DM screen for Sale (One extremely careless owner)

The rich just keep getting richer

It's seven days later and after being reunited for a few days, the world-saving adventurers are relaxing at a table in their Inn: 'The Hole in the wall'. The table is loaded with food, ale and wine and everyone is happy and relaxed.
With the profit made by Sereena selling all the remaining unwanted magical loot, none of them will ever go hungry again. Frankly, they have so much, they could probably buy up a large proportion of Nom Pariel itself!
While laughing at their embarrassment of riches, a young courier turns up at their table.
"Excuse me sires. My Master has requested your presence at his townhouse tomorrow morning."
A few moments of confusion resolves itself with the realisation that this is to do with an investment they made months ago with Montebank; the silk trader.
Despite not really remembering how much they'd invested, Nitendae, Volkon and Bastien turn up at the mansion around noon the next day. There are guards at the door but upon being told of the invitation, usher the three adventurers inside.
After being escorted to a plush 'business' room, you reintroduce yourself to the silk merchant and his middle-aged but still very attractive wife.
He spreads his hands wide as he greets you.
"My friends, I am so very happy to meet you again and under such profitable circumstances."
As you talk, fine wine and sweet meats are brought in on silver platters and in glass decanters.
"After your combined, initial investment of 300 gold coins, I'm pleased to inform you that, after costs and fees, your profit is 1,500 gold!"
Volkon can't conceal his grin. Before he'd left his homelands, he'd have happily killed for a fraction of such a vast amount of gold. Now though, it seems like mere grains of sand in the desert.
The silk merchant continues on though...
"You could take it now... Or, you could reinvest it in my next trading caravan?"

Volkon: +600gp

Bastien: +600gp

Nitendae: +600gp

Spending spree vs profits

The Party had a nice little, unfettered spending spree in Nom Pariel before buying fresh horses and riding on to Fewham. I was perhaps a little generous but why not considering it was the last game?

Aside from the multiple potions, Volkon bought a Ring of protection +2 and Nitendae bought some Leather armour +3 and a Composite Longbow +3 (Strength: 14)

Total spend from joint funds: 42,560gp

Horses, bits and bridles etc: 255gp

All unwanted magical and masterwork looted stuff from previous adventures (and sold for half price): 64,909gp

Total remaining profit: 22,094gp

Shared six ways:

Nitendae: 4,910gp

Volkon: 4,909gp

Bastien: 4,909gp

Sereena: 2,456gp

Demitasse: 2,455gp

Marlon: 2,455gp

Cute meet

It's just three days after the Party had split, that they reunite.
Although they'd travelled nearly a thousand miles back to Nom Pariel, Sereena, Marlon and Demitasse, had been reassured of their friend's success and survival and are all in good spirits.
Their phantom steeds dismissed, they walk through the sturdy new doors of the completely renovated 'Hole in the Wall' to see Rosey, Volkon, Nitendae and Bastien sitting around one of the bigger tables. Their laughter is infectious and Marlon joins in, despite not knowing what they're laughing about.
Sereena and Demitasse hand Marlon a gold coin each.
Demitasse smiles ruefully.
"That's one bet I'm more than happy to lose."
The three new arrivals run up, as the four at the table, stand up.
Words are temporarily lost amongst the hugs and back-slapping, until finally questions from both sides are asked and answered in a flurry.
Rosey signals to one of her waitresses and soon the table's heaving with a selection of hot food and cool drinks.
After about two hours of drinking, eating and tale-telling, Marlon reaches into his pocket and returns Demitasse and Sereena's gold coins along with another two to match.
Sereena smiles; True, Volkon had died but, thanks to the grey elf Soffic's mystical boon, he'd lived again to tell the tale.

