Not long after the letter arrived informing him of his father's demise - and his fate as the next Viscount - a letter arrived from the most unlikely of sources. Each time Ryswald read the missive, the surprise waned. The Divine was the heart of much of Thedas, especially after recent events. More than that, the new Divine excelled at the Game beyond most others in Orlais. Could he truly be surprised that before he could return home, with all the reticence that held, he would need to appear in court before Her Most Holy? Politics, the most dastardly facet of life, would plague him for the rest of his days. 

He read the letter again, in the carriage that took him from the country estate he had bought for his new wife, to the audience demanded of him. Kirkwall, he knew, had lacked any sort of true leadership for far too long. Even those who had perhaps been good for the city, were forced out. Ryswald dreaded to learn just how many enemies with smiling faces waited for him at home. He had been gone so very long. 

He fixed his mask into place, simple pale gold with the smallest of engraving around the edges. Over a decade in Orlais and he still did not understand the appeal of the damned things. But to appear with out it, that would seem nearly heretical. Ryswald sighed, his shoulders dropping as if under a great weight. He allowed himself that singular moment before straightening, broad shoulders squared, as the door to the carriage opened. 

News of who to expect in attendance had drifted to him along the Orlesian grapevine. The Kirkwall Circle would have a new First Enchanter and Knight Commander. Kirkwall had for too long been under the thumb of a madwoman. With the Templars broken and thoroughly put in their place, he couldn't help but wonder if a city such as Kirkwall would accept the new order of things. Abominations and mages so easily susceptible were not new to his city. Not by choice, but by command - Orlesian command at that - he would bring change to a city rooted in its traditions. Just who was to fill these roles, he had heard a hundred different whispers along the way. Mages and magic did not intrigue him, magic had not run in his family for several generations unless the rumor about his great-grandfather siring a bastard on an elven mage was to be believed. The scandal of their affair alone had been enough to tarnish his views on both mages and elves even as a child. 

Within the chamber, Ryswald paid his respects to the new Divine. The mask may have hid his expression, but he kept his face void of emotion regardless. It was a good speech that she gave, the mage was known for her charisma, among her many other traits. Surely it would stir the hearts of some, and the new Viscount almost wished he could be so moved. But more than anyone present, he knew Kirkwall beyond the tragedies it had catalyzed. Three outsiders would carry the burden of [i]rebuilding[/i]. By blood, it may have been his right now, but to be given an Orlesian elf as First Enchanter for the Circle would not make his duty easier. The Divine certainly must have known that and his mind sought to untangle the why of who she had chosen. 

Dismissed and awaiting the arrival of the archivist, Ryswald leaned against the wall, his arms rigidly crossed. He took in the sight of the mage and the templar before him before daring to break the silence with what he was certain they all had on their minds. The Game was Orlesian, but none of that would taint Kirkwall, the nobles played their own games, 

"Either of you ever been to Kirkwall, or have the stories you've heard of my infamous city been enough?" He grimaced behind the mask, glad that at least his Knight Commander was not Orlesian if he too had to be a foreigner. His voice dropped as he glanced sideways, ensuring that the archivist was not about to walk through the door. "I have not been home in well over a decade - do not expect me to able to make your acceptance into the city any easier. We have a long road ahead of us, and an even longer one once we reach the city." [i]Maker help me. It is impossible.[/i] The thought entered his mind again, though he was certain the maker was not going to answer his pleas.