EVE Online #HG | Info en #1

#5370 eres hardcore? Eres bienvenido.

#5373 no me he dado por aludido con tu primera frase en absoluto

La idea del juego me ha atraído mucho. Me estoy bajando el trial para ver que tal me desenvuelvo. Ya me pasaré por aquí para ir preguntando dudas, que imagino que tendré bastantes.

#5386 esta al final, "Lore"

la verdad es que cosas que estoy leyendo me estan encantando, el lore que rodea este juego mola muchisimo, los amarr son unos flipaos, los minmatar unas ratas oportunistas, los gallente unos hipocritas y los caldari se flipan xD

La verdad es que recomiendo mucho la lectura, acabo de encontrar un cacho sobre un noble amarr que tiene que vengar la muerte de su padre en manos de un esclavo:

"Khuumak
The palace gleamed from a distance, radiating wealth and opulence. On closer inspection, it didn’t hold up well
in the tropical climate. Starkman Prime’s proximity to the unforgiving Arzad sun meant the heat rarely let up,
and here moisture had caused small cracks all over the walls, with the smell of rotting vegetation permeating
everything. Today, however, with three men cowering on their knees in the open courtyard, the rank smell of
sweat and fear managed to override it temporarily.
Arkon Ardishapur, the royal heir of the Ardishapur family, sat uncomfortably in a chair on a raised platform
before the three cowering figures and frowned in the heat. The insistent buzz of tropical insects made it hard to
concentrate as he let his gaze travel among the Minmatar slaves before him. They were guilty of rebellious
actions and would soon be executed, but Arkon sensed they held some dark, sinister information, and so
hesitated in carrying out their sentence. Arkon glanced at his palace secretary, standing expressionless to one
side. Drupar Maak was a Starkmanir, like the slaves waiting to be executed. He was also a slave, but like many
slave children that showed remarkable talents, had received a proper education in an Amarrian school, which
had trained him to become a loyal, obedient civil servant. Arkon sighed and turned his attention back to the
condemned slaves. They would have to be broken.
It took all of Drupar’s considerable willpower to keep his face impassive as he watched his secret associates
being put through the wringer. Drupar could only admire the slow, deliberate technique of the royal heir as he
questioned the slaves. Arkon had mastered the skill of breaking a person’s will through only words and gestures.
When Drupar had heard of the capture of the three slaves, he hoped for a quick trial and an even quicker
execution. Now, cold dread gripped his bowels as he watched the old fool grilling the quivering slaves before
him. “Old fool, yes,” Drupar thought, “but devilishly cunning at times. Like a dog, he can sniff out conspiracies
where no other man can.” As much as he loathed and hated the man himself, Drupar had long since learned to
respect his master’s abilities.
Arkon absentmindedly fingered his golden scepter as he shifted his enormous bulk from one buttock to the
other. He felt he was finally making headway with these miserable wretches. As he had suspected from the
start, they were only cogs in a much larger organization; an organization aiming to topple Amarrian authority on
the planet. Now, he had only to squeeze the names of the ringleaders out of them.
As the moment when he would be exposed as a treacherous rebel inexorably approached, Drupar felt his pulse
quicken, adrenaline pumping through his veins, heightening his senses. Years of careful planning, hundreds of
fellow slaves and rebels, all were in dire danger of being undone in one fell swoop. The questioning droned on
until Drupar felt himself act—not deliberately, but as if driven by primeval instinct. Rushing towards his master
and nemesis, he grabbed the golden scepter, yanking it out of the Heir’s royal hands. For a split-second he
allowed himself to enjoy the look of shock and disbelief on Arkon’s face before driving the sharp, sun-flaring
edge of the scepter’s head into his master’s neck. Blood sprayed everywhere. Chaos ensued.
Amazingly, the aged Heir, blood spattering from the gaping wound in his neck, managed to rise to his feet, his
obese frame quivering in front of Drupar. A mechanical silver hand shot out of Arkon’s robes and grabbed Drupar
by the neck, and from the corner of his eye Drupar saw guards piling into the courtyard, arms raised. Using
every last ounce of his strength he managed to slip from Arkon’s grasp long enough to shout at the stunned
slaves, still on their knees. “Get out of here! It has begun! Rise! Rise!” he screamed as he was sucked back into
the crushing embrace of the dying heir. As daylight turned to darkness before Drupar’s eyes, he saw the three
youngsters escape in the confusion.
• • •
Strong lights illuminated the courtyard, banishing the night. The unnatural light made the usually serene
courtyard bleak and forbidding, but it fit the mood of the few people there perfectly. Idonis Ardishapur stared at
the faint traces of blood on the cobblestones, musing on how bloodstains always managed to mesmerize people,
making them conjure up all kinds of horrors in their mind’s eye. He listened to one of his lieutenants drone on
