5.00
- Kill
- 1182
- +37 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Perdite
- 60
- +2 negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Efficienza
- Efficienza ISK 100%
- ISK distrutti
- 4.69T
- +363.39B negli ultimi 90 giorni
- Attività
- Media
- 0,4 kill/giorno · ultimi 90 giorni
Scheda di combattimento
Numeri da eve-kill, di tutta la carriera
Combattimento
- Kill
- 1182
- Perdite
- 60
- Indice di pericolo
- 90%
- Colpi finali
- 60
- Punti
- 943
ISK
- Distrutti
- 4.69T
- Persi
- 7.39B
- Bilancio
- +4.68T
- Efficienza ISK
- 100%
Solo
- Kill in solo
- 13
- Percentuale solo
- 1%
- Kill medie/giorno
- —
Altro
- Perdite contro NPC
- 6
- Quota perdite NPC
- 10%
- Attività
- Media
Danni inflitti52.5M
Rapporto danni · 99%
Danni subiti786.7K
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 Neptune strike ye dead!
Haaaaark! Hark, Triton! Hark!
Bellow, bid our father, the sea king, rise from the depths, full foul in his fury,
black waves teeming with salt-foam, to smother this young mouth with pungent slime…
…to choke ye, engorging your organs till ye turn blue and bloated
with bilge and brine and can scream no more…
only when he,
crowned in cockle shells with slithering tentacled tail and steaming beard,
take up his fell, be-finnèd arm — his coral-tined trident
screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet,
bursting ye, a bulging bladder no more,
but a blasted bloody film now — a nothing
for the Harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon
only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the dread emperor himself…
forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil,
forgotten even to the sea… for any stuff or part of Winslow,
even any scantling of your soul, is Winslow no more, but is now itself
the sea.
Haaaaark! Hark, Triton! Hark!
Bellow, bid our father, the sea king, rise from the depths, full foul in his fury,
black waves teeming with salt-foam, to smother this young mouth with pungent slime…
…to choke ye, engorging your organs till ye turn blue and bloated
with bilge and brine and can scream no more…
only when he,
crowned in cockle shells with slithering tentacled tail and steaming beard,
take up his fell, be-finnèd arm — his coral-tined trident
screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet,
bursting ye, a bulging bladder no more,
but a blasted bloody film now — a nothing
for the Harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon
only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the dread emperor himself…
forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil,
forgotten even to the sea… for any stuff or part of Winslow,
even any scantling of your soul, is Winslow no more, but is now itself
the sea.