Minmatar
Sebiestor
4.85
Ddeathwife
Last Active:
11 days ago
Birthday:
Sep 19, 2006 (18 years old)
Next Birthday:
Sep 19, 2025 (8 days remaining)
Combat Metrics
Kills
16
Losses
118
Efficiency
11.9%
Danger Ratio
11.5%
ISK Metrics
ISK Killed
1.12B ISK
ISK Lost
25.30B ISK
ISK Efficiency
4.2%
ISK Balance
-24,175,322,719 ISK
Solo Activity
Solo Kills
6
Solo Losses
76
Solo Kill Ratio
37.5%
Solo Efficiency
7.3%
Other Metrics
NPC Losses
53
NPC Loss Ratio
44.9
Avg. Kills/Day
0.0
Activity
Medium
Character Biography
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Rattress. Flamebearer. Sister of memory.
Born of desert winds. Baptized in wreckage.
Sister to the archivist known as Save Tibet, Deathwife walks a parallel path—not in search of lost culture, but in defense of what remains. Where he preserves, she purges. Where he uncovers, she cleanses. Together they carry the weight of a forgotten people, but her burden is fire.
A Vherokior of the deep clans, she grew up among the chants and rites of wandering priestesses. From an early age, she saw spirits in the wreckage—echoes of pain, chains, sorrow. Her gift was not memory, but absolution. While her brother hunted knowledge, she hunted demons.
She ratted first in the asteroid belts of lowsec—facing Angel Cartel, Guristas, rogue drones. Later she descended into wormholes, confronting the cold cruelty of Sleepers and the haunted shadows of the Drifters. Her ships are temples of retribution: Widow’s Ember, Chant of Ash, The 8th Vow, Karma by Fire, and In Memory, I Burn. Each kill is logged. Each wreck is marked. Her cargo often contains strange tokens—angel bone shards, sleeper cores, blood-stained books—ritual offerings to the void.
To Deathwife, the rat is not an enemy—it is a curse. Angel Cartel enslaved her ancestors. Rogue drones mock life with their soulless design. Sleepers are echoes of a failed divinity. She offers them only flame. Capsuleers mock her for “just ratting,” but she knows this is holy work. Cleansing. Necessary. Endless.
Those who’ve flown beside her say she chants before each warp. That she speaks to wrecks. That she sometimes leaves behind fragments of tribal music or encrypted eulogies on beacon logs.
She flies solo. She flies with purpose. And though she bears no corp or alliance tag, she bears a name feared by the unclean:
“I am the bride of death. And I am faithful.”
Rattress. Flamebearer. Sister of memory.
Born of desert winds. Baptized in wreckage.
Sister to the archivist known as Save Tibet, Deathwife walks a parallel path—not in search of lost culture, but in defense of what remains. Where he preserves, she purges. Where he uncovers, she cleanses. Together they carry the weight of a forgotten people, but her burden is fire.
A Vherokior of the deep clans, she grew up among the chants and rites of wandering priestesses. From an early age, she saw spirits in the wreckage—echoes of pain, chains, sorrow. Her gift was not memory, but absolution. While her brother hunted knowledge, she hunted demons.
She ratted first in the asteroid belts of lowsec—facing Angel Cartel, Guristas, rogue drones. Later she descended into wormholes, confronting the cold cruelty of Sleepers and the haunted shadows of the Drifters. Her ships are temples of retribution: Widow’s Ember, Chant of Ash, The 8th Vow, Karma by Fire, and In Memory, I Burn. Each kill is logged. Each wreck is marked. Her cargo often contains strange tokens—angel bone shards, sleeper cores, blood-stained books—ritual offerings to the void.
To Deathwife, the rat is not an enemy—it is a curse. Angel Cartel enslaved her ancestors. Rogue drones mock life with their soulless design. Sleepers are echoes of a failed divinity. She offers them only flame. Capsuleers mock her for “just ratting,” but she knows this is holy work. Cleansing. Necessary. Endless.
Those who’ve flown beside her say she chants before each warp. That she speaks to wrecks. That she sometimes leaves behind fragments of tribal music or encrypted eulogies on beacon logs.
She flies solo. She flies with purpose. And though she bears no corp or alliance tag, she bears a name feared by the unclean:
“I am the bride of death. And I am faithful.”