The Brothers Beedle In: The Prize of the Gargoyle Queen (not smut)

Something I had just sort of lying around based on an old joke I made with some friends on Skype... I joked that I wanted to name my next character Atlas Beetle, man of action. A friend one-ups me and introduces his brother Hercules, then another Goliath, and then their brought Doug Beetle that we don't talk about. We start googling species of beetles to outdo each other. Before long we have a Google doc of their family tree, their arch rivals the Weevil family, and cheesy titles of their pulp adventure show's episodes. So just for fun and the characters being so established by the group, I wrote up a story of a generic adventure of theirs and their dynamic. 

It doesn't have anything more sexy than a couple smooching, but I still was pretty proud of it!  The Punch Out art is coming, as is the pillowfight story. The first needs the bruises and bumps added to finish it, and the story really just requires me to settle on some names and ideas that I've listed for the exact theme... might require another poll.

"Balderdash!" Reinhardt “The Rhinoceros” Beedle blustered around his triumphant moustache. "Those Weevils are nothing but a bunch of toadying busybodies! Why, the only recognition that blasted Bull deserves is for his great, fat-"

"Yes, yes, dear," Ambrosia casually agreed with the aging adventurer, looping his tie around his neck. Only Reinhardt's own brothers could rile him up as much as his old college rival. "He'll never be half as good as any Beedle. But he's being recognized by the Explorer's Guild, and you're a such a prominent member. It's expected."

"Just so long as that Bull expects a fist in the head if he opens that blubber hole of his at me the wrong way." Reinhardt shook said fist that even at his age, it still looked like it could knock out the chief of the snake men with one sound blow. He was a mountain of a man, possessing a build of a muscular gentleman. Broad shoulders, big calloused hands, barely combed back red-brown hair, and a few tastefully small scars on his person told the tales of his vigorously lived life. He held a cigar in his mouth right beneath his mighty moustache whenever possible, giving his wife the courtesy of not having it lit while she did his tie. She said she found the smell "charming," but it seems like a bad idea with her so close while she emptied her second snifter of liquor.

"Of course, dear," Ambrosia agreed. She was a tall woman who aged like wine (possibly something to do with her heavily wine-based diet). She was slim and elegant without looking frail, with long, jet black hair running down to the middle of her fine dress. She was a prize of a wife, but the kind of prize you could bludgeon an intruding assassin to death with. Her socialite nature, musical laughter, and bottomless well of patience for her family hid the woman who had met Reinhardt on the day that they both happened to have chosen to explore the peaks of Mount Moltentop. She had come from money just like Reinhardt, so the marriage was for anything but wealth of the monetary kind. What they had found was an abundance of love and, eventually, children.

"Brothers Beedle! Are you all ready yet?!" Ambrosia called as she tugged the last of Reinhardt's knot into place.

The boys came in with the usual steady thumping of heavy footsteps. She had seen them sneak into a base of armed guards undetected, but they couldn't keep from stomping around the house. They had inherited a lot from their father, and for most of them, his massive bulk was a part of the charming package.

"Ready to go, mother," Hercules Beedle affirmed. The eldest and self-proclaimed strongest brother, Hercules was tall and built like a bear. Despite his name, he was a famed American hero in both the field of adventure and exploration and winning his country the gold in the hammer throw. His dark hair was trim and slicked back, and like the rest of his brothers, his broad shoulders were stuffed into a suit.

"There's a good boy," Ambrosia doted, standing on the tips of her toes to reach and straighten his collar. "Atlas, let's have a look at you."

"It's fine, mom," the second and self-proclaimed strongest brother insisted. Ambrosia still found a few dark red hairs to brush off his shoulders and some fuzz to pull off his shirt. If Hercules was built like a bear, then Atlas was built like a tiger; distinctly different, yet both startling to see in the shadow of a dark alley (because what on earth is that bear doing in an alley?). He was still certainly a large man, but he had the solid build and quickness to him of a university quarterback rather than Hercules' Olympian bulk. His light red hair was longer than Hercules', but just in a tastefully rugged sort of way.

"Well ,don't go getting into trouble. The Guild's a respectable place."

"But, mom, those are the best places to trouble in." Atlas gave a wolfish grin before his mother kissed him on the cheek.

"One night, you fiend. Baum? Your turn for inspection."

