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"Rise Sir Louen, land-knight, slayer of monsters and bane of the dead. You have spirit I thought long lost to this land. I dub thee Louen Leoncoeur, Heart of the Lion."

—The Lady of the Lake grants Louen his title.[6]

Louen Leoncoeur, the Lionhearted, also known as the Lion-Heart, Louen the Bold, the Lion of Bretonnia, the Beloved Son of Bretonnia, the Lord of the Lance, the Golden Paladin and Roi Breton, is the Duke of Couronne, High Paladin of the Breton Court, one of the almighty Grail Knights and the penultimate warrior-King of Bretonnia. He is renowned as a noble and just ruler. Fairness in all matters is his watchword, never allowing the law as written to compromise its noble intent, never refusing anyone a hearing in his presence to air grievances of which must be judged. He has issued a decree that none are to suffer for what they say during such an audience. Whenever the King gets involved, justice is done.[1][7][16]

On the battlefield, Louen is a deadly adversary, a natural general and a holy champion of the Lady of the Lake. Vampires, Greenskins and Beastmen alike are right to run from the field when King Louen Leoncoeur - the "Lionhearted" - charges into the fray atop his noble Hippogryph Beaquis, for their doom is surely at hand. Wearing the blessed Crown of Bretonnia, and wielding the legendary Sword of Couronne - forged from exquisite Bretonnian silverine - the fearsome Royarch comes to smite evil from his lands.[7][16]

Somehow, the King has halted the ageing process, appearing to be much younger than his birth records belie. Many believe it is the Lady's favour, her eternal blessing - or even her ethereal kiss - that enables Louen to hold back the advancing years and continue to lead his kingdom to glory. It is certain that the power of the Grail flows through his veins, for where Leoncoeur is cut, light streams out from the wound until it is healed over once more.[2][7]

History[]

"And King Louen did wield the Sword of Couronne, and he did slay the herds of beasts and the tide of green death that threatened the fair land of Bretonnia! It is written, oh yes - it's all here in the finest scribe's hand!"

—Andreas Halldenstadt, Head Scribe at the Great Library of Altdorf.[7]

Born into the illustrious Royal Household of Couronne, Louen took the Questing Vow when he was still a young prince. He travelled for years across the realm of Bretonnia and into lands beyond, expelling evil from wherever it could be found. He had met with prophets and ghosts alike on his travels, survived battles against Dragons and Daemons in his attempts to win the Lady's favour, and rid Bretonnia of many a rampaging monster. He had even fought alongside the Green Knight at one point, and received the Fay Enchantress's blessing after slaying a herd of Beastmen on the banks of a Sacred Lake.[6][2]

Despite these achievements, however, Louen knew that the Grand Court of Couronne cared not for hollow boasts. Without proof of his victories, and having not yet seen the Grail, they were likely to dismiss such claims...[6]

The Court Beneath[]

"Five years of this, and it never gets easier. One day I'll sleep in a bed again, perhaps with a woman or two to warm it. And on that day I'll eat rabbit stew, stuffed swan, roast boar and more besides. Today, though, I'll like as not be up to my armpits in corpses by lunchtime. Still, the deed needs done..."

—Prince Louen prepares to battle the Necromancer.[6]

Louen would not return to Couronne until five years after his quest had begun. The young knight was so scarred and filthy from his battles that at first the King's Men-at-Arms mistook him for a fellow peasant. It was only when he wiped the worst of the muck off his shield, revealing the heraldry beneath, that he was allowed to pass into his ancestral home.[2]

He had come to beg his father for aid. A vast army of the Undead was said to be shambling its way towards the dukedom's northern villages, the renegade sorcerer Myldeon adding to their numbers with every corpse-pit he passed. Though they were loath to admit it, the Grand Court had made a powerful enemy the day they chased Myldeon from their ranks for practising the forbidden arts. The vile Necromancer had to be brought to justice, lest he raise half the kingdom from their graves.[6]

