PlainsWalker: a D&D story

Ch 1: Session: 0

Everyone, at some point in their life, longs to make an impact and have their praises sung for years to come. Its every man's dream to be remembered. We want to have a legacy or leave some lasting impression. Some men strive their whole lives to achieve such lofty goals. Those monoliths of perseverance are praised amongst an elite pantheon of humanity.

The rest of us are left to wallow in our obscurity. To be known by only a small family and a few close friends before fading away. It is our fate to be lost to the annals of time...nameless ghost to our own history...

Unable to contain himself any longer, Gabriel started laughing. "...I'm good with that," he mumbled before placing the magazine back on the rack. The article "Humbled by Time" had caught his eye while he waited for his order. The Books-a-Million Café always had weird products on display to entice buyers. They certainly passed the time and didn't lack for comedic value. It was written by some Sociology Professor who apparently had way too much time on his hands. Probably never experienced hardship since learning to wipe his own ass.

"Some men strive their whole lives to achieve such lofty goals," he quoted suppressing another chuckle. "Guess I'm just fucked."

"Excuse me?" a voice asked. The barista behind the counter was holding his drink out, expectantly. The expression on her face, however, was clearly offended. Damn, did I say that out loud?

Embarrassed, Gabe smiled apologetically. "Just thinking aloud," he said dropping the cash on the counter, "keep the change." A $2 tip for a $3 cup of coffee, should've brought a smile, but the barista continued to frown. Even as she pocketed the tip, she continued to look at him disapprovingly. There was no telling what annoyed her outside of his language. He didn't quite match the bookstore's usual clientele. Amongst the 'teens' and 'twenty-somethings' without a matching piercing or hair dye between them, his high-and-tight haircut stood out. Could've also been the SiG .320 tucked into his leather belt. Hell, maybe it was his Captain America shirt.

"Do you need anything else?" the barista asked haughtily. She was definitely in her late teens and the café must've been her first job. Quality Customer service usually came with experience.

Smiling again he saluted with his coffee. "I'm good." Picking up the Timothy Zahn novel off the counter, he turned to leave. Inspired by his purchase he couldn't help the quote that came to mind. "May the Force be with you." The girl clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"That's creepy," he heard another patron say, "How old is that guy?"

Sighing, he left the café area to find a place to sit. It was such a peaceful day, he decided to wait outside. Sitting, he sipped his drink while starting in on his new book. Try as he might though he couldn't get into it. The crack about his age and the judgmental glares were irritating.

Gabe was used to his subordinates commenting on his age, but that was typical banter. They all respected his seniority. He also outperformed them in their morning Physical Training despite having nearly two decades on them. But they all passed their bi-annual APFT so he couldn't really complain. They also came to him for advice on personal matters so he must be doing something right.

"Hey, Sergeant!"

Speaking of my subordinates. Gabe looked up to see a wry blonde man, with a nose that could plow a field. He started to wave when he saw Specialist Kyle Bonness wasn't alone. Right next to him walked a thin woman with long muddy brown hair and glasses that looked they could see into the future. A bit homely, but she had a nice figure. He had to applaud Bonness's taste. Stop being dirty, you old grump.

Gabe managed to collect himself by the time they made it to the table. "Your late, bud," he said setting his paperback on the table. "Had time to go shopping."