"Right here, mum." Baum Beder Beedle was the shortest of the brothers, which was to say he was of fairly average human height and build. It hadn't kept him from enlisting in the army and serving a short but very effective term as a pilot. It was where the self-proclaimed smartest brother (though no one actually contests this one) picked up an affinity for planes, engines, firearms, and brash Royal Air Force fighter pilots. He would even go on to marry one of them, although Darling would insist that it was to his plane. "I'm with the boys, though. I'd be more comfortable in uniform."

"I told you they don't make three-piece suits with goggles," Ambrosia scolded, brushing a few stray hairs down. He was only just starting to grow his dark red hair back out from his efficient military cut, but she had trouble finding something to fuss over on the more meticulous and precise of her sons.

"It's alright. There's still room in the coat for a sidearm."

Hercules scoffed a bit, his opinion made clear many a time about his thoughts on guns. They just got in the way of "real fighting." Atlas understood, at least. But then again, he was the type of man to bring a gun to a knife fight.

"Ma, do we have to wear these?" Goliath Beedle groaned. His specially made suit still fit snugger than he'd like. "Why do we all have to go?"

"Because your father's college roommate is being recognized by The Guild for his work and donations..." Reinhardt snorted behind her. "Since your father was already given the same treatment years ago. But you boys aren't proper members yet, and I expect you'll be spotted for recruitment any day now."

"I don't need a guild to go exploring," Goliath groaned. The little brother of the Beedles was such only by technicality. The self-proclaimed tallest brother (this was argued, but eventually proven true) was a broad and towering young man with shaggy, reddish-brown locks. Despite their fortune, none of the boys could be rightfully called layabouts, but Goliath was particularly known to be out on hikes, climbs, treks, and walkabouts whenever he discovered somewhere interesting. He wasn't the brightest of the boys, but with a heart to match his height.

"Then be there for support. Your father will need it if he blows up on Bull Weevil again," Ambrosia insisted. She licked her thumb and Goliath squatted as low as he could for her to wipe some jelly off his cheek.

"Yea, runt," Atlas grinned at him. "Besides, if Bull's there, then you just know Plum's going to be there."

Goliath blushed and avoided his brother's eyes. "Why... why's that matter?" he muttered, suddenly sheepish for a boy who could crush a tin can in his fist.

"And that no-good schemer Nathan's sure to be around," Hercules grumbled, as if missing the point of Atlas' accusation.

"Good ol' awful Nut," Baum mused. "I bet he's allowed to cause trouble there, if he wanted."

"Because their old man can't keep his boys in check," Reinhardt harrumphed. He was quite the seasoned harrumpher.

"Enough about the Weevils!" Ambrosia snapped, whirling around and pointing her finger at them all in one menacing sweep. "We'll all be up to our noses in Weevils soon enough, and I don't need an extra minute of them! So we're going to go to the clubhouse, we're going to smile and be polite, and we are going to enjoy their hospitality while we ignore what they're saying about THAT family. Reinhardt, they have the brandy you're so fond of, and Goliath, they'll be serving those potatoes you like."

"What about the Plums?" Atlas muttered under his breath, getting a brief snicker from Baum.

"And then we are going to come home and point out their every flaw, because they are the bloody Weevils and they are sure to screw something up tonight. Mark my words!" Ambrosia manifested the end of the conversation as a quick pour and swig from her bottle. The men of the house pursed their lips and clicked their tongues, but they did seem to concede to their mutual dislike and distrust of the Weevils (apart from maybe one).

The clattering of dull claws on wood came towards the lounge, the family dog barging into the room excitedly. Like everything the Beedles owned and did, Pyrophorus was big. Reinhardt bought the trusty mutt when Hercules was young, and the boys had ridden him around the house when they were still small. The fact was that if "Ruff" had any pedigree, it involved a lot of shrugging and squinting at smudged letters. He vaguely resembled a shaggy brown mastiff with a narrower snout, and the closest thing he had to a breed was Hercules jokingly calling him a "German Sheep Setter."

The boys all smiled at the excitedly barking Ruff, Goliath stooping down to ruffle and rustle his head with his massive hands. "Oh, you can't come on this one, Ruff. This' a fancy kind of mission. We can't put a suit on you!"

"No, but he can put Ruff on your suit." Ambrosia sighed. She produced a brush as she quickly swept the abundant dog hair off of her son.

The family was briskly packed up, driven out, and loaded onto the train heading towards The Guild clubhouse. With a half-ton of Beedle onboard, it seemed a miracle that the train didn't tip to the one side. The two taken brothers had met up with their respective and significant others at the station, leaving Hercules and Goliath to busy themselves on the way.

