[center][h1][color=lightblue]Galahad Caradoc[/color][/h1]
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Perhaps Galahad should not have been surprised that his party's goals fell in line with one another so much. Granted, the reasonings changed from person to person, but more or less they all agreed that the blight needed stopping. Such was likely the reason they'd been gathered by Leonhart in the first place, but still, it was good they at least agreed on that much. It was about as much as could've been asked of an adventuring party cobbled together in the last minute by the king.

[color=lightblue]"We are united in our goal, father."[/color] Galahad stated plainly, [color=lightblue]"Reasons differ, but in the end the goal is what matters."[/color]

The older Caradoc snorted. [b]"All I see are sellswords and cutthroats. Unorganized. Unfocused."[/b]

[color=lightblue]"Are you upset that I'm not at the head of a column of Edren Knights? Most that fight are not soldiers, father."[/color] Galahad reminded him. As it stood, Galahad was one of a handful of Edrenians he recalled seeing at the dinner at Balmung. [color=lightblue]"You can't expect them all to serve out of a sense of duty."[/color]

[b]"And what of your sense of duty, boy? Have you no shame? No sense of honor?"[/b] the patriarch's voice began to grow increasingly hostile as dinner went on, spurring Galahad's mother, ever the more even toned to speak up on their behalf, whispering into his ear as she patted his hand in attempt to placate him. It had little effect, and as the spittle increasingly flew from his father's mouth, Galahad found himself growing increasingly agitated.

[color=lightblue]"I'm the only one in this family doing something about the trouble our people face."[/color] Galahad growled harshly. [color=lightblue]"Our people are starving, our homes are being razed. Yet I'm the only one looking to stop the problem. You sit here on your ivory throne-" [/color]

[b]"Insolent welp!"[/b] Artorias spat, hands slamming on the table as he stood up. Almost to match him, Galahad too stood up from his seat, electricity from his materia subconsciously crackling in his palm. [b]"You dare to lecture me? You who sits next to, breaking bread with my son- your brother's [i]murderer[/i]? [/b]

Galahad felt himself grow cold, as though all of the light and life in the room had suddenly disappeared. His eyes turned granting Izayoi a confused glance. [color=lightblue]"... What..?"[/color]

His father snarled at him, pointing an accusatory finger. [b]"Your [i]companion[/i] that you so staunchly support butchered your kin, butchered my son. And until you return to me with that [i]Demon[/i]'s head on a platter, you are no son of mine." 

"Out of my sight. Or I'll see you all hang come the morning."[/b]