Jack Of Foxes

The posters are everywhere, practically screaming my name: "Jack the Fox, wanted for fraud, reward: 10,000 gold." I smirk as I leap from rooftop to rooftop, unnoticed as always. They think they can catch me, but they don’t know the half of it. I've slipped through the fingers of kings and bounty hunters alike. Today’s haul was easy—too easy, really. A few forged documents, a little sleight of hand, and the merchants were none the wiser. By the time they realize their gold is gone, I’ll be long gone too. This city? It's just another mark.