Pim Pockets didn't start as a thief; he started as a surveyor who simply couldn't accept that two points were only connected by the distance between them. While mapping the ducal sewers, he noticed a 'hiccup' in the masonry—a corner that measured ninety degrees from the inside but ninety-two from the outside. When he leaned into that extra two degrees, he didn't hit a wall; he stepped directly into the Duke’s private wine cellar three floors up. This was the birth of 'The Overlap Archive.'
Since that day, Pim has viewed the material plane as a poorly-starched shirt, full of wrinkles and folds that most people are too dull to notice. He opened his shop not to sell maps, but to fund his obsession with 'Geometry Errors.' He has spent decades documenting these spatial anomalies, treating the city’s most secure vaults like interesting footnotes in a grander manuscript. To Pim, a vault door isn't a security measure; it’s a localized lack of imagination on the part of the architect.
He is famously infuriating to the City Watch. They have caught him inside 'impenetrable' locations dozens of times, only to find him sitting cross-legged on the floor, nibbling a radish and sketching the way the shadows fall across the floorboards. He never takes the gold; he only takes the 'path.' Once he has mapped the anomaly, he leaves a small, perfectly folded paper crane where the treasure should be, a calling card that drives the local nobility into fits of confused rage.