Location: Lord Shellie's Fortress
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Lord Shellie's fortress stands as a testament of power and boldness. Its white stone brick contrasted with the burnt nature of the volcano top, and its proximity to such danger, spoke of the lord's confidence. It is considered one of the most difficult places to enter. You'd have to be a mad lad or lass to even try.
A river of magma surrounds the fortress like a moat. They flowed down from lavafalls created by the overhang of masonry that captured Lord Shellie's visage.
The most straightforward approach into the fortress included driving up the go kart track that wrapped the volcano. It ended near a drawbridge that stretched over the lava moat to the fortress.
Patrols of shellies, chumps, bobs, and billies stuck to a tight shift to guard the drawbridge and perimeter. They were stationed throughout the fortress, along the battlements, and out near cliff faces. Lackatoes hovered near corners, their cameras rolling. The security feeds were overseen from a command center within the fortress.
With all that in mind, Lord Shellie found himself comfortable. In one of the top rooms of the fortress, the large shellie fit himself in a white tuxedo. Its slick design bulged from his broad form. His spiky shell punctured the back of the tuxedo. A gentleman's top hat with a red wrap was within arm's reach.
The room had the accommodations of a high-end dressing room. Grand displays of furniture and bright chandeliers gave the place a noble feel. Lord Shellie used a vanity mirror to adjust the red bowtie under his gullet.
"Soon, my darling, we shall be wed," Lord Shellie sighed with fantastical love in his heart. The low growl in his voice was softened with Persica in mind.
"Ah, what a day to be married. You are so very fortunate, my lord," a cranky, elderly voice said from behind. There were licks of sarcasm and fear in their tone.
"Right you are, Cammy," Lord Shellie practiced his smile. His draconic row of teeth gleaned in the light. He glanced back at the shellie mage. She currently worked tooth and nail to clean the room. She used a tiny, worn toothbrush to scrub the floorboard molding. Not a speck was meant to be left – all for Persica's happiness.
Lord Shellie whimsically sighed, "Consider yourself lucky, Cammy. Unlike Kammy and Qammy, you did not raise your magic against my sweetheart."
"I am so lucky, your highness," Cammy groveled. Technically, being in her lord's presence was leagues better than her sisters' punishment, "As much as I'd love to make Persica's wedding dress, aiding you is so much more pleasurable."
Lord Shellie snorted, "All will feel the same once Persica is my wife. She will be a proper queen, and together, we will conquer all of Chanterelle! Gamer and the others are too busy racing at the resort to even bother us. He may be capable, but easily distractible."
"He races like a demon," Cammy grumbled, since she saw the race thanks to the lackatoes. She recalled his quick rise to dethroning her, and it made her shiver.
"The lackatoes were wiped out there at the end. But that's alright; he's too late. And my troops haven't reported anything amiss. Ah, what a day, what a day."
"Yes, my lord. You are very fortunate, my lord," Cammy rained appraisal. She swayed and wiggled with each stroke of the brush. She hoped to garner some pitied attention.
"I've noticed a change in Persica, though," Lord Shellie meandered over to a window. He cast his gaze to the horizon, "For as long as I've known her, she's been a quiet, drug-addled moneygrabber. The perfect woman, but now she's more...lively. More opinionated."
"An astute observation, my lord. Mayhaps she's become too much of a harlot in Gamer's presence and..." Cammy crowed, but a death glare from Lord Shellie shut her up. She scrubbed faster and harder with her head down.
"Bah, the sooner we're married, the sooner we'll be back to the status quo. Once I have control of her and Chanterelle, the sky's the limit. We'll rule the stars!" Lord Shellie raised a claw to the sky and declared with dramatic flare. That's when he noticed the triangle symbol above his castle, "The Proforce? Why is that up there?"
"It must be Hero and Sellda's doing!" Cammy snipped.
"Something's off. The symbol only appears when all three Highrulian artifacts are in one place. I'll have to speak to Princess Sellda about this development. If Gamindorf is here...I'm going to rawr."
"Hot..." hearts bubbled out of Cammy's head.
"I will not have my wedding day ruined. Persica, my sweet..." Lord Shellie's agitation switched to adoration when his love came to mind. He fluttered out of the room.
"Persica, you lucky bitch..." Cammy whimpered.
