He managed to search two shelves before he had to stop to rest, but at least he turned up some cheese and dried mushrooms. Combined with some of the dried meat he was able to yank from the ceiling, it wasn't a bad meal, and improved his mood somewhat.
Slowly climbing to his feet again, he started searching the shelves on the opposite side, poking as well as he could through every box, bundle, jar, and well, well, well. That explained the lock. What he'd mistaken for more cloth-wrapped packets of cheese were in fact coins. Not just any coins either: Remnien royal maltas. Each was worth five thousand sens, the lowest denomination in Remnien. Most people wouldn't see a single malta in their lifetime, let alone the twenty-five he was currently starring at. And there were at least twenty-odd more of the packets that he could see. This much money wasn't usually seen outside of a royal treasury. This was fund an army moneyor much, much worse.