Quafe Poem: A Magical Elixir, Crafted by Gallentean Hands From Temperate Forests to Desert Sands It is Drunk, but Never Finished For when you Drink it Your Brain Cells Replenish
Attila the Bun Poem: A brave little faction named Attila the Bun Nooby and young, not a single war won, Rose out of the turmoil that is New Eden Destined for greatness, with Cal Qever leadin'.
Manticore Poem: Manticores, the predators of space, Cloaked and ready to put you in your place. When one's in system, you'll never feel safe, Unless you negotiate your safety for some quafe.
Cal poem: Well known in Local, he's here every day, Earning his fame in an extraordinary way. Cal is his name, Quafe is his game, No one in jita is quite the same.
Dashboard
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Intel Profile
PlaystyleSolo (0 kills)
Avg Fleet: -
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