[i][/i][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/chKs6Tf/Drave.jpg[/img][color=8dc73f][h2]Draven Stagnum[/h2][/color][/center]

	His vision swirled about him as he found himself free-falling into a bottomless void.  The emerald hue of fel magic illuminated the wormhole in which he found himself.  Panic slowly began to set in as Draven considered whether or not he has just inadvertently taken a step into eternal purgatory.

	A small comfort, followed by an increasing shock of fear, soon produced within him as he saw an end to the tunnel and a hard, abrupt conclusion to the trip.  Spat out the other end of a psychedelic channel bridging time and space, Draven found himself sitting on his butt outside of an establishment labeled '7th Heaven'.  He gave a laugh in a singular huff before pulling himself to his feet. [color=8dc73f] [i]How appropriate[/i][/color], he thought.

	Dusting off his long coat and staggering toward the establishment's entrance, Draven stepped inside and looked around.  It didn't exactly appear too lively.  Maybe it was early in the evening or maybe this was Draven's lucky day.  In truth, the dark mage was not a fan of crowds.  He made his way to the bar and claimed a stool for himself.

	"[color=8dc73f]Barkeep,[/color]" he shouted generically into the air.  "[color=8dc73f]I want a pint of whatever ale will see me cross-eyed by the time I am done with it,[/color]" he declared to anyone within earshot.  Step 1 would be to calm his nerves.  Step 2 would be to figure how how he got there.  And, finally, Step 3 would be to get back to where he belonged.