- Kill
- 2
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 19
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 0%
- ISK distrutti
- 7.9M
- +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
- 2
- Perdite
- 19
- Indice di pericolo
- 89%
- Colpi finali
- 2
- Punti
- 2
ISK
- Distrutti
- 7.9M
- Persi
- 2.08B
- Bilancio
- -2.08B
- Efficienza ISK
- 0%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 1
- Percentuale solo
- 50%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 2
- Quota perdite NPC
- 11%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti5.5K
Rapporto danni · 5%
Danni subiti111.1K
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
Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
Sonnet XIV - W. Shakespeare
And yet methinks I have Astronomy,
But not to tell of good or evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality;
Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell,
Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind,
Or say with princes if it shall go well
By oft predict that I in heaven find:
But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
And, constant stars, in them I read such art
As truth and beauty shall together thrive,
If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert;
Or else of thee this I prognosticate:
Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.
Sonnet XIV - W. Shakespeare