"Did you see that bloody bird they had back there?" Darling Beedle gushed to her husband. The rear cars of the train were loaded up with freshly gathered artifacts, inventions, relics (some mystical, some simply elderly members of The Guild) and specimens to be presented, and a prototype German fighter plane was strapped onto one of the open flat cars.

"I did. Flying deathtrap," Baum agreed. "They had no idea what they were doing. A good piece of shrapnel would send the whole thing up in flames."

"And how you think she handles? It's like some great, ugly ol' rusty vulture. Wouldn't catch me dead in that thing."

"Sure they would: just fly in it for more than two minutes."

Darling was a surprising addition to the Beedle family. She was petite in practically every respect, from her button nose to her short brown hair. Even Ruff was bigger than her. However, Baum knew all too well that the British fighter pilot was no less dangerous, whether in a cockpit or throwing fists with the best of them. They had found their love in the skies during their military service, and while Darling spent some of her time away on missions for The Queen, her heart stayed back in the states, talking engines, heavy artillery and other romantic subjects with Baum.

"Promise that if we ever get like that, you'll try to shoot me," Atlas muttered, grinning from his seat a few rows behind Baum.

"As if I'd miss you, sweetie," Jewel replied with a stunning smile and a tempting French accent. "The trick isn't hitting a Beedle so much as it is having enough bullets to bring one down."

"No sweet talking me with the night we met, now," Atlas grinned. He still had the scars, after all.

Jewel Levoleur was a lovely collection of golden curls, soft curves, and long limbs, making for a heartbreaker of a tall blonde. She dressed in fine clothes whenever possible, which in her case meant almost any time she wasn't in some sort of catsuit. Atlas had to look harder than his brother to find his fiancee, mainly because she was after the collection of jewels he'd been asked to protect. One unexpected interruption from some pesky ninja and they ended up spending the night together; Jewel was up for hours pulling the bullets out and putting blood back in. She hadn't gotten away with the jewels that night, but she soon ended up wearing a diamond instead. She had gone straight from there, give or take a few degrees. Marrying a Beedle tended to do a lot for your woman’s need for adventure. She still liked to keep herself in practice, about as much as Atlas still liked to watch out for a pretty face.

Reinhardt sat among his old friends and company from The Guild who would be attending the same assembly. Ambrosia stayed by his side, masterfully maneuvering through the discussion while keeping a few drinks handy. They would be needed for when Bull came up in the conversation and Reinhardt needed something else to do with his mouth than scoff. When he behaved himself... well, she could always drink for two.

Eventually the morning moved on, hovering around the afternoon when the train gave a quick jolt and a rattle. It stayed comfortably in motion, indicating that it wasn't anything to throw the massive machine off the tracks, but still something worth everyone looking up from their seats.

"The devil was that?" asked Elmer McIntire in his posh accent.

"Given the cargo, it might very well be devils," Reinhardt noted indifferently, getting a laugh from most of the passengers. Some of the more grim ones gave him a meaningful look. "I could use a bit of fresh air. Don't mind me, lads. I'm just stepping out to make sure none of the mummies broke loose. They'd make better company than this stuffy old bunch anyway!"

The jest was met with much chortling and "yes, quite"s and freshening of spilled drinks as the old hero headed back towards the cargo train. The conversation was promptly cut off again as an avian shriek rang through the car along with a strangely matching screech of bending steel. A huge, beaked face and a large gray claw burst down from the roof of the train, grabbing Reindhart around his impressive middle. It jerked back up in what might have been quite the terrifying kidnapping... if Reinhardt were some sort of lightweight ninny of an adventurer. The strange monster looked visibly puzzled by the fact that it didn't vanish as quickly as it came back to the roof, its long and muscled arm struggling to lift Reinhardt a few feet off the floor of the train car.

"Gah!" Reinhardt spat beneath his shield of a moustache. "It takes more than one beast to crush a Beedle!" With a gesture he'd done a thousand times over and never once for practice, Reinhardt reached into his coat, drew a clean, sharp dagger, and drove it into the struggling beast's arm muscle. A clear slime oozed out of the gaping wound as it gave a deep howl, dropping Reinhardt and pulling itself back onto the roof with a flap of leathery wings.

"Beedle, my boy! Are you alright!?" Tucker Bagg asked, the scarred old Aussie rushing over before he was brushed aside by a big hand.

