of a smirk upon his lips.
Well, that was a surprise, certainly...and an ominous one certainly...it was only the knowledge of Kevran and the young ferret-his young half brother without doubt-that kept him from struggling as two guards seized him. Kevran nodded to the child who immediately ran up the stairs, presumably to his room.
"Where is my mother?" Jald replied calmly, Kevran looked away.
"Leira...didn't want to see you."
The façade fell away, replaced by denying shock, "You lie...YOU LIE!!!" Jald began to struggled wildly as several others guards grabbed him, keeping him from escaping.
"WHRE IS SHE?! I WANT TO SEE MY MOTHER!!!!" Jald screamed, thrashing wildly, and he continued thrashing until Jast raised a paw, the nearest spear carrying beast brought his weapon over Jald's skull, hurling him into unconsciousness.
Davrag realized at this point, when two beasts, carrying swords, went for him, it was time to make a getaway, a dagger coming from his belt, hurled through the air into the throat of the first sword carrier, ignoring the shocked cries of the guards Davrag sprang into action, snapping his sword from their sheaths and carving a perfect X over the throat of the second sword carrier, whirling and springing into the night. Ever since he had been an orphan on the streets of Calishan, taught how to survive with his blade and to be the best fighter, to make others fear and respect him on grounds he could kill them as he wished by any means, he had known the value of self preservation.
Jast snarled angrily, "We can't let him escape! Handar, Rikvin, Gulth and Miraj, come with me! The rest'a you lot, clear off those bodies and get that ferret t'the Academy 'fore he wakes up!"
Without waiting for a signal, Jast was racing after the black stoat into the night.
Jast proceeded cautiously, holding his scimitar out in front of him, his ears noting the first scream down an alley, a scream cut off with harsh finality.
No help would come from Meridian's citizens...such sounds were all too common in the great city.
Jast signaled his remaining men, walking cautiously, nodding to a fox, "Rikvin, head on...we'll cover ye..."
Rikvin walked slowly through the shadows and gloom of the back streets, looking around slowly.
There was a blur, a flash of steel and Rikvin's neck seemed to explode, blood pouring from the slashed throat as Rikvin fell, not even comprehending what had slain him. There were three left, Gulth was gone by process of elimination.
Jast's eyes narrowed, "Coward!" He snarled, "C'mon! Face us!"
"I have better things to do with my time...but you are fun to toy with..." The sibilant, cold voice seemed to come from all directions, showing this damned stoat could throw his voice.
Miraj swallowed, turning his back on patch of shadow, a shocked cry turned into a gurgle as Davrag's first sword came out, hamstringing him, the second blade running across his throat, slicing his windpipe and vocal cords, running the blade through the ferret's chest almost as an afterthought.
Stepping disdainfully over the corpse, Davrag smirked, "Praise be to you for sending the other fools off, it'd have been difficult for me to deal with you otherwise...I'm sure that first rat's scream was enough to convince your boys I'm dead. Now, what say we finish this so I can look on saving that idiot Jald?"
Handar licked nervous lips, raising his blade as Jast hefted his scimitar, "We'll take 'im together, you hit his left and I'll take 'is-"
Davrag exploded into action again as the two sprang at him, cutting off Jast's orders as the weasel lacked the words after he saw Davrag's display of athleticism. The black stoat was a blur of shadow, running past the two, springing suddenly and kicking off the wall, hurling into the opposite, swords moving in a sudden silver blur.
Jast looked in shock at Handar, the rat trembling slightly, fear evident on his face and in his eyes, then a line appearing in his belly, the line opening to a cascade of blood and gore, his throat opening as well. Handar was dead before he even hit the ground.
His sword and fur stained with the blood of his victims, Davrag gave a fiendish grin, "I saved you for last...didn't want you to die thinking you ever had a chance against me..."
Jast was nearly trembling. This was a beast beyond him, above his class. With a cry he charged, blade cutting, only to be parried within the dance of steel and silver that was Davrag, the dance of death.
Davrag grinned inwardly and lowered his blades, feigning exhaustion, letting his guard slip and Jast took the chance, swinging at the stoat's neck...only to find his blade connecting with empty air, having overextended his thrust to the spinning Davrag who stood on his right side, affording the stoat a dozen jabs and cuts at his helpless neck and side.
Davrag Joris never needed that many.
