When Ryan woke up the next morning, he did felt like he'd been run over by a cart, multiple times. His skull ached like someone was pressing a boot on his head and his body was cramped from sleeping of the unforgiving wooden floors.

"Rats arse," Ryan cursed with a grimace, his voice hoarse and as dry as sandpaper.

He tried to stand and his body let out a few involuntary pops here and there as it adjusted to finally being up. Every joint creaked in protest, reminding him of the abuse he'd put himself through the night before. The floorboards seemed to agree with his joints as they creaked with every movement he made.

His entire body hurt but not as much as his head, at that point he considered promising himself that he'll never drink again but what the heck, he knew and was sure that he'd end up back here sooner or later at least this time he didn't have to rush to the bathroom to puke his guts out.

"Veron's clangers," Ryan growled as he turned his eyes to the glare of the morning sun coming through his open window. The light kept seeping in at a rate that was nothing but inconvenient for him.

He quickly made sure to walk towards the bed and clear it, throwing empty potion bottles and what not to the floor, he plopped down on the rickety bed that immediately creaked ominously upon receiving his weight.

Here I am again, without direction. Only a little bit of progress in one direction and yet I have fallen back into my old ways.

He couldn't really blame himself, it was a habit, of course he'd fall back into it on the first sign of temptation. The familiar warmth of the alcohol, the camaraderie of the tavern, the temporary forgetfulness of his troubles - it was all to easy to fall back into, a decision that he was currently paying for.

"Come on Ryan, Build your Legacy, or do you want to be a small time merchant till the day that you die…" Ryan muttered to himself trying to spark something within himself, something to motivate him to get off his arse.

And so with that pep talk to motivate him for the day Ryan stood up and the events of the night finally hit him like a bottle on the head and better believe that Ryan knew what that felt like... He couldn't even believe the stupid thing he'd done the night before. A wave of nausea passed through him and it had nothing to do with the after effects of the alcohol rioting in his system.

Feeling around his pockets hoping it was all just a bad dream, he pulled out a ring with an emerald stone cementing the fact that Ryan had indeed been conned the previous day. The cold feel of the metal nothing more than a mockery of his poor judgement at this point.

Ohh dear, that was unbelievably dumb of me to even make a purchase like that, how could I even have fallen for such an obvious scam... The man probably charmed him yep that had to be it, as he couldn't see anything valuable about the ring in question.

Ryan thought as he twirled the trinket around, examining it from every angle as though he hoped to discover something, anything that would justify it's value.

The ring was really old, definitely old enough to belong to Sarinth, or it was really an elaborate scam and the adventurer had taken his time to make it believable.

What if it wasn't, what if this ring actually belonged to Sarinth, the possibilities were endless and despite his hangover and his better judgement, Ryan felt a spark of excitement bubbling within him.

Sarinth was known as the merchant, No scratch that — he was known as THE MERCHANT.

The man you went to for anything and everything, Sarinth started out as a wandering merchant, going from locale to locale in the Eternal Realm, building networks, finding rare herbs and highly sought after herbs.

It was rumored that Sarinth actually had two classes in addition to his merchant profession, one class was rumored be alchemy and the other enchantment but nobody really knew for sure.

All that was known for sure about the man was that he sold the highest grade of potions and the best enchantments.

Sarinth was so renowned and well known that people believed that he actually had in person deals with lords, ladies, dukes, kings and queens and there were even speculations that Sarinth had one on one meetings with the emperor himself. The thought made Ryan's head spin, or perhaps it was just the hangover.

Sarinth was something of an inspiration to Ryan in the somewhat repetitive and stale world of commerce, A man who made it against all odds.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Someone who had climbed into the upper echelon of power. A man of influence and power, a lot of tales he'd heard back at the orphanage he grew up in often told stories of Sarinth walking everywhere with five rings on each finger of his right hand.

There was one with a golden orb, a sapphire orb, an emerald orb, a citrine orb and one with an onyx orb. Rolling the ring in his palm, Ryan couldn't help but feel a little joy, a little sense of hope. As he continued to roll it in his palm the emerald caught the morning light, sending sparkles dancing across the pitiful walls of his room.

He'd become like Sarinth, he'd grow, he'd speak with kings and queens and by Gods guidance, he'd be presented before the Emperor. He couldn't and wouldn't stay in this run down room for the rest of his life. No, he'd climb up. Far higher than where he currently was.

