ACE OF COINS (Morning Stars Treasures)

Some things are valuable for their use. Others, for some unique facet of their very nature. Some are valuable because they are value made material. Here's twenty of them.

Bonifacio Bembo

Treasures

1. Talents. Massive silver coins the size, shape, and thickness of a dinner plate. A handprint marks the center of the concave side, as if it was pressed into while still soft from the fire. These are said to have been given by the very first Wizard-King to his favored servants, each one a mark of ascension through the ranks. To possess one of these so many centuries later is to borrow a piece of that original legitimacy. 200 SP each, or 400 SP to a would-be Wizard-King.
2. Sea-Gold. Pale electrum coins beaten crudely from small nuggets, worked cold; one face is engraved with numerous writhing sea creatures devouring each other, but the other is left blank. These rarely wash up on the shore, or are traded in isolated villages on the western coast; to carry these regularly marks one as loyal to the cruel and godless sea, and an enemy to all the land. 5 SP each, or 10 SP to the subjects of Queen Dahut.
3. Werikoch (sg. Werik). Solid golden coins with a small hole near the top to thread a cord through; these are often worn as medallions. One face has the head of a king crowned by an aureole, and the other has roosters fighting or crowing at the rising sun; later, more rarely, the head is that of Yohannes the Presbyter. These were, and still are, minted by the Sun Kings of the east to commemorate great occasions: victories in battle, royal births, prosperous harvests. 15 SP each, or 20 SP in the kingdoms they were minted in.
4. Dalers. Silver coins made from wire coiled into a circle and beaten flat. In the days of the Viervorsten, any shrewd merchant knew to count the rings to prevent being cheated by clipping, or they would trade in spools of the wire itself valued by weight. These days, they're an informal currency for criminals and other fringers. 1 SP each, or 5d10 SP still on the spool. Twice as valuable to anyone distrustful of Imperial currency.
5. Naphtha Pearls. Little balls of solidified oil, smooth to the touch but sticky and finger-staining when hot. These are made by the yakshas by some obscured means, and traded widely through the underground as the primary currency and light source. When lit, these pearls burn like a candle for three hours, emit very little smoke, and are stubborn to put out. 1 SP each, a curiosity on the surface and a necessity underground; to someone trapped without light, invaluable.
6. Odontes (sg. Odous). Bronze blades with short handles, leaf-shaped and left without edges. The ophiokorai consider it a virtue to always carry a weapon, so they are paid and trade with these. Making one into a proper knife would take only a hammer and a campfire; affix it to a stout branch, and it could be a spear. 3 SP each; sharpened, worth 5 SP to someone building an army.
7. Epic Textiles. In the far north, sunmen weave these extensive silk tapestries to commemorate their heroes, using them as wall hangings or prayer mats; there is no greater pride than to have your deeds added to your family's tapestry, nor any greater shame than to have yours stolen by a rival. 50 SP each; to a historian, the rightful owners, or someone who hates the rightful owners, 10 additional SP for each story recorded on the tapestry. 
8. Lotus Argent. A rich dye that creates a shimmering, nigh-hypnotic silver which retains its nacreous qualities even on cloth. The dye is vanishingly rare not only because the flower it is derived from exists only in a few select microbiomes, but also because it is a potent deliriant. On inhaling the dust or fumes, or after an hour of direct skin contact, test HRTS or suffer 24 hours of terrifying hallucinations of pareidolic faces and voices indistinguishable from thought. A 1/3rd slot dose is worth 100 SP to artists, aristocrats, and poisoners alike. Anything dyed with Lotus Argent has this value added on top of what it's already worth.
9. Taxidermy. Glass eyes, wooden flesh, skin, teeth, and claws; you are looking at a corpse, mounted and posed. Mere trophies are the domain of scavengers, but to have the whole thing is a mark of supremacy over the beasts of the earth, and they make a fine conversation piece for any house. 50 SP for each HD the creature had in life, twice that for something exceptionally rare, and half that for particularly ratty specimens.
10. Oath Stones. Across the continent, the giants have raised megaliths that have outlived kingdoms; with ownership of this chiseled tablet, you hereby own one of these stones, in part or in whole. Given that the value is in labor and reputation, the rock market is in a state of constant fluctuation. Most investors never see their megalith, and as a matter of fact, there are a number of stones which exist only as a valuable concept on paper. 1d20 to 10d20 SP depending on the size of the share, rerolled each week. Individual dice from this pool of value can be sold off.
11. Seals. Clay cylinders, stone amulets, and gold rings with semiprecious gems. The thing itself is a trinket, but the real value lies in what it symbolizes: legitimacy, worn or carried, owned, inherited, borrowed, or stolen. More kingdoms have risen and fallen than anybody will ever know. Make your mark while you can. 50 SP each as historical items; to someone seeking to usurp a dynasty, living or dead, 200 SP.