The city was absolutely bustling in the afternoon and beasts of all species and mannerisms crowded the street, looking to sell, buy, hire, and pay off and most any other business practice one could think of. The young ermine could see some of the beasts were fighters, judging from their attire and arms.
Boney was surprisingly quiet rather then pointing out every single site she happened to lay eyes upon, the female ermine hung close to Eroket's side, drawing some glances from various beasts that she answered with one of her dazzling smiles and a demure wave.
"What're we gonna do, Erry?" Her ever cheerful voice piped up behind him, causing the ermine to give a predictable roll of the eyes.
"We are going to find a place to sleep first thing...keep an eye out for an inn, Boneflower...the very first thing we're going to do is get a good meal and then we're going to ask around...and try to keep my surname to a minimum?"
"What, Nightblade?" Boney chirped, sounding confused.
Ero's eyes bulged lightly, the word 'Nightblade' drawing sudden stares and silence from those within earshot, "Err...nothing, nothing..." He smiled disarmingly at those nearby who eventually shrugged and went about their business.
"What'd I do wrong, Erry?"
Eroket turned an exasperated gaze up her, hissing softly, "I doubt my father is a revered figure here considering he left the place unlawfully...Don't mention that name again! Call me Eroket, Ero, Erry, whatever!"
"Ok, Erry!" Boney brightened cheerily, her blue eyes sparkling. She really was incorrigible, Eroket reflected. That may've been the reason it was so difficult to get angry with her. Her charm was certainly no small thing.
Some hours later, after the room had been booked and dinner had been had, Eroket was out on the streets with the promise he'd return to Boneflower later. Plus, it gave the female ermine the time she needed to practice her sword skills...which probably meant Eroket was going to be billed for some furniture or some such.
At night, the streets were much less crowded which was rather fortunate: mostly beasts with connections into the underworld would be out at the time.
Eroket's footpaws padded on the ground as the ermine's amber eyes pierced through the darkness, through the closed shops, to the alleys, to any beast he thought could give him the slightest help.
It was only fortune, and bad fortune at that, the events that followed.
Eroket stopped for a moment, freezing in place as his amber eyes widened as he heard the familiar deep voice of his old trainer and teacher, "Are you certain this place is secure? I can't afford to be seen here, you know that."
The voice that followed it wasn't nearly as hated to Eroket's ears but he recognized and hated it all the same; "Of course, Jald, of course. You must give me more credit then that..."
The ermine's paws tightened on his sword, a growl escaping his throat and it was that growl that caused the heads of both figures to turn and even in the dark, Davrag Joris's grin was discernable, "Well now, what have we here, a witness?" Steel flashed up in his paw, too quick to see except for the glint of the curved blade as Davrag came forward.
Eroket freed his sword from its scabbard and was ready meet the other stoat's attack when Jald's voice snarled, "Enough, both of you!"
The ferocity and weight of Jald's statement caused the battle to end before it even began, both Davrag and Eroket freezing before either could strike a blow.
Eroket's eyes turned from the stoat who sheathed his blade and stepped back, to the larger ferret, his eyes blazing with flames of hatred as he spat the Manticore's name, "Jald Nightson..."
"Eroket Nightblade." Jald answered, his emerald eyes focusing in the dark to focus on his pupil's face.
"I hoped you were dead..." an empty insult from the young ermine, Jald knew. It was just an attempt to anger and provoke him.
"I find it uneasy to rest in my grave when Aleran's ghost still walks among us." Jald replied evenly, not taking his eyes from the young ermine.
"Why are you here?" Eroket snarled, unable to hide his anger and contempt for the older warrior. Jald smiled.
"Same reason you are unless I miss my guess, young Nightblade...we are hunting for Vandashira."
Davrag's superior grin made it difficult for Eroket to keep his cool. The stoat seemed quite content to remain out of the verbal contest and leaned against a wall, golden eyes watching in an amused manner.
"I am...and I don't like competition...why don't we step off this street and into an alley and see who learned the most from Kalis?"
Jald placed a paw on his sword hilt, face impassive. "No."
"Why not?! The Jald I knew would have leaped at the chance to kill me!"
"You are incorrect, Eroket...perhaps it was mere jealousy that Kalis favored you...perhaps it was my old grudge with your father, but I never wanted you dead. I'll make you an offer: We could join forces and take this together...three is much better then two after all.