Lord Shellie stomped down the hallway. It was only an hour from the wedding. He sought to meet the invited guests and check on their status, especially Sellda.
Every few portraits were just Lord Shellie striking a cool or badass pose. It reminded Lord Shellie that Lord Shellie was the best in the land. Far better than his troops, who were mysteriously not patrolling the halls or outside on the battlements.
"Where are my troops? Lazy bums! Just because I'm in a good mood doesn't mean they can slack off," Lord Shellie breathed out small spits of flames. "I'll have to pencil in a really mean rally to scold them. That'll teach them a lesson."
Lord Shellie arrived in the guest quarters, a corridor of doors littered with cozy, welcoming rooms. He knocked on the first door.
When it opened, a king at much the same girth as Lord Shellie answered. The king resembled a green crocodile, with one bugged, bloodshot eye and a tiny golden crown on his head. Gold plating covered his fat belly and chest like armor, and a long red cape noted his kingliness.
Lord Shellie greeted with a nod, but kept his chin raised, "King Kruel, I hope you are enjoying the accommodations!"
Kruel made growling noises, and not actual words. Lord Shellie understood the meaning behind the jabbering, "Good morrow, Sir Shellie! Loving the fruit basket! By Jove, I must say, you have fantastic taste in cutlery. I may pillage some for my cabin."
"Fine by me," Lord Shellie chuckled. "There will be plenty to go around once I marry Persica. She and I shall claim the land, and with our strengthened alliance, you will conquer the seas."
"Hear, hear!" Kruel snarled. "Tis the golden era of piracy, my friend. Especially with those rotten dongs out of the way!"
The dongs were a major pain in the neck for King Kruel over the years. They were apes who collected golden bananas, and had a semi-successful society in the jungles and islands to the east. They didn't last long against Lord Shellie.
Lord Shellie left King Kruel and the rotund lizardman slammed the door politely. The next door, a little farther and on the opposite side of the hall, was where Lord Shellie went next. He knocked, and heard clattering and tearing from within. It took a moment for the guest to answer, but when they did, Lord Shellie was greeted by another dragon. This dragon appeared lithe compared to the lord, with an alien, purple body. It technically towered over Lord Shellie, but was hunched to fit in the room. Its wings were momentarily caught on the chandelier in the room, and the cotton innards from the torn-up furniture informed Lord Shellie of the creature's struggles in the confined space.
"Uh...fitting in, Ripley?" Lord Shellie made a punny.
The purple dragon roared with a shrill pitch, and slammed the door impolitely. Lord Shellie frowned at the treatment, and barely heard King Kruel bark from his own room, "Goodness gracious!"
Lord Shellie stomped over to the next door with a sour disposition. He huffed, and then intently knocked. Quiet steps approached from the other side, and the door opened slightly. The one to answer was a striking, feminine male. Thin but fit, he wore a green tunic, leather boots, and a long, pointy green hat. His blonde hair was put back in a ponytail, and his ears were pointy like an elf's. The man wore a bizarre mask that covered all of his face. It had spikes protruding from the sides and top, and wide open, wild eyes. Its mixture of reds, purples, and greens gave it a hypnotic pattern.
"Oh, hi, Hero...nice mask...I guess," Lord Shellie had never seen the mask before. It gave him the creeps. Hero didn't respond, and instead 'stared'. Behind Hero, Lord Shellie could see an elegant, elven woman standing near the windows of the guest room. She wore a form-fitting dress with a white, purple, and gold color scheme. Her braided brown hair flowed perfectly behind her elven ears. Like Hero, she wore a headpiece that covered a large portion of her face. Unlike Hero's, hers was like a stone crown, with glowing green veins etched into it. Lord Shellie was more concerned about the dark, ominous aura that flowed upwards out of her.
"Princess Sellda, I wanted to thank you for providing us with so much cow milk," Lord Shellie spoke to break the ice. Hero and Sellda were not invited for him, but for his betrothed. Persica's ability to connect with others proved valuable. However, neither really responded to him. He found it rude, and dropped the act, "Look, you're my guests, so I'm trying to be courteous here. I noticed the Proforce over the fortress. It's a cute trick, but doesn't that mean you have Gamindorf's artifact with you? What's that about, huh?"