"Bah! I've been in the jaws of things ten times bigger than that, and seized by things twenty times as much! Took my good knife with him too, the noisy little pickpocket." The crowd was clearly too stunned to fully appreciate the joke.

The brothers traded knowing looks before they wordlessly moved out. Baum drew out his trusty pistol, checking it out of habit despite its trustiness. Hercules moved beneath the hole in the ceiling and performed an impressive vertical leap, catching the edge of the opening and hoisting himself onto the roof in one nimble chinup. He expectantly slung a mighty arm back down the hole, where Atlas caught his palm. The two hoisted him up in one well-oiled gesture. Baum checked that Darling was with him before they darted out the car's rear door.

Goliath stretched and yawned in his chair, his knuckles nearly scraping the ceiling. He looked around lazily before life blinked back into the young juggernaut's eyes. "Aww! Head start's no fair, you guys!" he blurted, groggily pushing himself out of his seat and thundering after Baum. He didn't get far when another creature burst through the side of the car, grabbing at the biggest target in the room. Goliath caught it by the arms as the group got their first good look at the thing; 8 or 9 feet tall, depending how much it hunched over, thick bat-like wings, a beak full of needly fangs, glowing red eyes, back-curled horns, and stone-gray skin all over.

Goliath headbutted it square between the eyes out of reflex. The creature went cross-eyed before Goliath caught one of its horns, slammed it into the floor of the train, and caught a wing to hurl it back out of the train to bounce messily off the soil a few times. "Rude," he sighed before looking down at the scratch-marks turn into his coat. "Oh. Handsy little guy. Hey, mom! A gargoyle got my coat! Looks like I can't-"

"Don't you dare say another word, Goliath Q. Beedle!" Ambrosia shot right back. Goliath sighed dejectedly as Reinhardt turned to the rest of the attendees.

"Alright! Out with it! Who here went to Zimbutu?" Professor Bagg raised his hand uncertainly. "You cretin! You KNOW Zimbutu is gargoyle territory! Whatever you took from them, the stone-headed thugs will rip this train apart!”

“It wos just a wee amulet…”

“AND it glittered!? They’ll drive themselves mad getting it back! You damnable magpie of a man! We're going to be ridiculously late like this!"

Ambrosia pat his oak tree of on the arm. "Now dear, don't worry. Your boys are on the job with the ladies. We'll see Weevil make a fool of himself right on schedule." The mother shot a quick glance past his arm to Goliath, who nodded obediently and jogged out of the train.

Atlas and Hercules steadied themselves on the train, pressing their impressive weight against the roof of their car. Dozens more of the winged beasts flew over and hung onto various parts of the train, shrieking and cawing as they tore into whatever they could get a hold of to seek out whatever they were looking for.

"Ha! Feel that wind, little brother?!" Hercules said with a wild grin on his face. "It's been too long since I've been on the roof of a speeding... well, anything, really!"

"Yea! You kind of miss it!" Atlas called back over the winds that whipped back his hair and coat. He started to trek back with a degree of ease that would have surprised any onlookers. Four of the gargoyles saw them advancing and beat their wings to turn into a dive at the brothers.

They reared for a strike when Atlas drew a revolver and emptied half his rounds into them. The shots bounced off the monsters' thick skins, but startled them into swerving while one gargoyle flew off-course from a direct hit in the wing. The monsters landed to approach the brothers on foot as they moved back to back.

"Do you think you'll miss this sort of thing once you're married?" Hercules chuckled to his brother.

"You don't know my wife very well, you little boyscout." Atlas grinned with a touch of madness behind it as the first gargoyle lunged at him. Atlas twisted away from the shredding claws while sticking close enough to drive his knee up into its outstretched elbow. The creature's solid and rigid build betrayed it with a gravely crunch as it landed with a howl, tumbling off the train and left in the dust.

Behind Atlas, Hercules had caught the second incoming beast by the neck, letting its snapping jaws and grabbing talons do harm nothing more vital than the sleeve of his coat. Hercules lifted his gargoyle like a thrashing, ugly barbell and slammed its head down into the roof of the train. It jerked from the impact, and did so again when Hercules gave it another for good measure. When another set of talons were heard rushing at him, Hercules spun around and slammed the attacker with his captive gargoyle, making it look like it had run into an incoming mirror. The eldest Beedle brother let them fall from the train in a tangled heap as he took a third by the horns. He started to wrestle down the snapping creature when Atlas stepped in from behind him, drawing a long knife from beneath his pant leg and driving it into the monster's neck.

