22 Members
Burn the Jolly Roger. [BTJR.]
Combat Metrics
Kills
433
Losses
1,249
Efficiency
25.7%
Danger Ratio
24.1%
ISK Metrics
ISK Killed
207.46B ISK
ISK Lost
84.91B ISK
ISK Efficiency
71.0%
ISK Balance
122.55B ISK
Solo Activity
Solo Kills
17
Solo Losses
397
Solo Kill Ratio
3.9%
Solo Efficiency
4.1%
Other Metrics
NPC Losses
46
NPC Loss Ratio
3.7
Avg. Kills/Day
0.1
Activity
Very High
Character Biography
BURN THE JOLLY ROGER
To the mast - burn their flag! - it is dark as the hearse
And the death which it bears as it sweeps through the 'verse;
Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;
Be the warp scramblers honed, and the stasis webs bared:
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
for the last of my duties, the booster can key.
It will burn where we find it, the black flag - rough shod;
Their escape we'll deny them, we'll take every pod.
Unshared have they left their last victory's prey;
It is ours to return it, and theirs to obey:
There are shawls that might suit a Amarr's white neck,
and pearls that are fair as the arms they did deck.
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine
'tis to drink to a victory - the death of a swine.
Some fight, 'tis for riches - some fight, but for greed:
The first we despise, and the last we make bleed.
We fight, 'tis for justice! We love to see flow,
at the end of our weapons, the ships of our foe.
We strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
We only shed blood where another sheds tears,
We come, as the lightning comes, swift from above,
through the Pirates we loathe, to the battle we love.
To the mast - burn their flag! - it is dark as the hearse
And the death which it bears as it sweeps through the 'verse;
Let our decks clear for action, our guns be prepared;
Be the warp scramblers honed, and the stasis webs bared:
Set the canisters ready, and then bring to me,
for the last of my duties, the booster can key.
It will burn where we find it, the black flag - rough shod;
Their escape we'll deny them, we'll take every pod.
Unshared have they left their last victory's prey;
It is ours to return it, and theirs to obey:
There are shawls that might suit a Amarr's white neck,
and pearls that are fair as the arms they did deck.
There are flasks which, unseal them, the air will disclose
Diametta's fair summers, the home of the rose.
I claim not a portion: I ask but as mine
'tis to drink to a victory - the death of a swine.
Some fight, 'tis for riches - some fight, but for greed:
The first we despise, and the last we make bleed.
We fight, 'tis for justice! We love to see flow,
at the end of our weapons, the ships of our foe.
We strike for the memory of long-vanished years;
We only shed blood where another sheds tears,
We come, as the lightning comes, swift from above,
through the Pirates we loathe, to the battle we love.