Oh, crumpets.
That's the first thought that's going through Samuele's head as he approaches the door of what local rumors say is a magic-user. A mage. Tricky thing, that - Sam hates to play cop, especially bad cop...that's really more of an Inquisitor's schtick, not a Saint's. But...he's the only church official in the area, and thus the onus falls upon him to heed the local residents complaints and concerns and investigate.
"Ahm...well, here goes. Ahem..." Hopefully, he doesn't muck it up.
Knock knock knock knock, goes Sam's knuckles on the door.
"Hello? Excuse me, that is to say - I hope you're not busy! My name is Blessed Saint Samuel, of the most Holy Church of Talamh. I'm sure you've heard of that, yes? Please, just call me Sam."
There's a pause. A pause that lasts long enough for a bead of sweat to form on the saintly youth's brow. Reaching up, Sam pushes his lovely blonde locks away from his forehead before they can stick to it in an undignified manner.
"...I do hope you're home! You see, there've been, uh- well, reports. Reports that there is a mage living nearby-" Living here, Sam doesn't say...yet. "-and thus it's my duty to, well...verify the veracity of those claims. And such."
Another pause, and Sam's expression falls further. What if they really aren't home? Bother...he can't just break into someone's home, mage or no! That's what an Inquisitor would do - but certainly not a Saint of Sam's calibre!
"...please open the door?" He squeaks meekly, as a last resort.
