- Kill
- 19
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 3
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 99%
- ISK distrutti
- 1.42B
- +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
- 19
- Perdite
- 3
- Indice di pericolo
- 100%
- Colpi finali
- 10
- Punti
- 52
ISK
- Distrutti
- 1.42B
- Persi
- 7.9M
- Bilancio
- +1.41B
- Efficienza ISK
- 99%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 5
- Percentuale solo
- 26%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 0
- Quota perdite NPC
- 0%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti40.8K
Rapporto danni · 95%
Danni subiti2.3K
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
SMILE
Without warning, Cleric's light waxed, bleached the heights of stone. Shadows crawled from the great wolf snouts hanging above. The Nonman turned before the entrance, blasted by illumination. Several raised their hands against the glare. His voice seemed to boom into the surrounding darkness. "Kneel…" The Skin Eaters stared at him dumbstruck, watched as he slumped to his knees. For a heartbeat his eyes glared without focus, then he looked to the Men standing about him, his expression slowly tightening. Pained lines climbed his scalp. "Kneel!" he shrieked. Sarl cackled, though the smile that broke his barbed goatee seemed far from amused. "Cleric. Come now…" "This was the war that broke our back!" the Nonman thundered. "This…This! All the Last Born, sires and sons, gathered beneath the copper banners of Siol and her flint-hearted King. Silverteeth! Our Tyrant-Saviour…" He rolled his head back and laughed. Two lines of white marked the tears that scored his cheeks. "This is our…" The flash of fused teeth. "Our triumph." He shrunk, seemed to huddle into his cupped palms. Great silent sobs wracked him.
Without warning, Cleric's light waxed, bleached the heights of stone. Shadows crawled from the great wolf snouts hanging above. The Nonman turned before the entrance, blasted by illumination. Several raised their hands against the glare. His voice seemed to boom into the surrounding darkness. "Kneel…" The Skin Eaters stared at him dumbstruck, watched as he slumped to his knees. For a heartbeat his eyes glared without focus, then he looked to the Men standing about him, his expression slowly tightening. Pained lines climbed his scalp. "Kneel!" he shrieked. Sarl cackled, though the smile that broke his barbed goatee seemed far from amused. "Cleric. Come now…" "This was the war that broke our back!" the Nonman thundered. "This…This! All the Last Born, sires and sons, gathered beneath the copper banners of Siol and her flint-hearted King. Silverteeth! Our Tyrant-Saviour…" He rolled his head back and laughed. Two lines of white marked the tears that scored his cheeks. "This is our…" The flash of fused teeth. "Our triumph." He shrunk, seemed to huddle into his cupped palms. Great silent sobs wracked him.