When Louen rode out from Castle Couronne once more, he had only sixteen knights accompanying him, for his father was disgusted that he had returned from his quest with nothing more than a beggar's plea. The small force of brave knights came across the undead army at the banks of a mystical lake, and arrayed before them were hundreds of undead warriors with the vile Myldeon looming in the distance. The knights' desperate charge destroyed many of the undead, and they fought ferociously against the odds, but one by one they began to fall. Louen's closest friend and companion, Brocard the Bold, fought his way towards the vile necromancer and signalled a wordless challenge before being immolated with dark magic, leaving only a charred corpse in silver armour. Exhausted and distraught, Louen splashed into the mud at the lake's edge, dozens of grasping corpses clawing at him as he hacked and slashed. Before long the lake was strewn with undead bodies. As more came, an endless tide of rotting zombies and skeletal warriors, fear touched Louen's heart and he collapsed into the icy waters of the lake.[6]

Louen sank deeper and deeper until shafts of light began to caress his face. The murk became lighter and he felt a sense of peace fill his heart. That was until a beast appeared from the depths. A Lake-Lion, a primordial, aquatic horror with which he desperately fought. During the fight, his sword was lost and he had to make do with a simple dagger before finally slaying the creature, burying the blade deep within its gullet. As Louen drifted downwards, his eyes began to droop and then closed altogether, darkness surrounding him.[6]

He awoke to discover a beautiful courtroom of underwater rock, inhabited by many wonderful and strange creatures, seemingly engaged in a large banquet. Presiding over them was a stunning female figure, her immaculate features surrounded by a halo of luscious silver locks that curled and twirled against each other like courting snakes. Louen knelt on the sands and cast his eyes down respectfully. He felt a great warmth and his soul transcended his mortal senses. It was her, the Lady of the Lake...[6]

Ascension to Grail Knight[]

"Liquid light drizzled from the wound at his elbow, spattering his surcoat with bright spots of gold and forming small puddles in the mud by his feet. His arm hardly hurt at all, even when he pulled out the rusted sword, and as soon as the blade was gone the wound visibly began to heal. Shaking his head in disbelief, Louen stood over the largest puddle of the strange substance that flowed in his veins. Movement caught his eye on the ground at his feet, and he looked down in puzzlement at the reflection. The Lady of the Lake looked up at him from the pool of lifeblood and smiled."

—Louen discovers his powers as a Grail Knight.[6]
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A portrait of Louen the Bold, Knight of the Grail, before duty ushered him to the throne of Bretonnia.[19]

The Lady asked Louen to dine with her, explaining that Bretonnia was going to face a dark age and that it needed a great man to lead it. She revealed that the Grail was merely symbolic, that the water within was her own lifeblood, as were all Sacred Lakes in Bretonnia. Louen was lost in awe as she brought her arms together and cupped her hands. The water within them glowed gold, illuminated from within. He clasped his calloused fingers around her delicate hands and drank deep. Radiance poured into him like liquid sunlight, burning heat flowed throughout his veins as his body was renewed and strengthened by the goddess. His heart thundered like a bull and his muscles became as strong as oak, the years fell away from him like snow melting in the spring sun. Elation sang in his veins, a feeling of power. He would never be tired again, he could feel it. Sleep had become a concern of lesser men. He had too much fighting to do for such indulgences.[6]

The Lady glowed with pleasure as Louen rose reborn from the sands. On a sudden impulse, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. Before she parted, the Lady told Louen that she sensed true greatness in him, dubbing him Louen Leoncouer - "Heart of the Lion" and asking him to reclaim Bretonnia in her name. At her side came a group of mysterious knights. Garbed in archaic armour and pale of skin, their eyes glittered with the reflected glory of the goddess. These were the lost Sons of Bretonnia, boys taken by the Lady at a young age, never to be seen again.[6]

Louen and the Lost Sons burst from within the sacred lake; the undead turned around as Myldeon stood in shock. Their charge hit home with the force of a tidal wave. The necromancer's undead puppets were smashed into the mud with the force of the impact, decaying bodies practically splashing apart as the silver host thundered home. Louen was a bolt of silvered lightning at the heart of the storm. Even to be near the Grail Knight was deadly to the undead that assailed him. Skin sloughed from flesh and flesh fell from bone as the rotten creatures began to unravel in his wake. Unstoppable, Louen struck left and right with his sword, each decapitating blow leaving a slowly fading curve of silver light hanging in the air. A succession of glittering arcs stretched across the corpse-field like the magical script of some ancient race.[6]

