An Alliance

Looks like one of those summer storms. Wild, unpredictable, and hopefully short lived. In a matter of minutes the sky clouds over and then those heavy grey clouds tear at the seams, raindrops pouring down rapidly, a dull roar in the canopy of the forest. Tristan stands at the base of a tree, back in his usual hooded cloak, face shrouded in the shadows of his cowl. If he was moving through the woods, he's stopped for the moment.

Oak shakes his head and glares at the storm, ah, finally, Tristan, he's been walking past this area for a few days and Oak wanted to talk to him. He jumps from the tree and lands on the floor of the forest below without making so much as a single noise, if he had not appeared in FRONT of Tristan, he would have gone unnoticed

Unfortunately, all the squirrel gets in response to his sudden appearance is a slight lifting of Tristan's head, the raising of an eyebrow in curiosity, and, less noticeable, the sudden tightening and then quickly release of his left fist. Of course, for one so stern and silent, this reaction is more than most things would garner. "Good evening." the otter says flatly, not sounding terribly impressed. He doesn't even really try to raise his voice over the sound of the storm and the thrum of the rain.

Oak blinks. "Could 'ye speak up...I can barely here 'ye" he holds out a paw. "Tristan I presume, me name is Oak. I've been tryin' to find 'ye for a few days but 'yer 'ard 'te find" walking a bit closer he speaks up himself. "You've been lookin' fer some slavers as of late, and I've been investigating what I believe to be a faked death. Mayhaps we can be allies of sorts"

Tristan takes the paw slowly, saying, "That depends. Does this faked death have anything to do with my slaver problem?" he assumes it does, of course, and he's not sure why he's referring to it as 'his' slaver problem. He does raise his voice a little, as requested, although the rain is starting to get patchy already, likely going to be gone soon.

Oak shrugs. "Not sure. I've learned enough from Bloodclaw 'te know 'ner to leave out the possibility but I doubt it" he clears his throat. "'Owever I believe that 'de problem of Marek is a more pressing matter 'te attend to. I know 'ow vermin think. Bloodclaw faked 'is death...Marek may 'ave as well. De' only problem is, when Bloody faked 'is death I found 'im...whether dead 'er alive....'dis stoat continues 'te elude me" he pauses, reluctantly speaking. "I need 'elp"

Tristan looks up slightly, the grey of his eyes only a slightly lighter shade than the grey in the storm clouds. "I wasn't aware Marek had faked his death, or that anyone thought he was dead in the first place." he shifts his mind from the slaver problem to the facts of the stoat murderer and arsonist Marek. An interesting case, to be sure.

Oak nods. "Perhaps 'de two cases are connected, but I am not sure. Marek made 'de impression 'dat 'ee was a solo act. But two beasts said 'dey killed 'im. A mouse name Artitor and the miller of Ferravale, Shadowfur. I believe 'dey faked 'is death and them and at least one other vermin beast are workin' fer' Marek. Probably tryin' to take over Ferravale, and Mossflower from 'de inside" he takes a drink from a pouch. "Yer' slaver problem could be a distraction, if so, we are dealin' with one of the most cunning foes in the history 'o Mossflower"

The hooded otter doesn't seem to react as strongly as Oak might like to the news. Tristan studies the boughs of the tree overhead while Oak speaks, looking at him before responding. "If it is, it's a large complicated distraction. Probably more trouble than it's worth." Raindrops splatter off of the brim of his hood and he lets the silence drag for a moment. "No, I don't think they're connected, at least not in any important way." Another pause. "Have you spoken much with these two who claim to have killed Marek? Do you trust them at all? Obviously you haven't seen a body, or any other scrap of evidence to suggest they're telling the truth."

Oak shakes his head. "They claim 'te 'ave buried the body. Every piece of evidence is missin' from the idea....'tis very convenient is it not?" He throws a dagger at it lands deeply into a tree in the distance 40 feet away. "My prowess is notable. Perhaps I can help 'ye with yer case and you can accompany me to Ferravale to investigate mine. It would be worth both our whiles"

Tristan chuckles softly. "No body, no personal effects to suggest he's actually dead. A convenient burial, as you say." he shakes his head. "Marek's not dead. You know that as well as I do." He sighs. "Well, looks like we've got two more people to talk to about Marek. Both of them need to be captured, of course, or at the very least 'interviewed'." he says.

Oak smiles. "Interviewed? I like the sound of that" he cracks his knuckles. "So what do you say for my offer?"

Tristan quirks a brow at Oak's reaction, but doesn't remark on it. "I may require some assistance with this slaver issue in the next few days. Certainly in the next week or so. I'll let you know." he glances around as the summer storm quickly comes to an end. "Hm. Are they still in the village? They haven't fled?"

Oak nods. "Shadowfur is in the village doing his miller duties, but Artitor has dissapeared since his statement. I 'aven't seen 'im since" he starts to walk off. "I will take you up on your offer, meet me in Ferravale tomorrow and I will meet you back here in a few days to investigate 'dese slavers. Do we 'ave a deal?"

Tristan nods simply. "I think so."

Oak shakes Tristan's paw. "Good talkin' to 'ye" he then walks off , scurries up a tree and dissapears into the forest.