"You meddling little thief," Hercules snorted with an appreciative grin.

"Glory hog," Atlas shot back. He ducked under another slashing claw, letting it tear his jacket instead of his jugular before replying with a sharp punch to the thing's throat.

"Those buggers are quick. I'll give them that," Darling noted. She had pulled open one of the cargo's crates and tossed Baum an outdated rifle. He had emptied his sidearm into the monsters to drive them away from the cart, and now her husband was manning the windows while she dug through the boxes.

"It's because they're made of falling stone," Baum noted, popping out into a window to tag one of the gliding gargoyles in the ribs. The bullet bounced off, but when it turned to investigate the sting, Baum had ducked back out of sight. "They're also rubbish for maneuvering and only as smart as they look." He promptly reloaded and returned to his sniping spot to pierce the target's eye with a second bullet. The creature dropped like a bag of marbles and scattered on the ground in a similar fashion.

"Reminds me of that clunker we flew out of Spain," Darling added nostalgically. She opened up a small sealed box, just to find it full of shrunken heads and variously sized paws of various monkeys. She rolled her eyes and stuffed them back into the crate.

"Ah, right. The crop duster." Baum shot down another diving gargoyle while Darling move onto the next crate. For such a tiny woman, she handled the crowbar with sharp pulls and maximum efficiency. "Why were we even in Spain, anyway?"

"One of your brothers had a treasure map or something. Aztecs? Maybe? I was too caught up on that plane."

"I swear, I'm sick of those ancient devil cults. If I see one more-"

Baum was cut off by a startled scream and the harsh groan of bending steel. A claw and head of one of the gargoyles had rammed through another window and part of the wall. Before Baum could shift his aim, the startled Darling brought the crowbar across its face, knocking it silly. Two more sets of claws tore at the metal of the train car as the things seems to realize that the windows were blocked, but there was no shooting through the iron exterior.

"They're tearing us apart!" Darling called too Baum, not so much a cry for help as it was a call to action.

“It would take more than rampaging Gargoyles to tear us apart, Darling, so how about we focus on the train?” Baum quipped. "There's too many choke points to cover. Maybe I could if this thing could reload worth a damn." Baum thumped his wrist against the old firearm to get it to load properly.

"And I haven't found a trace of that bloody amulet. We're wasting our time in this thrice-damned death trap."

The young couple paused before meeting each other's eyes to confirm they were having the same thought. "Death trap," they agreed in unison. Baum kicked open the rear door of the car, shooting down one gargoyle that tried to clamber after them. Darling caught another on the chin with her crowbar, sending him tumbling under the crushing wheels of the train and reducing him to powder. They hurried onto the flatbed behind them, throwing off the tarp and piling into the German fighter plane.

"Hey, Baum!" Goliath ducked through the doorway after them (because he had to, not for any strategic value). "Whatcha doing?!"

"Taking the fight up to the bastards. You got this down here?" Baum pulled on a pair of goggles with one hand while the other pointed behind his brother. Goliath whirled around and smashed a simple, backhanded fist across the beak of a diving gargoyle, flattening it against the box car.

"This? Yea, I'm fine. Good luck up there, Baum!"

"Won't need it, but thanks all the same, runt." Darling gave the propeller a spin and ran around to the rear gunner seat before the veered off into the treacherous skies.

Atlas slipped in past another gargoyle's reach and caught it by the throat. It snapped its beak at him, just for the Beedle to slip a knuckleduster from inside his sleeve and deliver a cracking strike to its mouth. Hercules proved to be less maneuverable, but also less phased as one of the creatures raked its claws down his arm. He caught the offending wrist and kicked where its ribs would be, tearing the rocky arm off and sending it flying over the edge of the train. Hercules turned to face another just as Goliath caught it by the ankle, pulling himself up on top of the train while hurling the monster off.

"Hey, guys. Baum say 'hi," Goliath greeted with a grin.

"Dammit, Goliath!" Hercules barked at him. "You SAW I was going to beat him with his own arm. You KNOW how rare it is I get to actually do that!"

"It wasn't even his arm," Atlas objected as he grappled another gargoyle's horns while he pistol whipped its skull. "It was his pal's. Don't think I wasn't watching. Doesn't count."

