A dragon would have attracted attention, so Shiloh left Amaranth behind several miles behind. She'd flown low and dropped him off behind a distant expanse of hills, and then she'd left, for they'd both decided it would be best if she didn't stick around to be discovered. Which was fine. This job required like stealth and finesse and subtlety and blending in, and you couldn't really do any of those things with a big-ass lizard at your heels.
And so, dressed in the rough, rugged, dirty clothes worn by many wasteland scavengers, Shiloh made his way into the outpost and opened his mind up to the town.
It was a simple mission: gather intel. No interference. These cultists were like rats and his job was to locate the nest and the big mama rat so they could drop some hella rat poison on them. Couldn't really exterminate them if you tipped them off and they scattered. Word was that there was some activity going on this way, so maybe he'd be able to pick up something juicy.
So far, he was just picking up on...exasperation?
Hefting his bag over his shoulder, he strode toward the first guy he saw. "Y'all got a motel or somethin' here?"