Ser Jorren looked over his shoulder as the Sprintfall knight emptied the purse into his gloved palm. Eight silver coins fell from the leather bag as Ser Don moved them around to budget for the weeks ahead - Six Silver Stars could buy them both salt meats and hardtack for the week, but forty eight could feed the wandering pair well. The young errant's mind drifted to coins of gold. he'd seen one once, a Golden Sun stamped with the dead King's image, it had been in a woodcutter