1.70Pilota
Bok Solette
GallenteGallente
Corporazione[MMANS] Miner Munitions and Naval SuppliesNessuna alleanza- Kill
- 75
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 181
- +0 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 32%
- ISK distrutti
- 6.68B
- +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
- 75
- Perdite
- 181
- Indice di pericolo
- 99%
- Colpi finali
- 21
- Punti
- 75
ISK
- Distrutti
- 6.68B
- Persi
- 14.30B
- Bilancio
- -7.62B
- Efficienza ISK
- 32%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 6
- Percentuale solo
- 8%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 2
- Quota perdite NPC
- 1%
- Attività
- Inattivo
Danni inflitti11.6M
Rapporto danni · 86%
Danni subiti1.9M
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 a sigh for the lot that darkles,
Not a tear for the friends that sink-,
We'll fall, 'midst the wine-cup's sparkles,
As mute as the wine we drink.
Come, stand to your glasses, steadyl!
'Tis this that the respite buys:
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!
There's a mist on the glass congealing,
'Tis the hurricane's sultry breath;
And thus does the warmth of feeling
Turn ice in the grasp of Death.
But stand to your glasses, steady!
For a moment the vapor flies:
Quaff a cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!
Who dreads to the dust returning?
Who shrinks from the sable shore,
Where the high and haughty yearning
Of the soul can sting no more?
No, stand to your glasses, steady!
The world is a world of lies:
A cup to the dead already-
And hurrah for the next that dies!...
-Composed by Capt. Bartholomew Dowling in India about 1845
Not a tear for the friends that sink-,
We'll fall, 'midst the wine-cup's sparkles,
As mute as the wine we drink.
Come, stand to your glasses, steadyl!
'Tis this that the respite buys:
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!
There's a mist on the glass congealing,
'Tis the hurricane's sultry breath;
And thus does the warmth of feeling
Turn ice in the grasp of Death.
But stand to your glasses, steady!
For a moment the vapor flies:
Quaff a cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!
Who dreads to the dust returning?
Who shrinks from the sable shore,
Where the high and haughty yearning
Of the soul can sting no more?
No, stand to your glasses, steady!
The world is a world of lies:
A cup to the dead already-
And hurrah for the next that dies!...
-Composed by Capt. Bartholomew Dowling in India about 1845