- Kill
- 55
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 82
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 38%
- ISK distrutti
- 6.79B
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Attività
- Inattivo
- 0 kill/giorno · ultimi 90 giorni
Scheda di combattimento
Numeri da eve-kill, di tutta la carriera
Combattimento
- Kill
- 55
- Perdite
- 82
- Indice di pericolo
- 90%
- Colpi finali
- 14
- Punti
- 55
ISK
- Distrutti
- 6.79B
- Persi
- 11.03B
- Bilancio
- -4.24B
- Efficienza ISK
- 38%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 4
- Percentuale solo
- 7%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 8
- Quota perdite NPC
- 10%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti898.4K
Rapporto danni · 47%
Danni subiti1.0M
Attività
Cosa vola, dove combatte, le ultime kill e perdite
I più preziosi
Le kill più costose del periodo
Chi incontra
Chi uccide, da chi viene ucciso e cosa perde
Ultimi 90g
Uccisi
Ucciso da
Scafi persiPerdite suddivise per classe di scafo.
Bio in gioco
This is the law of the spaceman, and ever he makes it plane.
Send not your foolish and feeble, send me your strong and your sane.
Strong for the red rage of battle, sane for I harrow them sore.
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core.
Swift as a panther in triumph, fierce as a bear in defeat.
Sired of bulldog parents, steeled in the furnace heat.
Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones
Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons.
Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway.
On my ruthless throne I have ruled alone, for a million years and a day.
Hugging my mighty treasures, waiting for man to come.
Til he came like a turbid torrent, and after him swept the scum.
The pallid pimp of the deadline, the innervate of the pen.
One by one I weeded them out, for all that I sought was men.
Send not your foolish and feeble, send me your strong and your sane.
Strong for the red rage of battle, sane for I harrow them sore.
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core.
Swift as a panther in triumph, fierce as a bear in defeat.
Sired of bulldog parents, steeled in the furnace heat.
Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones
Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons.
Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway.
On my ruthless throne I have ruled alone, for a million years and a day.
Hugging my mighty treasures, waiting for man to come.
Til he came like a turbid torrent, and after him swept the scum.
The pallid pimp of the deadline, the innervate of the pen.
One by one I weeded them out, for all that I sought was men.