[@Cottonmouth]

[centre][img]http://orig01.deviantart.net/e4a6/f/2016/083/1/2/ardos_by_fenixking13-d9w8yq4.png[/img][/centre]
[centre][color=6ecff6][b]Artos Bane[/b][/color][/centre]


[color=6ecff6]"You will not survive me a second time."[/color] Artos mumbled.

There was no time for a proper defense so the hooded polar warrior took the only route he could. A thin layer of ice coated his blades laying beneath the snow before the last of the water rushed up from the ground to create a shield. The rocket exploded through the half formed shield with enough force to launch Artos back a dozen feet through the snow to slam into a brick wall, blasting the air from his lungs. His limp body slumped down as the snow resettled around him from the explosions. Kringle had escaped through his bullshit bag and Artos was left with the bitter taste of loss. Granted, he had won and forced his unexpected enemy to flee the field, but the fight replayed in his mind from start to finish. 

[color=6ecff6]"Should have finished it faster. Played around and got caught unaware." [/color]

Artos put his hand to the ground and slowly got to one knee, a soft grunt as he got to his feet. The bouncing grenades had been a game changer, the sheer force of each tiny metal ball was agony across his flesh. Thankfully it felt like nothing was broken, his armor having taken the majority of the blows. The snow was already melting now that the creator of the field was gone but was of little consequence. The ice cold crystal clear water of his homeland was still frozen completely around the area, a quick flexing of his will had the individual shards shatter and float to his call, a chunk of said ice carried the hilts of his swords to their master. Both blades in hand, the ice thawed to water and returned to the canisters on his back, thankfully without dents from the collision. 

Artos stared up into the sky and crossed his arms. It was going to take time to fix his equipment after the oaf had ruined them. Wordlessly Artos retrieved the ruined pauldron and departed the scene of the violence. Already there were people coming to inspect the noise. By the time inspectors came to survey the scene, the winter fighter was long gone. His route was quick and precise, visiting a leather shop to purchase a replacement to his damaged pauldron strap before sewing it back on. When the sun lowered in the sky, the darkness found the wanderer once more at the waterfront staring into the shimmering black surface. 

[color=6ecff6]"Onwards then, to new experiences." [/color]

The river did not flow dangerously as he hopped over the rails. The arctic magic formed and froze a small raft for its master who, after softly landing in the floating raft, lay down upon its cold surface. Tomorrow would be a new day. A new chance at honing his abilities.