"Our business is none of your business," Sellda said in a very tacit tone. Hero followed the cue and valiantly slammed the door before Lord Shellie's rebuttal.
"Why I oughta..." Lord Shellie gathered fire in his maw, but a rumble drew his attention. A crash and multiple thuds alerted him to one of the other guest rooms. He shelved the elven problem for now, and chose to relate his frustration to Persica later. He moved over to the troubled room and opened the door.
Inside, the guest room no longer acted as a room, but a ramshackle patio. The back wall was blown out, and the furniture burnt with small fires. Burn marks circled the center of the room, and near the epicenter was a short nun. The nun wore red robes that covered all of her body and a gas mask that hid her face. Blonde bangs stuck out from the top of the mask, in much the same bang formation as Minnie. She gazed out towards the horizon.
"What is going on here?!" Lord Shellie roared.
His bass made the nun jump and turn. She gasped at the sight of him, and barely answered, "L-L-Lord Shellie, it's you..."
"Yes, it's me."
"I'm not Minnie!"
"I don't care. I don't even know a Minnie. Why is one of my clergy up here and not at the chapel?"
Minnie paused for a second, and explained, "I'm...well...I came to check up on the well-being of our guests, sir. Y-Yeah! The two people in this room were busy with some kind of machine. They were talking about bobs and billies, while messing with the contraption. I tried helping, and the whole thing exploded. I...only doubled their trouble. They shot away on the rocket thing while screaming 'We're blasting off again!'."
Lord Shellie slapped his forehead and sighed, "Rocket-addicted buffoons. Whatever, that's two less mouths to feed. Clean this mess and return to the chapel! I will not have my wedding day ruined!"
"Yes, sir!" Minnie saluted.
Lord Shellie left the unimportant nun to her work. He closed the door to hide the shame of his guests. He collected himself, steadied his nerves, and moved on. After spanning a hallway and hanging a right, he slowed to a stop in front of an opulent door. Its gaudy doorframe marked its importance.
Lord Shellie waited in the silence and listened. He heard the low murmur of Princess Persica on the other side. He hadn't seen her since last night. Kammy and Qammy were tasked in suiting her up with a bride's gown.
"Oh, my sweet peach, it'd be wrong of me to enter and see you before the wedding," Lord Shellie blushed. He tapped his nails together bashfully, "I can't possibly peep. But, then again, I wouldn't be a good villain if I followed the rules...bwah hah hah!"
Lord Shellie gingerly opened the door and peeked his snout into Persica's room. As expected, she wore a gorgeous wedding dress. It swooshed to the side like a mermaid's tail, and revealed much of a garter-strapped leg. The corset hugged her torso. She bore her shoulders, and had on elbow long gloves. Instead of a veil, large white flowers accessorized her dreads, and the petals draped over her face. Makeup dolled her up with vivid colors.
What ruined the scene and flabbergasted Lord Shellie were the two knocked out shellie mages. Kammy and Qammy were sprawled over the vanity couch like wet towels. In front of Persica was Gamer, who fiddled with zipping up his jeans.
"It's not my fault somebody sabotaged my zipper and my penis conveniently flops out," Gamer responded defensively to Persica.
"I'm assured beyond reasonable doubt you're the one who sabotaged it," Persica crossed her arms.
"Moi?!" Gamer's overdramatized the accusation.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Lord Shellie barged in. Gamer and Persica both jumped at the irate dragon.
Gamer screamed, pulled out his magnum, and shot Lord Shellie. The thunderous bang caused Persica to flinch and cover her ears. The bullet pinged and deflected off the lord's chest. Lord Shellie was unmoved and perplexed by the ineffectiveness.
"Gamer! What was that?" Persica asked, perplexed by his new weapon. It reminded her of the billies.
"I fired a warning shot...at his heart," Gamer narrowed his eyes.
"Enough!" Lord Shellie approached. "I want to know exactly how you got past all my defenses without raising an alarm."
"What are you talking about?" Gamer stomped up to Lord Shellie. "Your wedding is the reason everybody is acting weird!"
"Moi?!" Lord Shellie stepped back, aghast.
Persica massaged the bridge of her nose, and directed at Gamer, "Please, explain the situation. Even I'm confused after what you've briefly told me."
Gamer grinned, "Oh ho, sit back and grab some popcorn..."