Racing to Redundancy

After a night camping beneath the stars, Demitasse wakes the others with mugs of steaming hot coffee.
It was amazing the amount of stuff Issack had hidden away in his magical, nonsensical pockets!
Marlon emerges from his tent, bleary-eyed and sluggish, while Sereena looks fresh faced and beautiful.
Forehead furrowed, Demitasse addresses the young sorceress.
"I've been thinking about what you said last night and I've prepared a sending spell to see if we can contact Bastien and the others."
Sereena smiles and Marlon can't help smiling himself at the sight of it.
"That's a wise idea. If he doesn't respond, at least we'll know that they're all dead and we don't need to rush."
Marlon looks confused.
"How would you know they're ALL dead? Might'n it just be Bastien?"
Both Sereena and Demitasse sigh in response but it's the young witch who answers.
"There's no way Volkon would survive if Bastien hadn't."
Marlon persists though.
"OK, Volkon's a bit reckless but Surely Nite' would?"
Demitasse takes it this time.
"If they got into a situation from which Bastien couldn't magically escape from, the elf's skills wouldn't be of much help."
The bulky Marlon stands up and towers over his two, much smaller companions.
"Send your magic message if you want then but I bet you a gold coin each that not one of them died!"

The Lord's of Light, Right and Might!

About half a day ago...

Finally the call had come.
Since their last instruction from the joint trinity of their three individual church leaders, all twenty-one of them had been camped less than an hours ride from an outlying, smallish town.
Nothing had been clearly explained to them but they all knew their duty and had absolute faith in their gods and their mission.
Seven Paladins from each of the orders of Pelor, St Cuthbert and Kord made up this holy battalion.
Three proud companies of men serving together for the sake of all humanity.
Shouting well drilled instructions, Lord Ponificius; leads the combined brotherhood of heavily armoured holy knights as they charge as one, on their powerful war-horses toward Fewham.
They don't know what they'll face when they get there but, whatever it is, their victory is certain and sure to be glorious!

Meanwhile, a thousand miles away

As soon as Bastien, Nitendae and Volkon disappearate, Sereena rolls up her gossamer sleeves and jangles her bangles.
Smokey, summoned, ghost-like horses appear one after another until all three stand patiently for Marlon, Demitasse and Sereena to stow Issack's left behind gear.
Once mounted, the pretty young sorceress leans back in the saddle and shouts "Hold on tight!", before spurring her phantom steed onward.
Despite having an inkling of the potential speed of these ghost horses, all three of them are shocked by their velocity.
None have them have ever travelled at anywhere near this rate!
Still, they grip the reins within their fists, squeeze their knees as tightly as they can manage and simply try to hold on for dear life.
Fortunately, the ride is surprisingly smooth. Demitasse struggles to rationalise this, until he realises the reality of his situation. The magical phantom steeds are effectively flying and although it seems as if they're galloping, their smoke-like hooves aren't really touching the ground!
After about seven blurred-by hours, the misty-grey horses slow to a canter, a trot and then to a stop, giving Marlon, Demitasse and Sereena plenty of time to dismount and unload their belongings.
As the horses evaporate, Demitasse turns to Sereena.
"Do you think the others have arrived at Fewham yet?"
Sereena considers the question...
"It's been nearly eight hours. They'll probably all be dead by now. Volkon definitely!"

Marlon looks up and adds, sulkily, 

"Well at least HE got a kiss before dying."

A Fewham good men

After ascertaining that the remainder of Lady Sybille's manor house is safe and free from any remaining undead, Captain Dunn leads his sergeants Slater and Indigo back out into the streets of Fewham.
It's apparent that the Death cultists have fled, but scores of the animated skeletons remain and are still aimlessly wandering around.
Annoyingly, the Death-cultists had dragged the evil ranger Awrongun's corpse away, along with all his remaining stuff. Still, Volkon had managed to snag his weird, shimmery cloak and Nitendae had taken his powerful, magical longbow.
Shouting for any and all remaining town guards to come out of hiding, and with the aid of Volkon, Bastien and Nitendae, Dunn, despite his advancing years, shows why he's still captain of the Fewham guards.
Without intelligent leadership, the skeletons fight without reason or self regard and as Captain Dunn and the others start to hack them down, other guards emerge from their hiding places, alongside some of the braver townsfolk.
Mindless as they are, it doesn't take long before the last of the skeletal undead are smashed and the town free again.

Awrongun's equipment:

Cloak of Displacement (Minor) : Taken by Volkon

Composite Longbow +3 (Strength 16) Taken by Nitendae (But then later sold for lots for cash)

A Wight carry on

Once everyone is ready, the beefy Volkon and Bastien drag back the piled up furniture. They try to be quiet but it's an impossible ambition.

With the heavily armoured War-priest on one side and the seemingly oiled up Barbarian on the other, Captain Dunn pulls open the double doors.

...