"Yea, no cheating, Herc," Goliath agreed. He reached one massive limb up and caught a swooping monster by the wing. It wasn't expecting an even bigger Beedle to appear, so he easily pulled it down and bounced it off the roof of the train car.

"Don't you start going on about cheating, Atlas," Hercules scolded, aiming and then hurling the arm to pelt another incoming beast in the head.

"Almighty, how many of these things are there?" Atlas growled. "They're starting to bore me."

"I'll tell you how many LESS of them there are," Hercules chuckled. "Thirteen."

The gargoyle snatched Atlas' gun from his hands with its beak, but he delivered a blow to its temple that sent it tumbling and bouncing down the length of the train. "Eleven!" he called back.

Goliath gave a long growl of a grunt, squeezing the neck of the gargoyle until its head popped off and crumbled into rubble on the roof. "Six," he reported, tossing the headless body away.

"Ha! Last place, runt," Atlas laughed before turning his eyes back towards the sky to brace for his next attacker.

"I might've beat Baum," Goliath insisted, swiping at another incoming gargoyle. It pulled back to avoid the swing that outdid its own reach.

"Baum is special," Hercules cut in politely, kicking the legs out from under one gargoyle. "He's the smart one." Another dug its teeth into his shoulder, not getting so much as a grunt from the hulking brother as he grabbed both ends of its beak and pulled apart until they snapped.

The buzz of a fighter plane flew overhead and they peered up. Baum and Darling's hijacked ride evaded a few tailing gargoyles with some fancy maneuvers, just to sweep over the train again and unload the main machine guns into a three more of them. Darling leveled the rear gun and more rapid cracking noises went off as their followers went down, raining empty shells onto the top of the train car. Baum rolled hard to one side to avoid a diving gargoyle, buzzing low over the car and shouting down to his brothers.

"Twenty two!" he shouted as loud as he could, tossing the old rifle down to Atlas (who caught it on the second bounce).

The boys watched him in quiet for a moment. "He's special," Hercules repeated.

Back in the car, Reinhardt and his wife watched the dents forming in the ceiling from the Beedle brothers' heavy footsteps and piledrove bodies. "They might be a while. How much longer is this ride anyway?"

"Nearly there, sweetheart," Ambrosia assured, refreshing her drink and then quickly re-refreshing it a moment later. "They should have it done by the time we arrive."

Baum's next hail of gunfire blew the wing off one of the gargoyles, letting it crash headfirst into the side of the car and lodging its head inside one of the torn openings. Ambrosia sighed and looked to her husband. "Love of my life, could you get me another bottle?" she chimed sweetly. Reinhardt handed off a bottle of wine, but she shook her head. "An empty one, dear. Waste not, want not." One quick switch later and she smashed it over the thing's head, getting it to recoil instinctively and fall off onto the tracks. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"Just that they can blast down as many as they want of those craggy fiends. Won't do them any good if they don't bring down their queen. She's the brains of it all."

"Aren't they always?" Ambrosia grinned coyly behind her glass of brandy.

There was a piercing shriek in the air above the brothers, and the plane was suddenly frozen in midflight. Another gargoyle had dove down, lined with more spikes and horns than the rest of the bunch. It was twice the size of the biggest of them, kicking up winds that even competed with that of the speeding train. It gave another screech at the plane, ripping off the tail in one massive claw.

"Deathtrap! Called it!" Baum called out, throwing his hand out to Darling. The two leapt out right before the gargoyle queen tore their craft in half. They landed with a roll together along the train's roof, ending up beside the rest of the brothers. The giant she-beast landed with its talons easily digging into the steel of the roof.

"Hey, Baum," Goliath greeted with a wave. "Sorry about  your plane."

"It wasn't mine, Goliath," insisted the shortest of the brothers, helping his wife to her feet before rubbing his tender side.

"Oh! Well, that's good."

"Keep your head on straight, runt," Atlas warned, nudging Goliath in his massive rib. "No room for flanking, and all I've got is this fossil of a gun. How do we get through this one?"

The brothers were quiet for a moment. "Punching?" Darling finally spoke up.

"I do like punching," Goliath agreed.

Hercules added his two cents. "Is wrestling allowed?"

"Sure." Darling shrugged. "We'll play it by ear and see what we end up with."

"Then it sounds like we've got a plan," Atlas grinned, raising his brass-lined dukes.

"Excuse me! Were you all done with the roughhousing?!" The brothers and the gargoyle queen all looked towards the head of the train. Jewel stood just before the entrance of the engineer's car, perched neatly on the ladder as her blonde hair whipped majestically in the wind.

