"Zehahaha! Look at all this money!" A man with an eyepatch boasted boisterously as he shoved his arm into a chest full of bronze and silver coins and rummaged around in it, salivating and giving himself an erection in the process. He was Blackjack, the leader of the Wraithclaws.
"We depleted a lot of villages of their funds to enrich ourselves, though. We can't expect us to be able to keep this rate of growth up unless we move outside Blackthorn lands… and you know who we would have to contend with there." His second in command and the organization's brains, Specter, murmured to reign Blackjack and his celebration in. The boss was a bit off in the head, so a trusted aide was needed to run the place properly.
Blackjack scoffed frustratedly, "… the Vesper Consortium."
