The only thing better than owning your own catapult is being able to say, “I made this myself,” and meaning it. Now you can build a variety of archaic weapons, enabling you to get ready (which, as you remember, Jesus wants). Gird your loins, guard your lawn, guide your launch, and you’ll have gored your landlord (or anyone else who’s getting a little too close, or cross, for your comfort).
Didn’t work? Don’t get upset—make your own trebuchet, which is often much more accurate than a catapult, for obvious design/engineering reasons that you’d be able to see if you had a more technically agile mind. This weapon can toss an object up to twenty feet, and is capable of smashing walls as well, giving it a double-pronged approach that makes it almost impossible to overcome.
So you start out with the catapult and trebuchet in your encroachment for rapprochement (because you’re really a lover, not a fighter, but that doesn’t mean you’re not intent upon winning).
Then, once you’re in a little closer, pull out the ballista, which you also made. It specializes in rock-hurling with accuracy, but not much distance. But by this point, the battle’s past its decisive point, and you’re undoubtedly triumphant.
Your secret weapon—how you got close enough to use the ballista—was that you’d also built your own siege tower. These were used for protection of people and weapons. You line up all your guys and your weapons behind what resembles a medieval-themed take-out window, then commence the attack. With careful aim, you can shoot your trebuchet or catapult through the window as you start out, get out the ballista when you’re closer, climb your hidden ladder (sold and built separately) and be o’er the ramparts before dawn’s early light, gallantly streaming.