12. Perfect Amber. A nodule of thick, cloudy resin as large as a head, polished into a mirror-smooth sphere. Vague shapes sit obscured in the center. It is said these were made in the Mythic Age, a means of perfect preservation of wealth through the ravages of time. Any number of things can be found when these are broken open: royal treasures, personal keepsakes, even living animals now vanished from the earth. 100 SP for an unbroken specimen; broken open, whatever is inside is worth 10d10+50 SP to a specialist collector.
13. Star Children. Black stone, melted and cooled in the shape of a curled infant; the body is twisted, the face hideous, often inhuman. Something so strange could never be born, and it never was; not every falling star can birth a god, so these things are often found where meteors fall. Sleep near one, and you'll dream their dreams: falling through stars forever, without form and void. Worth 300 SP to cultists of the Invisible Ones; Negationists will pay the same to take it off your hands and destroy it, though half of their payment is in armaments and explosives. Neither react well to being turned down.
14. Shabby Men. Little stone figurines depicting dog-headed men standing at attention, carrying small tools at their side. These things came from far away, gifts from the elusive cynocephali; each one has circulated far and wide, worn smooth by passage through many hands. You could theoretically sell them for 5 SP each, but the true value is that each figure can be exchanged for a day's labor from the occupation the figurine depicts; swords for soldiers, hammers for masons, axes for woodcutters, hoes for farmers, bare hands for general physical laborers, et cetera. These are as binding as any other currency, but widely-honored by most guilds and other professional organizations.
15. Boat Sarcophagi. Thick hardwood boats with high sides and a solid lid, lacquered and banded in gold. In the early days of the empire, some displaced nobles would send their dead out to sea in these coffins, and they would return to the shore empty; gone to meet the queen, they'd say, and raise a toast over water. Such traitors were rooted out long ago, yet the sarcophagi still wash ashore. Don't worry about finding a buyer; they'll find you. Worth 2000 SP that you'd do well to not refuse.
16. The Icons of Menelik. Beautifully painted and detailed icons of the Saints, tempera and gold leaf on carved teak wood triptychs. Menelik was one of the finest painters of the twelfth century, a pupil to the master Aberash; these icons were his final work, as he only produced a handful of each before being one of the first people ever killed by a powder magazine explosion. In spite of only living to see JUSTICE, it's said that each of his icons has hints of the Saints that would come after. To a collector, 600 SP; to a church, 400 SP and 4 MD of miracles. 
17. Fealty Chains. Thin golden rings, small ones linked on larger ones, those larger rings linked to larger ones still, and so on; each one bears an inscribed name, and with it, a title. The vast hierarchies of the Great Wall of the Djinn are laid out in these rings, from wretched beggar monarchs to the Kings of the Days themselves, and any firstborn worth their name will be buried with theirs. The largest link is always that of the owner's. 50+5d20 SP for petty nobles, 200+5d100 SP for kings , or 500+10d100 SP for kings of kings; the Kings of the Days' would be worth more money than you could count. 
18. Seeing Nails. A foot-long platinum nail, wide and flat like a blade, capped with a shining diamond lense. Many years ago on the Isle of Yonah, a group of monks sought enlightenment through a literal opening of the mind; by parting the brain in two and filtering the outside in, one could become one with God. Many, but not all, died in the process- enough to leave a surplus, and enough to tempt imitators down the same path, unknowing of the proper rites. 1000 SP to a collector; those seeking enlightenment would swear to serve you for life if you could drive the nail through their forehead without killing them. 
19. Small God Polemics. Manuscripts, codices and scrolls, written and illuminated by fervent hands then filled by marginalia with the passage of years. There is no index or glossary, nor any map of the work but the thing itself. Precious little is understood of the nature of the gods, and that precious little is speculated on extensively in these volumes through theory, allegory, and no shortage of personal attacks on people who have been dead for centuries. 400 SP, or twice that to whatever sect holds the text as doctrine- or to their enemies, who would destroy it.
20. Moonglass. Smooth, milky glass droplets without bubbles or other imperfections; staring into one, you feel something else looking back in your reflection. Although superstition holds that only one of these forms on earth during each full moon, nobody is actually certain where these come from; what is certain, however, is that fairies love these things. Presenting one is one of the few ways to get them to not pull you apart to see how you work. Worth 2000 SP to someone insane or desperate enough to deal with the bornless ones. For fairies, the trade is simpler: one drop for a single service rendered. One perfect little wish, just as you want it.