Having overcome his astonishment, Myledon smiled as he summoned the undead back to unlife, creating a wall of bone between him and the Grail Knight, his sharpened teeth slicked with blood as he drew a sacrificial knife. In response, Louen slashed open his shield straps with his glowing blade, and brought the steel symbol of Couronne curving round in a great arc, putting all his newfound strength into one great throw. The pointed end of the shield smashed through ribcage and armour alike in a spray of bone and dust, neither spine nor skull slowing its passage. Louen's aim was true, the shield slammed into Myldeon's scrawny neck, decapitating him in a spray of gore before clattering to the ground. Blood hissed upon the rampant lion of the shield's heraldry like rain on a hot plate.[6]

As the headless body of their master tumbled to the ground, the skeletal men-at-arms and lurching zombies bearing down upon Louen collapsed. An invisible wave of release passed out from the necromancer's body and across the muddy fields. Undead toppled by the dozen, then by the hundred, until nothing was left but a miles wide charnel-pit. The fury of battle ebbed away, replaced by a great sadness. Face grim, Louen took stock of the good men that had been lost in the first battle. He closed their eyes one after the other, saying a quick prayer each time, before gathering tokens to send back to their loved ones...[6]

King of Bretonnia[]

"The greatest Bretonnian leader since Gilles the Uniter, King Louen is a mighty warrior-king - the very pinnacle of Knightly perfection."

—Louen Leoncoeur, King of Bretonnia.[7]
Diego-gisbert-llorens-ca-key-art-wip7c2a (2)

The Lionhearted.

Louen was officially crowned in the year 1522 (2500 IC), having ascended to the throne following a unanimous vote of his peers and with the consent of the Fay Enchantress, Morgiana le Fay. By then he was said to be over seventy years old, yet he still appeared to be in the prime of his life.[2][7]

The realm Louen inherited was beset by all manner of threats. The Lichemaster Heinrich Kemmler, despite his defeat at La Maisontaal, still lurked in the Grey Mountains with a horde of undead servants. In the south rumours were spreading of vile rat-men infiltrating the lands of Brionne and Bordeleaux. The northern provinces suffered from raids by the Chaos-worshipping barbarians of Norsca, while other dukedoms were forced to contend with incursions by Greenskin tribes.[1]

Louen's cherished ambition as King was rumoured to be the reconquest and rebuilding of Mousillon, which was all but lost to the realm after the Affair of the False Grail and the Red Pox which followed in its wake. Knights constantly urged him to declare an Errantry War to do this. However, he was often distracted from this great task by wars along the frontier of the Empire, where ambitious Counts threatened Bretonnian domains.[8]

Due to these threats, Louen enacted a policy to encourage even more jousting and tournaments throughout the land than his predecessors did, in order to ensure that all knights honed their skills ready for war. He held magnificent tournaments four times a year which went on for several weeks. He also made a royal procession throughout the various Dukedoms, and on the occasion of his visits the Dukes would hold banquets and tournaments in his honour. Thus, the calendar of Bretonnia became a succession of tournaments and training. This policy was more than welcomed, as Bretonnian knights like nothing better than a tournament, except perhaps a just and righteous war.[8]

In addition to all this, Louen revived the old custom of jousting between noble regiments of knights in a huge tournament marked out especially for the purpose. These Royal Tournaments also became occasions for the investiture of many Knights Errant as new Knights of the Realm, and the setting of tasks for others. Louen would often participate in these tournaments himself, proving time and again that he was one of the most skilled, fierce and honourable knights in the land. With the King encouraging his knights to hone their martial skills at every opportunity, the military might of Bretonnia soon surpassed that of even the greatest armies in history.[8]

