Spell, the Tabaxi Rogue (Inquisitive Archetype)

Spell had been taught a variety of things by their rogue family. They were taught how to pickpocket, how to make murders look like suicides, how to investigate every move someone made to beat them at their own game... they had learned nearly everything at some point in time, or they had tried to.

Coincidentally, the one thing they hadn't been taught yet was how to be get away with it when you're caught doing crime. And right now, they DESPERATELY needed that, because their tall ass was just caught stealing out of a noble's pockets.

In short, they were now being interrogated by the federal guard force. This was quite the change from the local guards they were used to bribing.

The guard in charge of interrogating them was staring them down like an eagle as he asked a variety of questions, almost like he was playing with his prey before they got devoured.

"So, Mistrum... Spell of Rain. Quite an odd name, but- do you care to comment on why you have Markori's Onyx Shield Ring on your person?" he asked, keeping a stone face as he did so.

The pupils of their eyes widened in fear as their mind raced through a million strategies. However, before they could even think of the wisest thing to say in this situation, the perfect thing burst out of their mouth.

With a pathetic whimper, they started, "I'm- I'm so sorry, Sir... I had noticed this ring on the floor, with no owner, and I picked it up so it wouldn't be tarnished by the tavern floor! I truly didn't realize it was a noble artifact. I apologize dearly, to both you and Sir Markori!"

This was a total lie. They absolutely knew it was a noble artifact, and they didn't feel bad about it at all. To add insult to injury, the ring didn't even fall on the floor- it was in his bag the entire time.

But yet, somehow... it fucking worked. Both the guard and the noble human smiled at them with pity, almost like they were looking at a wet kitten.

Spell had to stop themself from laughing as they looked at how sympathetic the two were. After all, the tabaxi literally towered over both of them, and yet the duo's paternal instincts seemed to activate immediately when it came to them.

Sir Markori spoke before the guard got the chance to. "It's quite alright... as long as I get my ring back, it'll be alright."

They nodded, keeping their pupils wide on purpose as they handed him his ring. After a few more niceties, Spell was politely helped out the door by the noble and the guard, tail kept between their legs.

And yet, in all this time spent interrogating them, not a single person noticed the thousands of gold they'd pocketed alongside the ring.

Oh, well, he'd find out about it soon enough.

When they got home from the bar, their family was quick to both learn about the stunt they pulled... and to give them a humiliating nickname based on the incident. Spell ended up being called the "Boss Baby" of the family for the remainder of their life.

The entire experience may have sucked, but at least they made their family fucking rich in the process.