about how the uprising in the city was already spreading outside it, and rapidly becoming unmanageable. On his
other side stood the captain of the royal guard, anxiously awaiting the opportunity to make some pitiful excuses
about the death of Idonis’ father. Idonis had already heard enough to know this was inexcusable.
Brusquely, he dismissed the two men, having no patience at the moment to deal with them. Instead, he walked
over to where his friend Zoriac was standing, scrutinizing the golden scepter-turned-murder-weapon. Briefly,
Idonis wondered about the symbolism of his father being killed by an item representing the Emperor’s will. He
would have to reflect upon that during the morning mass. But not now.
Zoriac gave a curt nod as Idonis came up beside him, but Idonis took no notice of it. He and Zoriac, being of the
same age, had been brought up together, and Zoriac was as close a friend as a future Royal Heir could hope to
have. Idonis again regarded the scepter with mixed feelings. On one hand, it was one of the most sacred
symbols of Imperial and Divine authority; and on the other it was covered with his father’s congealed blood.
Idonis knew from reports that some of the rebels were already wielding shoddy replicas as weapons, calling
them Khumaak in honor of his father’s killer. Idonis’ stomach soured at the thought.
Not for the first time this night he reflected on what might have been. He had agreed to accompany his father
here to these savage lands, nurturing some naïve notions that maybe the Word of God could be brought to these
newly-conquered barbarians.. Idonis now knew that the Minmatars would never adopt The Scriptures as their
own, and part of him was glad, fearing for the purity of The Word in the uncouth hands of the Minmatars. And
yet, calling them barbarians was now only a figure of speech. Once familiar with their rich culture, Idonis could
not mock their traditions as he and his friends had done frequently as youths back in the heart of the Empire.
Involuntary, his mind drifted to the little hiding place he had down in the city, to the lithe and winsome creature
he whispered words of passion and affection to during lovemaking. His family and friends would be appalled if
they knew of his dark-skinned Starkmanir girl, with her almond eyes and her smile that was coy and bold at the
same time.
With sudden realization, Idonis knew that that part of his life was over. He was a Royal Heir, now. Already he felt
the weight of a thousand generations of Ardishapurs on his shoulders; the burden of the millions of subjects now
looking to him for support and guidance. The idyllic lifestyle he had enjoyed here on the outskirts of Empire was
gone. Like great stones grinding, he could feel his priorities shift. He felt at once elevated and apprehensive. He
straightened his back and narrowed his gaze. Zoriac, looking at his friend, took half a step back, and Idonis saw
that he understood.
“The other heirs will judge you by your actions over the next few days,” Zoriac said quietly. “A new heir must
prove himself in the eyes of his subjects and his Empire.”
Idonis only nodded.
“You must clean up this mess your father has left,” Zorac continued. “You must send a message that you will be
a strong leader, worthy to be called a Royal Heir.”
“What are the choices?” Idonis replied, already knowing them full well, but wanting to hear them out loud.
“Stamp out this rebellion of course, with any force necessary.”
“That will not suffice,” Idonis answered, sickened by his own words but knowing they must be spoken. “As you
said, I must send a message to the other Heirs. Suppressing rebellions is an everyday occurrence. Avenging the
murder of a Royal Heir is not.”
“What would you have me do?” Zoriac asked.
“Annihilate the Starkmanir tribe.” Idonis paused for a moment and caught his breath, mentally crushing
something deep within himself. “Inform the orbital fleet. Have our people out of the cities and in orbit within a
rotation. This planet will burn as a beacon, to illuminate the galaxy with the strength of House Ardishapur, and the Divinity of our purpose. None shall be spared.”
Idonis looked his friend in the eye as he spoke, seeing the regret there. He knew his own eyes showed the same.
Regret about the life they were to leave, regret about what they had to become, but most of all, regret about
what they were about to do. He allowed himself one more memory of his little hiding place, the long supple
limbs of his Starkmanir lover, and the dreams he had harbored for the Minmatars. Then he let it go. Royal Heirs
could not afford the luxury of dream.
“Time for mass,” he said, turned on his heel, and headed for the chapel."

Tambien esta recogido los metodos de tortura de cada raza, aun no me lo he leido pero promete =D

PD: Jovians FTW !

#5391 murieron? pero si ni nacieron... xD

#5392 eres un puto JUDAS, mandame el nombre de tu keko por priv

#5393 tanta nightmare pa k luego os deis cuenta que ni con 2 capchains soys estables... xD trainead las cosas importantes antes de meteros en battleships coño!
aparte, has arreglao el pc ya o ke?

#5395 lo que queremos es hacerlas juntos mamondri, just 4 teh lulz

puto jooki recordando a todo el mundo que lleva 546423 años en el eve, qué jodío xDDDDDDDDDDD