Last ActiveApr 26, 2026
BirthdayAug 27, 2015 (11 years old)
Next BirthdayAug 27, 2027 (306 days)
Combat
Kills57
Losses87
Efficiency40%
Danger Ratio98%
ISK
Destroyed7.30b
Lost4.79b
ISK Efficiency60%
Balance+2.52b
Solo
Solo Kills4
Solo Ratio7%
Final Blows13
Combat Points42
Other
NPC Losses2
NPC Loss Ratio2%
Avg Kills/Day0.01
ActivityInactive
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Bio
YOUR WARLORD HAS RETURNED
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[Personal Log – Jakov Retjar | YC127.05.03 | Vessel: Wrath of Providence]
The void sings tonight. Another patrol, another harvest of souls. Praise be.
I came upon a Minmatar patrol in the Ezzara system — four frigates, barely holding together with scrap and stolen tech. Laughable. I activated the lasers without a word. Their hulls crumpled like paper before the Emperor's righteous fury. I took no prisoners. There is no redemption for their kind, only absolution in death.
I feel the pulse of God in every kill. The light of my turrets cleansing the filth of this galaxy. Every wreckage a testament to the might of Amarr, every burning husk a sermon.
Some within the Empire would call me excessive. Fools. They lack the stomach for true devotion. The heretic, the unbeliever, the disloyal — all must burn. Mercy is heresy.
I dream of a galaxy purged of the faithless. The stars themselves will bow to Holy Amarr. And I — Jakov Retjar, the Hand of Fire — will be the blade that makes it so.
I go now to hunt again. There are whispers of a Gallente supply line near Chaven. The Godless cowards will not see dawn.
For the Emperor. For God. For Purity.
Log End.
/////////////////////////////////////////////////
[Personal Log – Jakov Retjar | YC127.05.03 | Vessel: Wrath of Providence]
The void sings tonight. Another patrol, another harvest of souls. Praise be.
I came upon a Minmatar patrol in the Ezzara system — four frigates, barely holding together with scrap and stolen tech. Laughable. I activated the lasers without a word. Their hulls crumpled like paper before the Emperor's righteous fury. I took no prisoners. There is no redemption for their kind, only absolution in death.
I feel the pulse of God in every kill. The light of my turrets cleansing the filth of this galaxy. Every wreckage a testament to the might of Amarr, every burning husk a sermon.
Some within the Empire would call me excessive. Fools. They lack the stomach for true devotion. The heretic, the unbeliever, the disloyal — all must burn. Mercy is heresy.
I dream of a galaxy purged of the faithless. The stars themselves will bow to Holy Amarr. And I — Jakov Retjar, the Hand of Fire — will be the blade that makes it so.
I go now to hunt again. There are whispers of a Gallente supply line near Chaven. The Godless cowards will not see dawn.
For the Emperor. For God. For Purity.
Log End.
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