The recoil of the ice encasing his blade, killing its motor through lack of air and jammed gears knocked Ragnar onto his back, his head cracking off the floor with a loud THUD. The Marine released his blade, pushing himself slowly to his knees. He started to rise but it was to no avail. Ragnar's head dropped to one side and slowly he rolled forwards, ending out face down, ass up in the hallway, his ice encrusted blade still in his grip.
Flopping onto his side Ragnar lay on his side, his chest rising and falling slowly and his eyes were open. Slowly he uncurled his fingers from Frostfang's hilt.
"H-help me..." Ragnar gulped, one hand shaking slightly before he closed his eyes. "Frábær Russ, horfa yfir syni þínum, veita styrk til að lifa mig, láttu mig deyja í bardaga. Ekki hér. Ekki eins og þetta." The black haired Marine started to repeat, again and again as he slowly faded into unconciousness.