-1.60Pilota
Lars Zundi
MinmatarSebiestor
- Kill
- 1858
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 95
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 99%
- ISK distrutti
- 464.11B
- +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
- 1858
- Perdite
- 95
- Indice di pericolo
- 93%
- Colpi finali
- 525
- Punti
- 1860
ISK
- Distrutti
- 464.11B
- Persi
- 5.71B
- Bilancio
- +458.41B
- Efficienza ISK
- 99%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 259
- Percentuale solo
- 14%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 7
- Quota perdite NPC
- 7%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti13.4M
Rapporto danni · 95%
Danni subiti720.5K
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
"Rash war and perilous battle, their delight;
And immature, and red with glorious wounds,
Unpeaceful death their choice: deriving thence
A right to feast and drain immortal bowls,
In Odin's hall; whose blazing roof resounds
The genial uproar of those shades who fall
In desperate fight, or by some brave attempt.
All the chosen guests of Odin
Daily ply the trade of war;
From the fields of festal fight
Swift they ride in gleaming arms,
And gaily, at the board of gods,
Quaff the cup of sparkling ale
And eat Ssehrimni's vaunted flesh.
And all day long they there are hack'd and hewn
'Mid dust, and groans, and limbs lopp'd off, and blood;
But all at night return to Odin's hall
Woundless and fresh; such lot is theirs in Heaven."
And immature, and red with glorious wounds,
Unpeaceful death their choice: deriving thence
A right to feast and drain immortal bowls,
In Odin's hall; whose blazing roof resounds
The genial uproar of those shades who fall
In desperate fight, or by some brave attempt.
All the chosen guests of Odin
Daily ply the trade of war;
From the fields of festal fight
Swift they ride in gleaming arms,
And gaily, at the board of gods,
Quaff the cup of sparkling ale
And eat Ssehrimni's vaunted flesh.
And all day long they there are hack'd and hewn
'Mid dust, and groans, and limbs lopp'd off, and blood;
But all at night return to Odin's hall
Woundless and fresh; such lot is theirs in Heaven."