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While not having a map in the Doldrums is intentional, I figured I turn over a few of my own, drawn version for players to use if they wish.

Hello meatbags. It is I, HK-47. This server looks promising and with some old faces that I remember from the good ol' days, I'm sure I'll enjoy myself here.

Once we were nothing but simple merchants, but now we have grown into our own. We are the force that keeps those adrift in the Doldrums together. We stand together, we fall together. We keep the wheels in motion. <The Operatives> "Company of Mercenaries Proceeding into the Doldrums" In Summary The organization formerly as the Caveat Emptor is one that sets itself upon its own moral ground, one of more than simple trade of commodities. They are now known as The Operatives, a group of highly-skilled mercenaries that work for coin. The political game between the various factions in the Doldrums perhaps might be tougher waters to navigate than the waters themselves. The Operatives exist as a balancing force between the factions, to provide a true medium between all. A Brief History From the moment that Vincent Dumas lost his trading vessel and all the supplies on it, he knew he'd have to crawl back to his position from nothing. Thus he founded the Caveat Emptor, a name which derives from an old family saying. From there, he went on to recruit many of the lost souls on the Doldrums. Those with no true ties to factions, as old hatreds did one no good on the deadly islands. Through blood, sweat, and tears, they rose to their position as they have today. After many struggles at maintaining a headquarters on Silver-Eye, they eventually settled on Opej'Nor, the island that could be considered the hub for those looking to venture out into the wilds for the first time. Founded on the remains of The Dauntless, a ship that had crashed some time ago. Port Sabela was once their home. Since then, the organization fell upon harsher times, in which they sold their port and refounded themselves as a company of skilled and powerful individuals known as The Operatives. What is in store next for them, perhaps you might find yourself part of their ranks. Ranking Structure Our general ranks are as follows; Cognoscenti - The chosen title of the leader of The Operatives, Vincent Dumas. Operator - An advisory and officer role. Those who are extremely skilled and dedicated to advancing the position of the group are given this role. Agent - Longstanding members of the company. Those with specific goals in mind and those who have a vested interest in specific campaigns going on in the Doldrums. Personnel - General mercenaries who take on work for the company. Associate - Interns, new recruits, people who have just washed up, all who seek to prove themselves to the company must go through a short screening process which may involve a display of skill. Recruitment Restrictions The success of The Operatives depends heavily on its effort to effectively utilize the talents of all qualified people. Therefore, The Operatives prohibit employment decisions based on race, color, religion, sex, age, disability, national origin, ancestry, sexual orientation, gender identity, marital status, parental status, veteran status, military discharge status, citizenship status or source of income or any other protected status. All employment decisions are based on individual merit, qualifications and competence as they relate to a particular position.

Foam crawls up the beach, the waves beat against a small boat, the distant fog slowly settling, the skies dark, a robed figure sat silently lets the water carry him towards the dark isle ahead of him. Looking down, almost as if meditating he sits, letting the boat bob from side to side. Then a crash. A creak, the boat is stuck on the beach sands. As it stops, he looks up. His face half covered, he glances over the terrain ahead of him. A dark land, the smell of humid fog, the sea water and death enters his nostrils. He sits unmoving in the boat for a minute, glaring across the new landscape before his head rises slightly as he mutters quietly to himself. "Why have you brought me here, master." his voice is croak. He hasn't spoken for a long time. He stands up and exits his boat, his foot falling into the soggy sand. He begins striding up the beach at a seemingly slow pace. He moves in a distinct direction, up the hill. Looking down, it seems he wouldn't know where he is going, he doesn't explore his surroundings. But he seemingly walks towards a distinct goal. He walks up the beach and reaches a lesser hill. As he steps atop the hill his eyes shoots side to side, shocked by his discovery, strange structures sticking out of the cursed ground before him, his breath gets increasingly heavier, his forehead gets slightly damp, he shakingly walks forward, falling to his knees after a few steps, he's gasping for air, wheezing, he drops his hands on the ground, a single drop of sweat drops from his forehead as he stammers. "My lord.. What is this? Why?" he stares into the cursed ground waiting for an answer. A small wind whistles pass him. His eyes opens and he sits up straight. Looking around the camp before him. "I understand."

yea im here too

Execute Order 66.

salut

Pledged because I like money.