King Leoun Court

The Royal Court of King Louen Leoncouer

Commoners and nobles alike spoke of Louen with reverence, likening him to the mighty Companions of Gilles from ages past. Highly skilled on the field of battle and a master of tactics and strategy, he had never known defeat. As ferocious and noble in diplomacy as he was in war, King Louen the "Lionhearted" was renowned far beyond the borders of Bretonnia itself, and respected by all. He utterly crushed the Orc invasion of 2508 at the Battle of Swamphold, and rode battlefields clear of the undead on the outskirts of Mousillon on more than one occasion. He fought victoriously against invaders from the north, driving them back into the sea, and scoured the taint of insidious covens from within his cities. Leoncoeur always attacked the enemies of Bretonnia with fiery wrath and determination, yet never were his actions anything but chivalrous and honourable. Mounted atop his ferocious Hippogryph, the King always fought at the forefront of his army, descending upon the enemy and chasing them down as they fled before his awesome might.[2][18]

At one point, the King led his army to aid the Dwarfs in driving out the forces of a bandit lord based within the halls of Karak Norn. Suffice to say that the stronghold was crushed, and the thief-lord slain by High King Thorgrim's own axe. This then left the issue of captives. Louen pled with Thorgrim on their behalf. He explained that they were without choice, for they were but starving peasants, and proceeded to detail the code of chivalry. Thorgrim disagreed, however, believing that the peasants had a choice, and they had chosen not to starve. In the end, the soil of Karak Norn was well nourished that day.[14]

Siege of Couronne[]

"Rise," said the king, and Calard lifted his head. Leoncouer nodded, and he stood."
"What is your name?"
"Calard of Garamont," he answered, holding his head high. "Grail Knight of Bretonnia.
"

—King Louen Leoncoeur meets Lord Calard of Garamont.[20]
Mon 256 (3)

The corrupted Heraldry of Mousillon.

At some point early in his reign, Louen was forced to defend his beloved kingdom from a vast army of Undeath. Having witnessed the return of the vampiric Duke Merovech of Mousillon, the noble Questing Knight, Calard of Garamont, had sent messengers to the King's royal court, warning him of the oncoming threat. Soon enough, Merovech’s undead hordes had fought their way to the very gates of Couronne…[20]

Booming thunder rolled across the heavens like the war-drums of the gods, and wind and rain lashed the battlefield. Jagged spears of lightning struck down through the roiling clouds, and with each blinding flash, the full extent of the desperate battle raging before Couronne’s mighty walls was revealed.[20]

The plains before Couronne were choked with the living dead, their endless ranks extending as far as the eye could see. The mass charnel graves of Mousillon had been emptied, the corpses of those slain by plague, pestilence and war exhumed and raised to cursed unlife. They shambled forward in endless ranks, impelled by the will of their vampiric master to rend and maim. Many were nothing more than skeletons clad in the tattered remains of tabards and scraps of rusted armour, while others, the more recently deceased, were walking cadavers, their flesh rotting and pallid. Some clutched the swords and spears they had borne in life but others carried no weapons at all, slaughtering the living with nothing more than filth-encrusted nails and rotten teeth.[20]

Great clouds of arrows were launched from thousands of bowmen positioned along the battlements, but they made no visible dent in the endless horde. Mighty trebuchets hurled huge chunks of masonry high into the air, spinning end over end through the driving rain before smashing down into the foe, crushing hundreds as they bounced through the densely packed ranks. They marched on through the quagmire of mud and blood, knowing nothing of panic or fear.[20]

Ten-thousand Men-at-Arms bearing the king’s colours were locked in desperate battle before the gates of Couronne, and the screams of the dying and horrible wet sound of blades hacking into flesh rose to those stationed along the city’s walls. Yeoman Wardens and Foot Knights bellowed their commands, desperately trying to maintain order as the terrifying horde came at them again and again, clambering over the bodies of the fallen.[20]

The two armies had been locked in brutal conflict for nearly six hours, and the Bretonnians were close to breaking. Exhaustion and the horror of their undead foe was taking its toll, and the resolve of even the staunchest warriors was beginning to crack.[20]

Trumpets sounded as dozens of lance formations of knights that had gathered from all over Bretonnia charged yet again into the enemy ranks. Young Knights Errant rode at the fore, still hungering for glory, desperate to prove themselves. They carved through the undead, scything down hundreds with lance and sword, while countless more were crushed beneath the flashing hooves of their heavy warhorses.[20]