Eroket saw no need to inform them of Boneflower and he had no intention of joining with either of these creatures. "I'll never join with you, Nightson...you killed Kalis!"
Jald looked taken aback before he gritted his teeth, "I'll regret that for the rest of my life..."
"That won't be too long if I have anything to say about it." Eroket replied coldly prompting a small smile from Jald.
"Either cut me down or leave me be, boy...I have someone to see."
Perhaps it was Jald refused to defend himself or perhaps it was Davrag's cold, eager grin, but Eroket didn't move to attack his one-time mentor and comrade, merely narrowing his eyes resentfully.
Jald nodded. "Thank you...if you seek answers, Eroket Nightblade, I recommend you turn to Meridian's Academy. I recommend you not mention your heritage...neither the Academy nor its masters are friendly to your father or to me."
"Why?" Eroket found himself asking before he could stop himself, curious as he saw the twinge of curiosity on Davrag's face as well.
Jald smiled, "You haven't heard of the Graduation exercise? Maybe it's just as well..."
"Tell me."
Jald sighed, his eyes growing distant, "When you turn seventeen, after seven years of training, you are given a partner and led into a room with one master. There, you are given your weapons and told to fight to the death. If you refuse to fight and your opponent refuses, the master will kill you. My partner then was Aleran.
"We killed the Master instead and fled...as such, we're considered traitors to this city."
"Why tell me?" Eroket queried, "Why shouldn't I turn you in?"
"I know you too well..." Was Jald enigmatic response, "You should head back to wherever it is you stay in Meridian. Like I said, I have to go see someone."
Eroket didn't stop Jald as he turned and left, nor Davrag as the stoat fell into stride alongside his ally, "Jald? Who is it you're going to see?"
Eroket's eyes widened in shock at Jald's final statement: "My mother."
But for all the tension and alertness of the trained killers, not one noticed Terrlin, watching from a nearby alley.
***
Jald Nightson had been born the son of Leira Galla, a beautiful young barmaid, and Richter Nightson, a high ranking officer of the city. Jald had not been a wanted child and when he was five; his mother married the tavern owner's son Kevran.
Jald's stepfather neglected him and Jald's mother had cared about him greatly and her feelings were reciprocated by her son. Jald had last seen her at ten years of age when he had committed himself to the Academy, so many years ago. Jald couldn't even say she still lived but it was worth a chance to see, wasn't it?
Davrag trailing irritably behind him, Jald walked down the path to Kevran's tavern, even after all this time he knew Meridian so well. Some things just stayed with you, no matter the time.
Jald's homecoming was doomed to sorrow.
Jald stepped to the tavern and opened the door, Davrag growling irritably behind him, obviously starting to ask why they were wasting their time before Jald silenced him with such a fierce glare even Davrag Joris backed down.
As the door swung open, Jald could see beasts sitting in the tavern, as well as beasts wearing the tabards and uniforms of Meridian's Royal guard.
"Jald?" The voice was deep, shocked and nostalgic all at once and Jald turned to see Kevran standing at the bar, a young ferret behind him...the ferret had emerald eyes, just like Jald's mother. Kevran looked older and grayer but there was no mistaking that rust red fur or those dark eyes.
"Kevran, where is my-"
Kevran cut him off, his eyes cold and his demeanor grim. "You dare show your face in Meridian again?"
"What are you say-"
"It was so hard on your mother to believe you were a traitor to Meridian...you murdered your master and you fled the Academy?"
"Kevran, that's not the-"
'I don't care!" Kevran growled suddenly, "We knew of your coming...a beast followed you...told us..."
Davrag was inching back into the night licking his lips nervously, perfectly willing to sacrifice Jald if it came to that.
"Is it because...of the blood in my veins?"
"Captain Jast...he's all yours..." Kevran averted his gaze as the guard stood and only then did Jald realize these were fighters from the Academy...almost a score of them and all armed and led by Jast, the weasel Jald remembered so well, there was no mistaking that scarred, one eyed face, the face of the brutal Academy master, the head of the guard of the Academy.
"So I'm to be dragged to Ulrich in shame then?!" Jald snarled, paw on his sword.
"Ulrich no longer heads the Academy...it is High Master Tarl Argith now..." Jast had the faintest hint of a smirk upon his lips.
