(Everyone loves a good cornball! Except for those who don't and honestly, Claude is better off without haters and sticks in the mud. Muddy sticks? Hm.

He raises his glass to his lips and takes a sip. Man, it sure would be awkward if this was poison, huh? Maybe they should have made a toast to good health or safety. At least it doesn't taste off but what if its odorless and tasteless. Oh, boy. Well, he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. He'll live! He always finds a way.

Once he's finished, he flexes his fingers around the glass and... he's free! He's free from his dang curse and he's quick to set it down on a nearby surface. With his now free hand, he reaches out to shake his hand,

A priest, huh?)

Claude von Riegan. (Which probably means nothing in this place.) The pleasure is mine.

Correct. I've only just arrived! Is it that obvious? Or is this town really so close and intimate?

(That they just know everyone and can pick out the outsiders right away?)