Where were you born?
Uncertain. Agriculture backwater in the Empire. There are a few potential candidates, minor uprisings and slave-liberation operations recorded, but sufficiently fragmented and inconclusive that I can never be certain.
What did your parents do, if you know? Were they capsuleers or baseliners?
Faithful and devout slaves in the Empire. No idea if the genetic prerequisites of capsuleerdom were active or merely latent in them.
How old were you when you became a capsuleer?
Unknown. My age is approximated to currently be mid-thirties. Graduation during mid-twenties.
What is your main source of income as a capsuleer?
Currently too complex to cover in entirety, which is fairly common for veteran capsuleers. Over a decade’s career, I’ve earned my way through all the possible paths, including mining, wetwork, industry, bounty hunting, and so forth. Currently working as a mercenary, but the simple fact is that once you’ve come this far you will have accumulated enough assets and wealth, interests and connections that your wealth simply grows all on its own as your assets increase in value and isk devalues. A thousand little streams of income, few and rare expenses and money just… happens.
Do you consider yourself loyal to any particular faction?
I am Mizhara Del’thul. ‘of/from the Isle of Thule’, which is the Gripdjur clan’s name for those adopted from beyond the sea of stars. My loyalties are to my clan, to my tribe, and all my kin still in shackles.
How would you feel if you were told you couldn’t be a capsuleer anymore?
Furious at losing that toolset that could be applied to achieve objectives. Relieved that the unbelievable responsibility unbelievable power demands have been removed from my shoulders. Resigned when I then inevitably pick up a new responsibility and keep going forwards. No rest for the weary nor the wicked in New Eden.
What would you do if you weren’t a capsuleer?
The exact same thing as today, with less assets and tools at my disposal.
Are you generally happy in your day-to-day life?
We soar too high, too far, too fast to be able to pretend the ills and cancers of New Eden aren’t ever-present. We have to intentionally blind ourselves to them if we are to ignore them. I am unwilling to do so, and thus “happy” is out of reach barring a sudden bout of moral and ethical bankruptcy.
I’ll settle for the few happy moments I occasionally find. Better yet, the happy moments I can provide my freed kin. Those are far more important, in the end.
Would you change anything in your life?
If I did, it wouldn’t be my life anymore, would it? Good or ill, successes and failures, joys and wounds, all make my life mine. No, changing any of those would change who and what I am. I know balance. It is sufficient.
Is there anything else you’d like to say that we’ve not covered?
Volur, Terrorist, Scholar of the Accords, of the Shifting Snows, Mercenary, Exile, Pathfinder, Vocalist, Pianist, Gunslinger, Cyborg, Gripdjur, Scrub, Ofridr, take your pick. I am named many things by those who choose to label me. I wonder if any of them will ever encompass that which I am?