A mountainous heap of miscellaneous COINS, TOKENS, and MEDALS; it nearly piles up to your waist. All sorts of denominations comprise the hoard, each dulled and worn in its own unique fashion. You consider yourself something of a connoisseur of coinage, being especially proud of the THIRTY-POUND MEDALLION OF PURE LEAD sat atop the pile. Snagged that little devil from a flighty quack some four years ago, claimed it could heal all wounds ten times the pace of any ointment. You briefly consider taking it with you on your escapade, only to remember that you already keep a much more modest FIFTEEN-POUND MEDALLION OF PURE LEAD in your coat pocket.

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