There's a moment when the eight chalk-faced, undead Wights standing there, lock eyes with the adventurers over the space of the few feet between them.
Both groups knew what to expect. Unable to break through the blocked door, the creepily quiet and supernaturally patient undead, simply awaited the adventurers return and the adventurers, having encountered the Wights previously, knew they'd probably still be there.
The moment seems to stretch out until suddenly, an arrow flys from Nitendae's bow and hits the closest Wight dead between the eyes...
Without their rune-stitched leaders though, these recently risen Wights, though ferocious, fail to pierce Bastien's plate-mail armour with their claw-like fingernails or manage to slip under Volkon's great-sword defence.
The half-elf Nitendae allows himself a tight-lipped smile, as he picks off the undead, one by one, from the safety offered by his two human friends.
He's glad they won't have to pursue them back through the fortified mansion. Undead care nothing for self preservation or even their own existence and generally attack until either they're destroyed or you're dead.

Coming out of the closet

Aware of the potential danger, Nitendae exploits his sensitive, elven ears and listens intently through the secret door at the back of the heavy dresser.

...

Nothing.

No sound that the undead (and frankly terrifying) Wights had managed to breach the makeshift barricade behind the main doors.

Once back in the main chamber, Bastien and Volkon stand guard behind it regardless. They're both acutely aware that no outside help is likely to arrive in the next few hours, if not days! 

The Paladin Lords of 'Light, Right and Might' were the only hope of that and considering their unwillingness to flee and how badly they'd faired, they're certainly all dead by now.

Bastien snorts derisively, despite himself.
Back in the alchemy chamber, Lady Sybille recites from one of her remaining scrolls and colour returns to Captain Dunn's jowly cheeks. With his back straight and the ruddiness returned to his face, he looks much more like his former silver-haired soldierly self.

Scrolls, Potions and Half-truths

Passing through the secret alchemy chamber, Bastien notices Lady Sybille's shoulders stiffen at the sight of her opened cupboards and looted stocks of scrolls and potions.
Slightly embarrassed, he apologises and signals Nitendae to return everything that wasn't used.
"Forgive us your ladyship. We took them only in the hope they might have assisted us in your rescue."
The beautiful women pauses for just a moment.
"Some of these potions and scrolls have enabled me to retain my secret over the decades. A secret I fear, I must maintain forever."
Captain Dunn coughs.
"Don't concern yourself my Lady. The lads and I have been talking and we think we've figured out why you look so young and we don't mind in the slightest. It's nothing to be ashamed of... You, you're like the boy here... You're a Half-elf!"
Nitendae's jaw tightens at an unbidden memory. No half-elf could bleed so long or freely as he'd seen Lady Sybille do on that sacrificial altar.
Whatever she was, it wasn't an elf.

When a hundred thousand gold just isn't enough

Looking around, Bastien does a quick head count...
Nitendae was at the back but obviously struggling with his heavy chest.
The plate-mail clad cleric is about to send the muscley and unencumbered Volkon back down to help the slightly built elf, when they both hear the reassuringly repetitive grind, bump and jingle sound of a wooden box full of coins being pushed up stone steps.
As soon as the elf's pointed eared head pops into view, Volkon pulls a knowing expression.
Nitendae smirks in response and nods over his shouder to Issack; the magical backpack.
"She said we couldn't take any more of HER treasure but I couldn't just let the paladin; Ubriz' magical sword and armour just lay there... Could I?"

Ubriz: Paladin of St Cuthbert:

Long sword +1 
Heavy metal shield +1

Sybille, you got some splainin' to do!

With a simple gesture, Lady Sybille opens the time release, stone slab door and strides from her, previously secret, treasure room.
Bastien notes that the tauric-like stone golem is immobile once more, with its crystalline hand thrust back through the wall between chambers.
The three adventurers follow, dragging their magically summoned chests of gold.
Once on the other side, the still waiting Captain Dunn and his underlings; Slater and Indigo, fall to their knees.
"My Lady! Thank the gods you're still alive!"
Lady Sybille smiles but instinctively covers her face. It's too late though, as all three of the men can't disguise their confusion at her youthful appearance.
Sighing, she realises that an explanation is in order.
"Come Captain, let us head back upstairs. I have some curing magics and there is... much I need to tell you."
Struggling up the seemingly endless stone stairwell, six of them finally make it back to Lady Sybille's private suite.