-1.90tyt Rinah
- Created on
- …
- Next Birthday
- …
- Last Active
- …
- Security Status
- -1.90
Combat Record
Career-long numbers from eve-kill
Combat
- Kills
- 2,872
- Losses
- 293
- Efficiency
- 91%
- Danger Ratio
- 93%
ISK
- Destroyed
- 2.16T
- Lost
- 17.58B
- ISK Efficiency
- 99%
- Balance
- +2.14T
Solo
- Solo Kills
- 29
- Solo Ratio
- 1%
- Final Blows
- 122
- Points
- 2,872
Other
- NPC Losses
- 21
- NPC Loss Ratio
- 7%
- Avg Kills/Day
- —
- Activity
- Inactive
Damage
Damage Dealt3.7M
Damage Taken2.7M
Damage Ratio58%
Combat profile
How they fight, with whom and against whom — last 90 days
Activity
What they fly and where they fight
Most Valuable
Matchups
Who they kill, who kills them, what they lose
Top ListsLast 90d
Hulls LostLast 90d
Losses broken down by hull class.
Career
Corporations flown for, most recent first
In-game bio
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.