[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]

Artos felt both blades grind across the impossibly hard surface of the strangers armor and had to suppress the urge to cry foul play. Again and again every slash and every thrust met the armors surface and didn't even leave a trace of its passing.
The logical mind of the frozen warrior couldn't begin to fathom the strength of this strangers magic. All that was clear now was Felix possessed powerful protection but that glimmer of hope had him questioning the offensive potential of this knights power. The thought was answer when Felix brought a blade into play and swiped at Artos's legs. Sheer instinct had the nimble warrior in the air with both legs tucked in to avoid potentially being cut down then and there. 
The sound of the blades swipe was the only tell. The fighter had blunted his weapon? A mockery unlike anything Artos had ever experienced. Raised in this subzero climate it had been beaten into the core of his being that anger would lead to his death every time. Calm and cold as their homeland the warriors embraced their anger and turned it into power. 

Artos' rage burned with a heat unlike anything that he had felt before in his life. Already weakened from the ordeal with Kringle, exhausted and bruised, all thoughts of his pain were burned away in the searing intensity of his concentrated humiliation.
The winds atop the frozen river moaned a baneful tune to match its champion as he brought every lesson he'd ever been taught into play. Brilliant uses of the terrain, blasts of freezing wind and walls of ice broke vision and gave opportunities to ambush from every angle. His blades snapped together into the double ended polearm, Artos struck from every and any angle. Every failed attempt only burned his fury brighter as his body was pushed beyond its capabilities. Stubborn pride demanded one of these two be a victor. It would be Artos!

Jets of icy water exploded around their frozen platform, following the mana rich demands of this white lands champion to flow at this armored menace with the intent to freeze him solid, inside and out. The faceguard was the only vulnerable spit! 
The waters nearly reached their target, tantalizingly close, but the sensation of falling overtook his senses. The clatter of steel.. Both of Artos' hands refused to move as he fell to his knees in the water drenched ice. His breathe was unsteady and both eyes unfocused. 

Artos managed to get a single glance of the armored man before finally slumping over in the snow. The last thing the prideful swordsman felt was that very same pride shatter under the weight of his failure.