Ah the accent. Aleron recognizes it immediately. He'd been sent to Cumberland for some years following Mirielle's death, and to some degree he considers that his place of return. Nowhere is truly home for him. Not since he was a child. But those are thoughts of the past and not the present, which is what he needs to attend to. Brooding on things long gone can come tonight whenever he comes to rest.

Still, the familiar accent is a pleasure to hear, even if he doesn't show it.

He looks up to the speaker and slowly shakes his head. "I have not. Are you familiar with them?" Aleron spares a glance around at the landscape before him, trying to ascertain point of ascent to that location. Clearly the lady knows the way. "In which direction does the path lie?"

Her staff is not much of a concern to the Seeker, unless she suddenly chooses to become aggressive. He knows not who she is, nor her history, and he is no Templar. His duty does not include the mundane hunting of mages. Particularly not one who's done no obvious wrong beyond lingering around an unknown potential source of magic.