The city was a little narrower, with little space to move, and Rosacer struggled to push through the crowd. Many times, he felt hands brush near his pockets, but they were most often met with emptiness.
Rosacer laughed inside at the futile attempts of the thieves. Once, a thief tried to snatch his Grafted Sigil, but the sheer corruption welling inside it surged upon contact, making the man shudder and collapse to the ground in convulsions as passersby rushed to help him.
Passing through the streets, he attempted to converse with the people around him, asking about the city and the places worth visiting.
Through these brief exchanges, he gained a general understanding of where he was.