Pipe dreams the lot of it, I can't even pay the crippling loans at this point.

Ryan let out a low chuckle at the thought, the ring suddenly becoming heavy in his palm, a weight that reminded him of the expectations he had yet to meet.

Ryan shook his head and got off to prep for work. He skipped his morning meal and headed straight for the shop. Greeting a couple of friends on the way there, plastering a smile on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

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The route to the Eastern gate was already bustling with activities, adventurers were already on the move, most of them probably going out of town the others heading for specific vendors or just looking around.

The smell of freshly baked bread assaulted his nose and made his stomach rumble, unfortunately he didn't have time to spare as he was already late for the day's activities. Children ran past him, laughing and playing, oblivious to the struggles of adulthood. Ryan envied their freedom, he could vividly remember a time when he'd taken that same freedom for granted, sometimes even cursing the matron for not giving them the best of things.

As he walked, he couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between his current surroundings and the dream version of the rich people's world he'd hoped to be a part of someday. The walls of the buildings scattered here and they were littered with cracks, their paints old and weathered, even peeling in some places.

The cobblestones on the streets were uneven and he had to consciously watch his step, the sight of weeds growing haphazardly all around the cobbles made for a terrible sight. It was certainly a far cry from the gilded streets of the rich and influential as he'd imagined.

Ryan really wasn't much of a savvy businessman, as you could probably tell by the state of his finance. What he was on the other hand was a street kid. So when he opened his properly locked shop and found a neatly placed envelope on his wooden desk he didn't even panic, infact, a small smile began to play across his lips.

"Rats arse, the cheeky bastards dropped a letter for me." Ryan said with a smile.

He carefully reached for the envelope incase it was booby trapped. Rumors that he'd heard about the Looter's Heaven had taught him to be cautious. When he was satisfied that it wasn't going to explode in his face or release some kind of noxious gas, he opened it up and, like he expected, a letter was inside.

Pulling it out, it read:

Mr Lionheart, the Looter's Heaven has decided to reconsider it's stance and have given you a week to think about our offer.

Like we did, we would also like for you to reconsider your stance on this matter or else.

Sincerely,

Darius STO.

Ryan flung the paper to the side, his earlier amusement fading quickly. It seemed like a nice letter, but no, they were really threatening him. The "or else" at the end of the letter hung in the air like a sword dangling over his head.

Well they can try, they can try all they want but I have the heart of a Lion and I will remain standing long after they turn to ash and are buried.

Despite his brave thoughts, Ryan couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. The Looter's Heaven wasn't known for their patience or mercy. When they came after anyone, that person usually folded up and left the market.

He looked around his small shop, taking in the crooked shelves lined with a few health potions here and there, it wasn't going to look like much to anybody else, but it was his and to him it was everything. He'd built this from nothing, scrapping together every coin he had so that he could stock up the shelves and pay his rent, the thought of losing it all made his stomach churn.

But what choice did he have? If he gave into the Looter's Heaven, he'd be under their thumb forever or at the minimum for the most important years of his life. They'd bleed him dry, take a cut on every sale he made, dictate what he could and couldn't sell. He'd be no better than a puppet, building their own name and reputation at the cost of his dreams which would disappear like a puff of smoke if he ever signed that contract.

With a sigh Ryan began to set up shop for the day. He arranged his meager wares on the shelves, trying to make them look as appealing as possible. A few health potions here and the remaining teleportation stones placed at strategic positions. Nothing spectacular but enough to keep him afloat… barely.

As he worked, his mind kept on drifting back to the emerald ring in his pocket, could it really be one of Sarinth's five rings?

If it was, then it'd have to be a legendary artifact as rings on Sarinth's finger's were said to be the only pieces of fashion on the man, he never dressed elegantly or flashy. For the most part Sarinth dressed like a commoner till the day he died and everyone suspected that there was definitely something going on with those rings and shortly after he was buried his grave was dug up and the rings stolen. Nobody knew where they were until now.

Atleast Ryan hoped it was the original. He pulled the ring out again, studying it in the light of day.

The emerald seemed to glow from within casting a soft green light on his palm. It was beautiful, there was no denying that. But was it magical?,was it valuable? Or had he just thrown away his last bit of coin on a worthless bauble?

Ryan slipped the ring onto his finger, half expecting…