In the morning, Ean ate breakfast in the empty dining room. The absence of customers was a clear sign the town of Bridgewater was also suffering from the growing animosity between both countries.
Ean finished his breakfast and approached the innkeeper to check out. "Leaving already?" the innkeeper asked.
"Duty calls," Ean said. "The work of a postal inspector is never done. How's your mail service been?"
The innkeeper reached under the countertop, retrieved a letter, and slipped it to Ean. "I'm actually in need of a delivery. I thought since you're headed that way." He tapped his finger next to the address.
Ean looked at the letter. It was addressed to a woman in Riverside. He hesitated. Was the innkeeper trying to set him up? "I've no business in Argonia," he said stiffly.
"I know you're not from North Brindle," the innkeeper replied with a knowing look.
Ean tensed, preparing for a fight. His gaze darted toward the door, mentally mapping out a route to the bridge if he had to flee.
"Relax. Your identity is safe." The man checked to ensure they were alone. "Yesterday, you said you 'came up' from the North. A Brindler would say down."
Ean said nothing but took the letter.
"Please deliver this to my girlfriend," the innkeeper said. "She runs the flower stall in the market."
Ean remembered the carnations. "Your girlfriend helped in winning over my own," he said. "I will hand-deliver it to her."
The innkeeper glanced around the empty room, then leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll give you the same advice I'm sending her." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "In two weeks, find a place to stay in the countryside, far from the major cities."
SIDE QUEST ACCEPTED: SQ-05 Deliver personal letter to the florist
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LOG ENTRY UPDATED: Rumors - West Brindle
The innkeeper leaned back and said, "Best be on your way before the market square fills with protestors again."
Ean tucked the letter into his satchel, paid his bill by slipping the innkeeper a few extra gold coins, and then hurried to the park.
He found himself involuntarily suspecting every passerby was scrutinizing his every move with watchful eyes. The innkeeper's keen perception in penetrating his disguise left Ean deeply unnerved. Did he look Argonian? Some physical difference he wasn't aware of? Was he wearing an outdated style of Brindle clothing? With each step, he battled an increasing sense of vulnerability.
As the sun's warmth pierced through the dissipating fog, a cluster of elderly citizens was engaged in synchronized stretches. The steamy ground beneath their feet obscured their figures, resembling a sauna. Ean, feigning his own stretching routine, paced the perimeter of the park. He patiently tracked their movements until they finally ambled off into the early morning gloom.
The dead drop held a stack of messages with crossed out ciphertext. A clear indicator the spy had waited impatiently for weeks. The only message not crossed out was encrypted as a string of numbers. However, the first set of digits ruled out the Numbers For Letters cipher.
35 42 34 44 15 43 44 31 15 11 14 15 42 43 11 42 15 33 34 44 12 42 24 33 14 31 15 42 43
He sat on the park bench and identified the most frequently used numbers and did a frequency analysis.
Nothing but gibberish came out of his attempts.
It appeared to be a new cipher and if he were going to crack it, once again he would need Samuel's assistance. A trip across the bridge would be necessary. Should he take the risk of exposing himself to scrutiny by the guards on both sides so soon? What if one of the Brindle guards recognized him from yesterday?
The spy had strongly indicated their message contains actionable intelligence. If so, every hour wasted made the intelligence less timely.
Encrypted_Message-09 added to Inventory
QUEST COMPLETED: Q-021 Re-establish contact with the spies in West Brindle
REWARD: +2 XP (15/24)
CLASS RANK INCREASED: Spymaster +1 (9/12)
QUEST ACCEPTED: Q-022 Decipher Encrypted_Message-08
He departed the park and headed straight for the bridge. Fortunately, some Brindlers continued to travel into Riverside every day for business. Crossing over with the group drew less scrutiny from the guards. However, the furtive glances and whispers in the group let him know they found him suspicious.
Stepping onto Argonian soil lifted a cloak of anxiety he hadn't noticed. A feeling of patriotism welled up in him and drove him across the miles back to the bookstore. If the message contained information that would protect the kingdom he loved, he was determined to extract it and pass it to the king and the council for action.