- Kill
- 3
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 14
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 36%
- ISK distrutti
- 789.3M
- +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
- 3
- Perdite
- 14
- Indice di pericolo
- 100%
- Colpi finali
- 0
- Punti
- 3
ISK
- Distrutti
- 789.3M
- Persi
- 1.42B
- Bilancio
- -631.3M
- Efficienza ISK
- 36%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 0
- Percentuale solo
- 0%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 0
- Quota perdite NPC
- 0%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti2.2K
Rapporto danni · 1%
Danni subiti169.9K
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
Let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed.
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear.
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear.
All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.
Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir.
Father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed.
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace, whose sounds caress my ear.
But not a word I heard could I relate, the story was quite clear.
All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.
Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, like thoughts inside a dream
Heed the path that led me to that place, yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon, I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June, when movin' through Kashmir.
Father of the four winds, fill my sails, across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face, along the straits of fear.