Properly speaking, in my setting, a copper standard is probably the most likely base coinage. 10 gp (or rather, 10 dinars) is a week's unskilled, mundane labor (porters, cleaners, servers, that sort of thing), meaning a week's rent can't possibly be more than about half that for a middling-cheap place to live, and mundane goods and services still less. It would thus make a lot more sense if this translated to 1000 fulus (singular fals), copper coins, possibly with half- or even quarter-penny denominations for small things (e.g. a quarter-fals bag of candy for a child). Bigger-scale prices might use silver dirhams, e.g. a carriage-ride across the city might be 2 dirhams, while a basic afternoon meal is probably 1 dirham. A full dinar will get you a quality meal at a mid-range restaurant, and 10 dinars will get you fine dining at a posh restaurant.
Ordinary folk live by these numbers. Adventurers aren't ordinary folk. To them, throwing around 100 dinars--the equivalent of over two months' pay for a day-laborer--is par for the course. They carry treasure worth hundreds of dinars, and that makes them a target...but after you've fended off a thief or two, word gets around, especially if you're friends with a Robin Hood-type "noble" prince of thieves. Doubly so when you're generous with the funds you bring in and take on jobs for no pay to help poor folk.
And even with the players being pretty damn rich by ordinary folks' standards? They're still small potatoes compared to the bigwig merchant princes, who can throw down a thousand dinars on a bet and not even sweat if they lose it. Sure, that might be 8%, 10% of their current liquid wealth, but they lose amounts like that on ordinary business ventures. (One merchant in particular paid something like 15,000 dinars for a priceless gem, the Desert Rose ruby; that tapped out most of his liquid finances, but he owns half the alchemy shops in town and basically all the paper-makers and printers in a city teeming with scholars and wizards. He's not gonna miss 15,000 dinars even though that's easily five times the total combined accumulated wealth of the entire party, or nearly 30 years of day labor without spending a dime on anything else.)
It's all a matter of scale. Being an adventurer is insanely dangerous and tends to get people killed. It's also quite profitable if you can pull it off. Our party has done so with aplomb. But it's also nowhere near as profitable as the long, mercantile game. The party could retire in indolence if they wished, investing their money and becoming effectively landed gentry; they've met a former adventurer who did exactly that. (He bestowed his old adventuring coat on the party Bard; it's a leather duster that has tiny, enchanted, feather-light plates sown between the leather and the silk lining, making it unnaturally durable and damage-resistant for leather.)