"I dunno, it was obvious to me," he shrugs. "Anyway, those are kind of trivial, the big one is minting and you'd get way less use out of that than me. You can have it anyway if you want, it's just a hex, hexes are cheap." He fans out a progression of coins in his hand, from triangle up to seven-pointed star, all made of what looks like clear glass veined with thick twisting streaks of colour. The streaks move, slowly but visibly. "Arbitrary magic fueled by pain. You touch a coin and make a wish and if it's a big enough coin and it's not a specifically impossible wish, wish comes true. Anybody can wish on 'em but only mints can make 'em. These are all mine."