The Collector 

High Priest Abera is a man of wealth and taste, a prince in all but name thanks to his position as one of the church's bankers; in theory, much of the money he handles isn't his, but in practice, there are very few people alive with the authority to tell him no, especially not now. He is a celebrated man, widely-liked, knowing of and known by many; Abera's spending habits seem to be limitless, yet he has never yet run out of money. Of course, he must be discerning when choosing his associates and agents; his informal social club has two alternate fees for entry. The first is a simple gift: a unique treasure worth at least 100 SP, something he hasn't gotten yet, so nothing on this list. The other is to collect on debts owed to him; given his clientele, this isn't legbreaking paupers for small change, but burglarizing aristocrats for their family heirlooms or cleaning out failed business ventures. He'd rather you not kill anybody, given the fuss that causes, but if they didn't want to pay, maybe they shouldn't have borrowed all that money.

Those initiated into his circle are given a ring with an open silver hand that has a golden bead in its palm; from then on, High Priest Abera will always give the best price for any artefact presented to him, and freely gives tips as to where hidden valuables might be found. The one thing he doesn't invest in are Oath Stones- ironically, there is very little stability in rocks. As a banker, he also has the means to extend massive loans as well as the wide-reaching authority to collect on them, usually with a squad of experienced adventurers not unlike you.

High Priest Abera is a fat easterner of middle age, always bespectacled, with one eye that looks much larger than the other- in fact, because one of his lenses doubles as a jeweler's loupe. He speaks eloquently, with a form of quaint, measured informality that makes the low-class feel respected and the high-class feel familiar; expect to be called "my dear boy" a lot, or similar. He is a Priest AB, promoted to high priesthood more for his aptitude with money than for numinous power, and it's very rare that he wears any of the vestments besides the fillet. Abera avoids combat whenever possible. If someone wrongs him, he doesn't have to fight them; he'll just tell everybody that he knows that they're a cheat, or a murderer, or whatever they actually did to him, and word will travel fast.

There's much speculation as to what all Abera's investments are going to. Some think he's making a bid for Hierophancy, given the last one is either missing or dead. Some say he's bankrolling the ailing Archduke Hate-Evil II so he can be true power behind that throne. He's considered both. But sometimes, when he goes down into that vault alone, past the spring-razors, boulders, shotguns, and spike pits, he just sits there in its very center and feels the value encompass him on all sides like the heart of a fire. The Presbyter himself said that in his time, all of life's experience was measured in blood and gold- how much of that holds true today? Could a man climb to heaven on a mountain of gold, and count the treasures of the First and Last?