"Only two." It's not a question, though it certainly could be. He can feel his heart sink at that news. Where are the rest? Did they too abandon the Chantry or have they just vanished? He knows, logically, that the Seekers are ever scattered to the winds and so small a number is probably fair representation, but he's disappointed and concerned nonetheless. He'd hoped for more. Not something worth exploring with an unknown person.

Back to the matter at hand, he inclines his head just enough to be polite without conveying deference. "Seeker Darton."

He'd supply more of a name but he'd just as soon not confirm his identity until he knows more. Mother might not be in the Free Marches anymore, but his younger sisters and their families are. Ravonild too, though hang her. If trouble shows on her doorstep in relation to him, perhaps it's damned well time. Not that he expects a Qunari mage in the Hinterlands to recognize the name and draw connections, but as he knows entirely too well, people do talk and Endridge wool is a sought-after commodity.

"And yourself, madam?"