-3.57
Burnheart Reynard
Jun 15, 2013
Jan 1, 1970(56y)
Jan 1, 2027(157d)
Combat
Kills372
Losses113
Efficiency77%
ISK
Destroyed25.19b
Lost4.98b
ISK Eff.83%
Solo
Solo Kills66
Solo Ratio18%
Final Blows99
Points372
Other
NPC Losses4
NPC Loss Ratio4%
Avg Kills/Day0.02
ActivityInactive
Minmatar
Sebiestor
-3.57
Burnheart Reynard
Last Active
Jun 15, 2013
Birthday
Jan 1, 1970 (56 years old)
Next Birthday
Jan 1, 2027 (157 days)
Combat
Kills372
Losses113
Efficiency77%
Danger Ratio96%
ISK
Destroyed25.19b
Lost4.98b
ISK Efficiency83%
Balance+20.21b
Solo
Solo Kills66
Solo Ratio18%
Final Blows99
Points372
Other
NPC Losses4
NPC Loss Ratio4%
Avg Kills/Day0.02
ActivityInactive
Nothing in the last 7d
Bio
Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green.
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers' Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers' Green.
Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he's emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers' Green.
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.
Dashboard
Stats
No activity in the last 90d
Last seen Jun 2013
Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -