Chapter CCXCVII: Iron Cold; Solid Gold ~Multehx

The engine of the cab died off as the door was slammed shut. The driver walked casually over to the attached flatbed and examined what it carried.

A sneer crossed his metal lips and he snickered happily. "The controller should be pleased." Running a hand over the cannon, it grinned wider. "Hand crafted, polished, not a scratch on her...yes, he shall be very pleased."

Going back to the cabin and retrieving a hessian cloth blanket from the seats, he closed the door again and threw the cloth full over the device; shrouding it completely.

But the cabin was still fully exposed. He walked back and forth, frowning and muttering, "Ok..ok...how to go about, how to..."

Then he stopped. Studying the alley he had parked the truck in, an idea slowly formed.

The building to the rear of the vehicle was a run down-shop with some activity still in it, but to the front was an abandoned stone building of great size. Tractul nonchalantly made his way over to it. Tapping the aged stones with the back of one knuckle he decided that it was old enough for this to work, yet still new enough for it not to fail on him.

Drawing a fist back, he viciously delivered a savage punch to the brick wall. His fist crashed through the stone it hit even. Almost instantly, the building came tumbling down in a shower of bricks. Though the falling debris heavily assaulted and damaged the truck cabin, it also served the purpose of burying it entirely in a pile of rubble.

Dusting off his metallic hands, the robotic figure set off for the street. Ignoring odd looks he got from passers by, and the way they tended to hurry up when they passed him, he thought of where he should head for next. A moment's reflection brought him upon a fact that he must have learned in his life as the being he used to be. "When in doubt, visit the tavern. The leads are greatest where the cares are least."

So he shrugged, smirked to himself as he thought, Why the heck not? and strode off to look for the nearest pub.