- Kill
- 16
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 18
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 33%
- ISK distrutti
- 2.58B
- +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
- 16
- Perdite
- 18
- Indice di pericolo
- 100%
- Colpi finali
- 4
- Punti
- 16
ISK
- Distrutti
- 2.58B
- Persi
- 5.34B
- Bilancio
- -2.75B
- Efficienza ISK
- 33%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 2
- Percentuale solo
- 13%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 0
- Quota perdite NPC
- 0%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti517.5K
Rapporto danni · 48%
Danni subiti552.3K
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
"Savage Daughter" by Wyndreth Beringsdottir. While I have a few outstanding and at times savage daughters in my life, this is mostly dedicated to my Icelandic niece.
---
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child is a savage;
she looks for her omens,
in the colours of stones,
In the faces of cats,
In the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire,
in the curve of old bones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child dances in darkness,
and sings heathen songs
by the light of the moon,
and watches the stars,
and renames the planets,
and dreams she can reach them,
with a song and a broom.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child curses,
too loud and too often.
My mother's child laughs,
too hard and too long.
And howls at the moon
and sleeps in ditches
and clumsily raises her voice in this song.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
Now we are all brought forth;
out of darkness and water,
brought into this world
through blood and through pain.
And deep in our bones;
the old songs are waking,
so sing them with voices
of thunder and rain.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our voice.
---
Stay savage.
Stay awesome.
---
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child is a savage;
she looks for her omens,
in the colours of stones,
In the faces of cats,
In the fall of feathers,
In the dancing of fire,
in the curve of old bones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child dances in darkness,
and sings heathen songs
by the light of the moon,
and watches the stars,
and renames the planets,
and dreams she can reach them,
with a song and a broom.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
My mother's child curses,
too loud and too often.
My mother's child laughs,
too hard and too long.
And howls at the moon
and sleeps in ditches
and clumsily raises her voice in this song.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
The one who runs barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
I am my mother's savage daughter.
I will not cut my hair.
I will not lower my voice.
Now we are all brought forth;
out of darkness and water,
brought into this world
through blood and through pain.
And deep in our bones;
the old songs are waking,
so sing them with voices
of thunder and rain.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our...
We are our mother's savage daughters.
The ones who run barefoot,
cursing sharp stones.
We are our mother's savage daughters.
We will not cut our hair.
We will not lower our voice.
---
Stay savage.
Stay awesome.