The miserable rage catapult wanted to charge its rage and demanded it go forth and shatter the grass pixie invaders branch wheels to paint itself green with their flesh and blood. But the misery in it pointed out the flaw in such a plan that it would be overwhelmed and destroyed. There was no doubt it could destroy the lesser soldiers of the invaders, but the magic of the invaders had long been a problem, and they would not use that to destroy him should he charge blindly.

So instead he would play it safe no matter how much it enraged him to do so. He would have those that can still retreat do so, but those that have been crippled and can't keep up become a rear guard to hold the pixies advance. Once the rear guard is destroyed and the pixies advance, they will do so under a sad and grass catapult barrage.

He'll just keep repeating this tactic, relying on reinforcements from the catapult workshop to keep their numbers up. He would do this until he reached the back line, as he had no plans of moving from his current spot. When that occurs, he will charge forth, filled with hatred for those that slayed so many of his kin.

"Yes, this plan will do for now; misery will reign until it is time for rage." The miserable rage catapult said through his necrotic voice, and so his plans were acted upon by his catapult army, following the will of the superweapon born of their kind. So the rage catapults found themselves filled with even greater rage than they ever had been before.

As their kind had always been beings of rage, but it was more a state of being for them than any actual reason. Now, though, those rage catapults that formed the rear guard find themselves angry that they had failed in their task, that they would be destroyed, and in doing so allowed the enemy further into their home. So they somehow fought harder and lasted longer even when there was nothing left of them anymore.

Well, those rage catapults leaving to form a new line found themselves enraged for having to retreat to leave their brothers behind to let the enemy go even if they were losing. So once they formed a new line, not that further down from their brothers, who were being slain, they watched with burning hatred for their turn to once again bring their arms down and crush the invaders beneath their spiked hand.

The sad catapults watched all this and found themselves tasting a new kind of bitterness as they watched safe and far back from the fighting as their rage catapult brothers were destroyed. They tasted the bitterness of watching their brothers do everything they could to stop the enemy and fail. Then to make you pay for that failure, he forced you to leave your fellows behind to buy time while they formed a new line. Truly a miserable thing to see, and so this misery they felt added to their venomous payloads, making them even more deadly.

The grass pixies, meanwhile, felt themselves in a strange position to be in. They were winning and pushing the army of the necrotic siege weapons back, and from what the basic soldier of the grass pixie hunter army could tell, even the greatest of their kind did not wish to take them in as it remained at a safe distance. This made them rather hopeful that they could soon annihilate the necrotic siege army under the leadership of their hunting elders.

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Though at the same time this hopeful optimism filled them, they found that it wasn't all good. Even though they were winning, they felt a change come over their enemies as they weren't talking about their losing of the beginning clash very well, and this rage seemed to fuel their necrotic power to rather fearsome levels. As many of the grass pixie army found out as they would destroy a melee necrotic siege engine only to feel it pull itself together through pure rage.

They were eventually able to destroy most of what was left of the former front line of battle, but several refused to stay down and kept using their building rage at their continued defeat to fuel their rebuilding to fight again. Eventually, to finally destroy these necrotic siege engines of pure hate and rage, the elders themselves had to tlyse the great hunting bells to drain them of all their might, finally putting them down for the last time.

With the last of the front line destroyed, the grass pixie hunter army turned towards where the surviving melee necrotic siege engines had gone. They saw they had formed a second siege engine battle line further in the kingdom of Smog. The elders communed among themselves for a moment, within their one moment, looking over their situation through one mind but many different eyes.

They saw that casualties had been rather limited, but that there had been casualties, which wasn't good considering the giant workshop they all saw continued to pump out more necrotic siege engines to replace those that were destroyed. But they could not retreat, for if the giant workshop was not destroyed, the kingdom of Smog would flood their lands with siege engines.

So they marched, hoping that their skill and magic would win them the day over the dark power of their first and their unending number. "Charge for the clans!" The elders of the hunters grass pixie said as one as they and the rest charged forward to the second line of necrotic siege engines. As they did once again, as had happened before, the air filled with pebbles and acid as the grass pixies charged forward under the barrage of the grass Capulets and sad smog catapults, who only stopped their barrage once they had engaged the necrotic rage catapults in a grand melee once more.

The miserable rage catapult watched all this in the back line, waiting, its rage building, turning into pure hatred as it watched the casualties mount and the invaders dare to go closer into the lands it protects. Though soon it knew its time would come, for now it bathed in its own misery, the sad smog catapult near it shivering in awe at such powerful concentrated misery. "Soon you will break our lines after shattering line after line of my rage-smog catapult brethren." The miserable rage catapult said in its necrotic voice, misery dropping from every word.

But then it's hatred come forward so intense that it seemed to burn the very air around it. "But then you will be close, and then you will be mine, and I will grind you into a smear across the lands before charging out of the realm to invade your lands. Then I will get to feel the joy of grinding your people into nothing while in your lands." The miserable rage catapult said its words, a promise for what was to come of its hatred, was not satisfied in this battle.