Well, that was a surprise, certainly...and an ominous one certainly...it was only the knowledge of Kevran and the young ferret-his young half brother without doubt-that kept him from struggling as two guards seized him. Kevran nodded to the child who immediately ran up the stairs, presumably to his room.
"Where is my mother?" Jald replied calmly, Kevran looked away.
"Leira...didn't want to see you."
The façade fell away, replaced by denying shock, "You lie...YOU LIE!!!" Jald began to struggled wildly as several others guards grabbed him, keeping him from escaping.
"WHRE IS SHE?! I WANT TO SEE MY MOTHER!!!!" Jald screamed, thrashing wildly, and he continued thrashing until Jast raised a paw, the nearest spear carrying beast brought his weapon over Jald's skull, hurling him into unconsciousness.
Davrag realized at this point, when two beasts, carrying swords, went for him, it was time to make a getaway, a dagger coming from his belt, hurled through the air into the throat of the first sword carrier, ignoring the shocked cries of the guards Davrag sprang into action, snapping his sword from their sheaths and carving a perfect X over the throat of the second sword carrier, whirling and springing into the night. Ever since he had been an orphan on the streets of Calishan, taught how to survive with his blade and to be the best fighter, to make others fear and respect him on grounds he could kill them as he wished by any means, he had known the value of self preservation.
Jast snarled angrily, "We can't let him escape! Handar, Rikvin, Gulth and Miraj, come with me! The rest'a you lot, clear off those bodies and get that ferret t'the Academy 'fore he wakes up!"
Without waiting for a signal, Jast was racing after the black stoat into the night.
Jast proceeded cautiously, holding his scimitar out in front of him, his ears noting the first scream down an alley, a scream cut off with harsh finality.
No help would come from Meridian's citizens...such sounds were all too common in the great city.
Jast signaled his remaining men, walking cautiously, nodding to a fox, "Rikvin, head on...we'll cover ye..."
Rikvin walked slowly through the shadows and gloom of the back streets, looking around slowly.
There was a blur, a flash of steel and Rikvin's neck seemed to explode, blood pouring from the slashed throat as Rikvin fell, not even comprehending what had slain him. There were three left, Gulth was gone by process of elimination.
Jast's eyes narrowed, "Coward!" He snarled, "C'mon! Face us!"
"I have better things to do with my time...but you are fun to toy with..." The sibilant, cold voice seemed to come from all directions, showing this damned stoat could throw his voice.
Miraj swallowed, turning his back on patch of shadow, a shocked cry turned into a gurgle as Davrag's first sword came out, hamstringing him, the second blade running across his throat, slicing his windpipe and vocal cords, running the blade through the ferret's chest almost as an afterthought.
Stepping disdainfully over the corpse, Davrag smirked, "Praise be to you for sending the other fools off, it'd have been difficult for me to deal with you otherwise...I'm sure that first rat's scream was enough to convince your boys I'm dead. Now, what say we finish this so I can look on saving that idiot Jald?"
Handar licked nervous lips, raising his blade as Jast hefted his scimitar, "We'll take 'im together, you hit his left and I'll take 'is-"
Davrag exploded into action again as the two sprang at him, cutting off Jast's orders as the weasel lacked the words after he saw Davrag's display of athleticism. The black stoat was a blur of shadow, running past the two, springing suddenly and kicking off the wall, hurling into the opposite, swords moving in a sudden silver blur.
Jast looked in shock at Handar, the rat trembling slightly, fear evident on his face and in his eyes, then a line appearing in his belly, the line opening to a cascade of blood and gore, his throat opening as well. Handar was dead before he even hit the ground.
His sword and fur stained with the blood of his victims, Davrag gave a fiendish grin, "I saved you for last...didn't want you to die thinking you ever had a chance against me..."
Jast was nearly trembling. This was a beast beyond him, above his class. With a cry he charged, blade cutting, only to be parried within the dance of steel and silver that was Davrag, the dance of death.
Davrag grinned inwardly and lowered his blades, feigning exhaustion, letting his guard slip and Jast took the chance, swinging at the stoat's neck...only to find his blade connecting with empty air, having overextended his thrust to the spinning Davrag who stood on his right side, affording the stoat a dozen jabs and cuts at his helpless neck and side.
Davrag Joris never needed that many.