Party composition was a hot topic in the Junior League, especially since one of the points of the organization was to get everyone ready to eventually embark on actual dungeoneering. The Junior League was where plans were made and parties were formed. By the time they were fourteen, it was obvious to both of them that they were going to form the core of a party, and from there, they had a number of discussions about who the other three might be. Alfric considered a bard to be an absolute necessity, because a skilled one could act as a multiplier on the entire team, allowing what felt like circumvention of the five-person party cap. A cleric was another must, at least until later on in their career when healing could be done almost entirely through entads, though a cleric would still be helpful even then. Alfric favored clerics of Oeyr, largely because they could stop people from dying and had good offensive power when they weren’t doing that, but Garos was a close second because they were able to directly cancel out a wide range of damage. Other clerics could offer utility of one kind or another but nothing like the raw healing power of those two. That left the last position to fill, and they’d gone back and forth on that one. Eventually, more by chance than planning, they’d come across Marsh, who was a triple threat, being both a warlock (locking things in place, or in relation to one another) and a nascent Pyro, as well as a proficient fighter.
By the time they were all sixteen, the party seemed like it was fully together. There were arguments, sure, but it seemed like they were going to go out and conquer the world, figuratively speaking. They spent quite a bit of time together, and while Alfric did his best to keep them on track, it was only natural that they’d become friends. It was always Josen who was closest with Alfric, and privately, Alfric thought of the two of them as being the core of the team.
And then Lola had taken it all, but it wouldn’t have been possible for her to do that without their help.
“Josen,” said Alfric. He couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice.
“Alfric—what are you doing—what are you doing in Liberfell?” The shock was clearly visible on the wizard’s face. He looked at the door he had just come through, as though he was going to run away, which was laughable, because Alfric knew from experience that he could almost double Josen’s speed, even without the stride boots.
“Did you get my letters?” asked Alfric. There had been three of them over the past year, all without a response.
“I did,” said Josen. “But I didn’t—didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”
“The others I understood,” said Alfric. “We’d had our disagreements about funds. But you were always on my side in those arguments.”
“She—she came to me last. She had already gone to Grig, Marsh, and Mardin. She’d gotten them to agree to break the party. She knew that I would be the toughest, and she had someone lined up to replace me.” Josen was wringing his hands. “The decision was mine, she said. I could stay with you and try to cobble together a new party from scratch as quickly as possible, or I could go with her and carry out your plan.” He repositioned his staff and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. He’d lost quite a bit more in the past year, his hairline continuing its steady march backward. That had started around fifteen, horribly young for it, and Alfric had always felt a bit bad for him. “And then you spent a year floundering, and… I’m sorry, but it felt like I made the right decision.”
Alfric already knew quite a bit of this. He’d tried to undo Lola’s sabotage and spoken with all of them. But that attempt had itself been undone by Alfric, in part because he’d realized that Lola had put in too much preparation too many days in advance. The deal had been all but done; it was just a matter of her executing it. He could still remember the look in Josen’s eyes, the mixture of sadness and defiance, but for Josen, this was their first time seeing each other since the betrayal.
“How many dungeons?” asked Alfric.
“Fifty-four,” said Josen.
“One every six days,” said Alfric. “That’s slow.”
“You overestimated the pace,” said Josen. “And there have been setbacks along the way. Days lost for no good reason. We’d be doing better if we had you, but I’m doing better than I’d have done if you and I had to build up a party from scratch. I’m sorry, but you know it’s true.”
“If you’d stuck by my side, I’d have been back up and running in a month,” said Alfric. “Less, even. I wouldn’t have looked like someone who was cut for some nefarious reason.”
“It wasn’t personal, Alfric,” said Josen. He had a pleading look in his eyes. “You were the one who always said we should treat it like a business. You said we should give ourselves the best shot at success. It was just… that it happened to be that the best shot for me was without you.”
Alfric felt his fists clench into balls. “Well, I hope you’re happy.” He moved forward, and Josen stepped back. Alfric continued on his way, out of the shop, which jangled the little bell. “Tell Lola I have no interest in seeing her.”
Josen seemed like he had many things to say, but they stayed on his lips, and then Alfric was out into the streets of Liberfell. He found himself clenching his jaw. Josen was right, it wasn’t personal, but perhaps that was what made it hurt so much. They had been best friends, or at least he’d felt like that, and in the wake of the party break, there had been nothing but dead silence.
“That was rough,” said Hannah, who’d come out of the shop right after Alfric.
“Bad blood,” said Verity. “We’ll get going soon. No need to meet the rest of your old party.”
“We still have work to do in Liberfell,” said Alfric. “And we need to find an animal so we can test the stone and make sure we can get home easily.” His blood was pumping, like he’d just been through a battle. A part of him wanted to go back and have it out with Josen, a long, drawn-out conversation, but it felt too painful.
“Are you okay?” asked Hannah.
“No,” said Alfric. “Josen and I were friends.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you.”
Verity gave him a somewhat pitying smile. “I think in this case we can forgive the breach of decorum.”
“Let us know if there’s anythin’ we can do for you,” said Hannah. “If you need, I can deal with the rest of what needs to be done in Liberfell, and you can go back. Or, if you prefer, I can handle Lola.”
“Handle her?” asked Alfric. That sounded like possibly the worst idea he’d ever heard. “No, I don’t want anyone talking to her. I want her out of my life.”
“I’m a cleric,” said Hannah. “We’re trained to mediate disputes, especially between two people who had somethin’ like a romance.”
“I want nothing to do with her,” said Alfric. “If you feel the need to talk with someone, go talk with the other members of her party and try to convince them that she’s been hoodwinking them.”
“Do we think that’s true?” asked Verity.
Alfric looked at the entad shop. Josen was still in there. “We should move,” said Alfric. “We still need to go to the League office.”
“I can do that, if you want to hole up or leave Liberfell early,” said Hannah.
“No, I’m the one with special dispensation, and I want to do it,” said Alfric. He started walking, trying his best to remember the directions he’d been given the day before. “And for your question, Verity, he said fifty-some dungeons over the course of a year, which is slower than planned, and obviously she brought them all to Liberfell so she could see me, which she didn’t tell them about. They should be at least seventh elevation by now and doing harder dungeons than the ones found in the area, at least if they want to maximize their risk-to-income ratio. If they’re not following the plan, then it’s almost certainly because of her.”