Last ActiveMar 8, 2011
BirthdayJan 1, 1970 (56 years old)
Next BirthdayJan 1, 2027 (52 days)
Combat
Kills0
Losses2
Efficiency0%
Danger Ratio100%
ISK
Destroyed0
Lost339.32m
ISK Efficiency0%
Balance-339320045
Solo
Solo Kills0
Solo Ratio0%
Final Blows0
Combat Points0
Other
NPC Losses0
NPC Loss Ratio0%
Avg Kills/Day0.00
ActivityInactive
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Bio
O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, --
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue --
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of EVE;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use
And dreadful objects so familiar
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Friedrich's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Antigone by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the parrots of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.
- Adapted from Julius Caesar, Act III Scene I
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers!
Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Over thy wounds now do I prophesy, --
Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips,
To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue --
A curse shall light upon the limbs of men;
Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of EVE;
Blood and destruction shall be so in use
And dreadful objects so familiar
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war;
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds:
And Friedrich's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Antigone by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the parrots of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.
- Adapted from Julius Caesar, Act III Scene I
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