The knights kicked their steeds on, desperate to maintain their momentum. To become bogged down in combat was death; with their impetus lost, the brave knights would become quickly surrounded and overwhelmed. One by one, the knightly formations faltered, ground down by the sheer number of foes pressing in against them. They laid about them, shattering skulls and chopping at reaching hands, yet were being dragged from their saddles and set upon by the ravening hordes. Their steeds screamed in fear as they too were pulled down into the mud, disappearing beneath the tumble of undead bodies clamouring to feast on living flesh.[20]

Above the battling armies, great swarms of bats wheeled and dived through the lashing rain and clouds of arrows. They descended on the living, latching onto any exposed flesh to feed, biting and clawing. Some of these creatures were immense, bearing fully barded warhorses to the ground before wrapping leathery wings around their prey and draining them of blood.[20]

At the centre of the fighting, Duke Merovech of Mousillon and his elite cadre of vampire knights, his Seneschals, carved a swathe through the Bretonnian lines, butchering all who stood against them. Mounted on black warhorses with eyes that glowed like coals, they thundered forwards, smashing knights from their saddles, cutting down Bretonnia’s finest with contemptuous ease. More knights pressed in to halt their rampage, but all fell before their murderous wrath.[20]

Faster and stronger than any mortal man, these vampire knights fought with callous ferocity. Their eyes were red-rimmed and savage, their slitted pupils dilating as their bloodlust surged. They struck with such force that shields shattered beneath their axes and blades. Their lances punched straight through armoured breastplates, lifting warriors from the saddle and tossing them aside like children. Merovech fought like a daemon, lips pulled back to expose his elongated canines. Blood splattered across his snow-white face as he hacked a Questing Knight’s head from his shoulders and thundered on, driving his heavily armoured Nightmare steed towards the immense gates of Couronne. He slashed left and right, killing with every stroke. The centre of the Bretonnian battle-line buckled inwards, threatening to break at any moment.[20]

A shadow descended from above, and King Louen Leoncoeur joined the fray. Mounted on a ferocious hippogryph, the king landed amongst the vampire knights, smashing several aside with the force of his impact, stopping their momentum dead. One of the deathly pale knights was impaled upon his glittering lance, and two more were killed in the blink of an eye, ripped savagely apart by his beast. Gore stained the hippogryph’s six-inch claws and dripped from the curved tip of its beak. It screeched a deafening challenge, talons clawing up the ground. The king hurled his lance aside and drew his ancestral sword, its blade shining like the sun.[20]

Leoncoeur slew the first of the dark knights that came at him, taking its attack upon his sacred lion shield and driving his blade through the vampire’s chest. He swayed back in the saddle to avoid the thrust of another foe, and his lightning riposte took the undead knight in the face.[20]

Leaping forward, the king’s hippogryph bore another vampire knight to the ground, pinning it down beneath its eagle-taloned fore-limbs, claws biting deep into plate armour. The hippogryph tore the vampire’s throat open, spraying blood and almost decapitating the undead creature.[20]

With a deft twist of his blade, the king turned aside a serrated blade thrusting towards his heart. The vampire’s fangs were bared, its eyes little more than glittering points. It hissed and recoiled from the blinding light of the king’s sword, its face blistering as if in direct sunlight. Leoncoeur’s blade struck down onto the vampire’s head, carving through its helm and skull. With a twist, he freed his weapon and cast his fiery gaze around him, seeking the next foe...[20]

Suddenly, a lance was thrust into the chest of his hippogryph, the blow delivered with such power and force that it drove up through armour and muscle, pushing deep into the mighty creature’s body, seeking its heart.[20]

Every soldier stationed upon the walls of Couronne watched as with a final, piercing cry the king’s royal hippogryph fell, collapsing in a heap upon the muddy plains. The rain continued to pelt down, and lightning flashed, throwing the terrible figure of Merovech into stark relief as he loomed over the king from the saddle of his nightmarish steed. Leoncoeur was pinned beneath the bulk of his slain mount, and he was unable to rise. He glared up at the Vampire Lord, mouthing a curse. The vampire duke smiled, exposing his elongated fangs. He swung himself from the saddle of his infernal steed, and drew a massive serrated sword.[20]

