Spear against spear, shield against shield, armor against armor. The perspiration dripping from all the exertion, the saliva drooling from panting mouths, and most prominently, the blood flowing from every cut and thrust. Of course the magic totems would keep everypony from dying or being permanently injured, as they always did, but Artemis couldn't help but picture herself stabbing and slashing with abandon, falling opponent after opponent, slaying entire teams, drowning the battlefield with their vital crimson paint.