1.10
- Kill
- 461
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 16
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 100%
- ISK distrutti
- 470.69B
- +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
- 461
- Perdite
- 16
- Indice di pericolo
- 100%
- Colpi finali
- 121
- Punti
- 461
ISK
- Distrutti
- 470.69B
- Persi
- 2.27B
- Bilancio
- +468.42B
- Efficienza ISK
- 100%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 33
- Percentuale solo
- 7%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 0
- Quota perdite NPC
- 0%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti467.0K
Rapporto danni · 62%
Danni subiti287.5K
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
Régime de Vivre
I rise at eleven, I dine about two,
I get drunk before seven; and the next thing I do,
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap,
I spend in her hand, and I spew in her lap.
Then we quarrel and scold, 'till I fall fast asleep,
When the bitch, growing bold, to my pocket does creep;
Then slyly she leaves me, and, to revenge the affront,
At once she bereaves me of money and cunt.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and drunk,
What a coil do I make for the loss of my punk!
I storm and I roar, and I fall in a rage,
And missing my whore, I bugger my page.
Then, crop-sick all morning, I rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yawning 'till eleven again.
-- John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester
[09:32:01] arbalesttom > 'we where in m-o, somewhere on the edge of tribute, when the drugs began to take hold'....
I rise at eleven, I dine about two,
I get drunk before seven; and the next thing I do,
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap,
I spend in her hand, and I spew in her lap.
Then we quarrel and scold, 'till I fall fast asleep,
When the bitch, growing bold, to my pocket does creep;
Then slyly she leaves me, and, to revenge the affront,
At once she bereaves me of money and cunt.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and drunk,
What a coil do I make for the loss of my punk!
I storm and I roar, and I fall in a rage,
And missing my whore, I bugger my page.
Then, crop-sick all morning, I rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yawning 'till eleven again.
-- John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester
[09:32:01] arbalesttom > 'we where in m-o, somewhere on the edge of tribute, when the drugs began to take hold'....