- Kills
- 16
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Losses
- 18
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Efficiency
- ISK Efficiency 33%
- ISK destroyed
- 2.58B
- +0 in the last 90 days
- Activity
- Inactive
- 0 kills/day · last 90 days
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 16
- Losses
- 18
- Danger Ratio
- 100%
- Final Blows
- 4
- Points
- 16
ISK
- Destroyed
- 2.58B
- Lost
- 5.34B
- Balance
- -2.75B
- ISK Efficiency
- 33%
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 2
- Solo Ratio
- 13%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
Other
- NPC Losses
- 0
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 0%
- Activity
- Inactive
Damage Dealt517.5K
Damage Ratio · 48%
Damage Taken552.3K
Activity
What they fly, where they fight, latest kills and losses
Most Valuable
The priciest kills in the window
Matchups
Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose
Last 90d
Killed
Killed By
Hulls LostLosses broken down by hull class.
In-game bio
"Savage Daughter" by Wyndreth Beringsdottir. While I have a few outstanding and at times savage daughters in my life, this is mostly dedicated to my Icelandic niece.
---
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child is a savage;
she looks for her omens,
in the colours of stones,
In the faces of cats,
In the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire,
in the curve of old bones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child dances in darkness,
and sings heathen songs
by the light of the moon,
and watches the stars,
and renames the planets,
and dreams she can reach them,
with a song and a broom.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child curses,
too loud and too often.
My mother's child laughs,
too hard and too long.
And howls at the moon
and sleeps in ditches
and clumsily raises her voice in this song.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
Now we are all brought forth;
out of darkness and water,
brought into this world
through blood and through pain.
And deep in our bones;
the old songs are waking,
so sing them with voices
of thunder and rain.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our voice.
---
Stay savage.
Stay awesome.
---
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child is a savage;
she looks for her omens,
in the colours of stones,
In the faces of cats,
In the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire,
in the curve of old bones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child dances in darkness,
and sings heathen songs
by the light of the moon,
and watches the stars,
and renames the planets,
and dreams she can reach them,
with a song and a broom.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child curses,
too loud and too often.
My mother's child laughs,
too hard and too long.
And howls at the moon
and sleeps in ditches
and clumsily raises her voice in this song.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
Now we are all brought forth;
out of darkness and water,
brought into this world
through blood and through pain.
And deep in our bones;
the old songs are waking,
so sing them with voices
of thunder and rain.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our voice.
---
Stay savage.
Stay awesome.