Nodding her head, Kyra departed from Parum to see if she could go swipe a uniform from one of the purple-robed people, or possibly just regular uniforms. And there was only one way to do that; handle the laundry. Surely these cultist needed to clean their attires from time-to-time, even if they lived like a bunch of filthy brigands for most of their lives. At the very least Kyra could convincingly play the part of a mere rag washer, grabbing an empty basin she could fill and a wooden rack she could use to wash clothes with. She went around the camp looking for cultist in particular if they had any uniforms to wash, saying that she was going to go do some washing and doesn't intend to make two-trips.