"I think you were looking for this." Jewel unclenched her fist, a golden pendant dotted with jewels falling until the thick chain caught on her fingers. It joined her hair in bouncing through the wind, and the queen instantly started to turn and creep closer to her. Hercules started to move in while it was distracted, but Atlas raised a hand for him to stop.

"Where did you find that?" hissed out the queen with a voice that could grind glass.

"I went poking around that Australian fellow's pockets." She hopped up to the top of the train's car, twirling the pendant and watching how the queen's big red eyes followed its path. "He went snooping where he wasn't supposed to, so it felt proper to do the same to him. Can't let myself get rusty, now can I?"

The queen bore her fangs beneath her beak as she stalked closer still. "Give it here," she gurgled. Jewel didn't budge, at least not until the queen was just outside reaching distance.

"Everyone hold on!" Jewel suddenly turned and leapt onto the engineer's car, landing neatly but having to contort sharply to one side to avoid the stream of steam and smoke. The queen gave another furious screech and took after her with no such precautions. Jewel ran around the smokestack, letting the giant gargoyle come bursting through the smoke unphased. Jewel threw the necklace over the front of the train and herself off one of the sides, catching her arm on a rung of a ladder on her way down. The queen dove and caught the pendant as it went over the side, just for the still speeding train to crash directly into her. A great wing caught on the cow pusher and dragged her in front of it, the train bouncing and rocking wildly as it started to grind her to gravel.

In the meeting hall of the Explorer's Guild, Bull Weevil was just warming up for his speech. He was balding and clean-shaven, but hulking man in his own right, though more fat than muscle at this point in his life. Reinhardt was a blowhard, reckless and stupid. It was wealth, knowledge, and cunning that made an adventurer, not property damage and catchphrases. It was all there in his acceptance speech, and he took the stage, he gestured to his wife, Hazel Leif Weevil, and his boys, Nathan (the Beedles liked to call him Nut), Longinus, and Beech. And finally to his lovely daughter and youngest child Plum, even if she seemed distracted elsewhere. It was a shame that Reinhardt wasn’t here, since he his old rival was the one he'd really wanted to gloat to. Running late as usual.

"And it is on these foundations," he rumbled a few lines in. "That the Guild was founded. That we take the history and nature of our world, and preserve its lessons in-"

He was interrupted by a tremendous, metallic crash that rocked the lodge, getting everyone's heads to turn towards the entrance. Some of the senior members and their bodyguards hurried out to investigate. The rest of the attendees went along for sheer curiosity.

In front of the lodge was the still-steaming train, torn half to pieces and barely still on the track. Reinhardt climbed out with an amused laugh, waving to the crowd of gawking adventurers and upper crust investors. "Sorry for the delay, my old friends!" Reinhardt called to them. "We got into a bit of trouble with, well... traffic, as it were. Nothing my boys couldn't handle though." When people still gawked, he went to the front of the train. He pulled at something just out of sight before he dislodged the cracked and detached head of the gargoyle queen's remains. "And I thought we'd bring something of a generous donation for the guild."

"Beedle, you old scoundrel!" blurted Doctor Uther Wyrm, rolling his wheelchair closer and adjusting his glasses. "Is that really the head of a gargoyle queen?!"

"That, or the world's ugliest speed bump," Reinhardt scoffed, getting a laugh from the approaching crowd. Apart from Bull, of course, who fumed at the interruption to his speech.

The rest of the passengers climbed out behind Reinhardt, letting him soak up all the praise and do all the explaining. Hercules tore off a piece of his coat and lazily wrapped the strip around one of his gargoyle bites. Goliath saw this and looked to his mother (hadn't even spilled her drink), who nodded and allowed him to pull off his own shredded coat. He beamed proudly, but his smile became more sheepish when he met the eye of Plum Weevil in the crowd. The two would spend the next hour just avoiding each other's gaze.

Atlas and Baum grabbed their respective partners. Atlas lifted Jewel off her feet and laughed. "That's my girl! Who says marriage was going to be boring?!"

Baum hugged his petite wife tightly. "We did it!" he confirmed. "We made it out of-"

"If you say 'deathtrap' again, I am going to punch your handsome bloody block off," Darling warned before she kissed him, if nothing else just to shut him up and to get her heart racing for reason besides gargoyles and train wrecks.

THE FIN