It was just another day in the oasis village that the bokoblins had taken to living their lives, ferrying around primitive forms of agriculture and making do with a primitive village. It was primitive most certainly, harsh living, but not an unhappy one. They had each other to keep themselves company, and through that companionship, they were able to overcome the worst of problems with little issue. Such was the ironclad community they had. Many had once been part of an army that had marched into the fertile lands beyond the desert, veterans that had turned down their clubs in favour of starting a community, a new leaf. The many events of the time had made them introspective, desiring for regrowth in a time where loss was common among bokoblin-kind. It was for that reason, they were earnest workers, despite the difficulties of starting the largest villages in a desert, they had wanted prosperity.

The bokoblins were squat creatures, with piggish faces, and knob-like noses that hover above their Hapsburg-like lips. Their jaws gave them a dumb look, but in fact they were one of the smarter creatures of their kind. They could use tools, rudimentary as it were, and think slightly farther ahead. It was for that reason, they can manage a village far more successfully than their Moblin cousins, whom though were stronger, were far more simpler in mindset. Their actions had accrued a certain sense of brute actions that others would be hard spent to replicate, given the bokoblins' far more cunning actions.

Regardless, the village in itself had around a good few hundred settlers, one of the larger settlements out in the desert, as they lingered near one of the larger oasis in the area. They had the elixir of life in their reach, water, enough to last them for decades if not a good century or two if they had rationed it properly, and ration they did. Numerous buildings made of sand-clay stood on top of the hardened sand-beds, housing the bokoblin population and protecting them from the sun. It served as a centre of routine for the populace, where they may raise their young in safety, sleep in the sanctity of their homes, and return to their abodes once the hard work had been done. They've learnt to prosper under peace and isolation, and had come to admire the safety and stability it had brought.

This would go on a while, until now.

It was night time, the skies were lit up by the moon in its fullest, glaring down with its light to the place beneath. Midnight was the time, and darkness loomed, yet enough illumination had persisted to give distinction to any figures at night.

The torches in the village were lit, and the sentries stood guard, not noticing something in the far off distance.

On the horizon of the sandy dunes, a lance with a flag attached was risen, held aloft. In it, the flag was predominantly black, with an insignia emblazoned on it. The golden colour of the triforce was in the surrounded by black, yet in the middle of the triforce was the symbol of a red, bleeding eye balefully staring out. The figure holding it was mounted on top of a camel, burnished in platemail armour with a surcoat worn over it to deflect the possible heat of the mornings prior, the insignia on his breastplate had made him out to be a Hylian Knight. His fair appearance was concealed under the crest-haired helm he wore, that in general, to those who had seen the mark of House Papke, would soon learn to fear the symbol it had come to represent, and the terror the bearer would come to bring. As he gave a speech, for now, he was unnoticed. With him, he would be flanked by an ensemble of other ragtag group of misfits to hound this somewhat defenseless village.

"I am a well read man, I have come to know the wonders of the world and tasted their best, yet here we are, seeing the very worst the world has to offer! These beasts would cause any scholars to BLUSH! Blush for the perversity they bring in their wake, BEST not mentioned in polite company! Living together in such a loving community, as if such baser born creatures are capable of it. This hovel of pathetic squalid creatures had come to lay in these lands unattended long enough! The Goddess herself works in mysterious ways, it was under her guidance, we had brought civilisation, enlightenment and temperance to this world centuries ago. Now, these pests, vermin all, these bokoblin seek to undo this by tainting these lands with their presence, squatting as if we would forget the very force, the very nature they had represented." Nuada spoke with confidence, his voice supreme in what he had felt his own righteousness as he stared down the village so far away, begging for a charge in the midst of his adventuring party. Groups all he had gathered with promises of glory and loot alike. "Even a moment of their presence here SEEKS to undo the order the Hylian civilisation had brought, so far away, and seek to unravel the peace we had brought at the tip of our sword. NO MORE. We had dragged this forlorn territory into the modern age once, we shall do so again at the tip of our lances and the boots of our heels upon their corpses. This is the dawn of a new age, a new era, a new order! These wretches, knaves all, are not fit to breathe the same air as we do, their betters. To do so would be an insult to us by their very existence! Men! Ready yourselves, tonight, we shall run this oasis red in their blood! Create a river of crimson red! If glory is what you seek, then glory you shall get! If gold is what you want, then gold you shall get! Your desires will be fulfilled, so long as you follow me, best among you. Now I say this once... CHARGE! LEAVE NONE ALIVE, and burn this hovel to the ground! I would seek nothing more than the destruction of this hovel, and to hear the lamentation of their womenfolk! HAHA, CHARGE, YOU FILTHY WHORESONS, CHARGE! IF I SEE ONE MAN OR WOMAN WITH AN UNBLOODIED SWORD, I WILL RUT YOU IN YOUR HINDQUARTERS WITH MY SWORD! Not ONE OF YOU ARE ALLOWED TO LEAVE A SINGLE ONE OF THESE BOKOBLINS UNTOUCHED! I EXPECT DEATH! DESTRUCTION! And then I expect some lollygagging! Now off you go!"