<strong>Dalen Black, Human Trickster</strong><br/><br/>Inhaling sharply and sitting up from where he lay, Dalen was panting and shuddering, a feeling of nausea creeping up his stomach as he tried to calm himself down. He had been killed, stabbed in the face for something he had not even planned to do. His instincts had saved his life on several occasions, but this time they had not been enough. If not for the offer to return, he would have seen the last page of his tale already. White-hot anger burned in him at that thought, he was nowhere near ready to go into the night, if anything he wanted to live a long time still. If he got his hands on his 'former captain' he would be making sure the man would not appreciate seeing Dalen alive.<br/><br/>His eyes rose and he saw the figures of two women he had desired to behold in the state of undress before, but he found little of that stirring in him right now. Too many other things came to mind, including explanation and cold fury of the betrayal he had to endure, the false accusations that lead to them.<strong>"Normally I would quite enjoy a sight like this. Its because that psychotic bastard that we are once-dead now, though I am glad it seems we made like a cat and jumped right into the next one. Now, vengeance."</strong>He growled at this, pushing himself to his feet.<br/><br/>His body had changed slightly, small cuts that left lasting if perhaps not permanent marks on his skin had faded off entirely, little details that annoyed him about his form before seemed to have smoothed out. His body had taken an elvish smoothness to it, though his hands still maintained a touch of roughness to them, the reminder of what work would do to one's hands over time. Deception was his tool but he had been through enough to make due with physical labor when need be.<strong>"I gather the cap'n didn't like the future he heard was awaiting him. I'd be curious to hear what he was told to set him off that barking mad! He laid down accusations that sounded like he's the one taking vengeance on us, not the other way around. Well, if ever there was a self-fulfilling prophecy he's put one in motion now. I had no reason to take it personally with the man, but now I'll be sure to pay him a visit sometime and express my displeasure. Maybe in a cordial letter, written in his blood with his fingerbone."</strong>He growled at this, glad to be alive and yet angered beyond reason by the thoughts of having been killed for something he had not done in the first place, and second, for having been stabbed in the face. In the face! He needed his face, it was essential to have the looks to distract a mark to make them part with their coin like a fool.