Knights surged forward to protect their liege-lord. They were met with the fury of Merovech and his dark warriors, and a desperate melee erupted. Dozens of loyal knights pushed forward, interposing themselves before their king and the murderous vampire knights, selling their lives dearly. Merovech began to laugh as he killed, the hideous sound booming out across the battlefield.[20]

The outcome of the battle balanced on a knife’s edge as the ferocious duke hacked down the knights standing between him and the king. He slammed his mighty sword into the standard bearer’s neck, the blade biting through armour, bone and flesh, and the royal banner fell.[20]

Knights and men-at-arms all the way along the battlefront saw that resplendent tapestry fall, and their resolve shattered. It began as a trickle, one man-at-arms turning to flee from the overwhelming horde, but soon became an uncontrollable torrent. The panic was infectious, and soon thousands of peasant soldiers were turning and fleeing back towards the gates of Couronne, trampling each other in their haste to escape, ignoring the barking orders of nobles and yeomen to hold. The rout became unstoppable, gaining numbers with every passing second. It surged blindly, and the undead poured over their lines.[20]

Trumpets sounded the retreat, and the Bretonnian army turned to quit the field, Merovech’s sinister laugh echoing over the battlefield. Then, the vampire duke approached King Louen and readied his blade.[30]

The killing blow would never land, however, for Calard of Garamont had succeeded in his quest for the Grail. Charging onto the battlefield, he saw Merovech looming over the stricken king, and ploughed through the undead hordes towards the duke's vampire bodyguard, a shining light spearing through the darkness and the driving rain.[20]

Unholy Seneschals, their eyes filled with hatred, moved to interpose themselves between Calard and their dark lord. Garbed in archaic armour of ancient design and wielding weapons of unholy power, each was a mighty warrior and dark champion in their own right, but even so, they could not hope to slow the Grail Knight's furious charge. Before long, the last of the dreaded Seneschals had fallen to Calard's holy wrath. It was then that the fell Duke of Mousillon swung towards him, turning away from the fallen Bretonnian king, still trapped under the weight of his massive steed.[20]

Merovech was a being of ungodly might, but in a display of skill and speed that surpassed even the vampire lord's abilities, Calard bested the fell duke. As the Sword of Garamont was plunged through his breastplate, the vampire's mouth opened wide in a final, soundless scream. His flesh began to wither and blacken, like parchment beneath a candle-flame. Calard wrenched his sword free, and the creature that had been Merovech fell to the ground, collapsing to grave-dust. The entire army of the dead dropped, the dark magic binding and animating them dissipating. The rain ceased, and a howling wind began to clear the sky. Knights leapt forward to aid the king, while others, bloodied and battle-weary, gazed around them blankly, not yet comprehending that the battle was over.[20]

Freed at last from the weight of his slain hippogryph mount, King Louen Leoncouer rose to his feet, and Calard dropped to his knees, a move that was mirrored by every warrior on the field. The day had been won. Merovech, vampire Duke of Mousillon, was no more...[20]

The Vision[]

"We must talk sovereign to sovereign," said the King as he dismounted his dais and moved to stand next to Karl Franz."
"I'm no sovereign. I'm not the Emperor."
"Not yet," said Louen...
"

—King Louen Leoncouer, revealing his prophecy to Karl Franz.[15]

In the year 2502 IC, Louen was granted a vision of prophecy by the Lady of the Lake. He saw the Old World in ruins, with the Ruinous Powers reigning supreme. He understood that Bretonnia needed an equally strong neighbour to form a bulwark against the predations of the Dark Gods and their followers in the north. The Empire was weak, however, and mankind only stood a chance with Emperor Karl Franz on the throne. The nations of Bretonnia and the Empire had not always been friends, but that was the fault of Kings and Emperors from ages past. If Karl Franz made the same mistake, then the Everchosen would be the only one to claim victory in the decades to come.[15]

The Green Knight himself was sent to inform Karl Franz of his summons, materialising out of nowhere to save him from the dagger of a political assassin. Owing his life to the mystical knight, the young Prince of Altdorf made the journey to Axe Bite Pass, to hold council with Bretonnia's warrior-king.[15]

Aiding the Prince of Altdorf[]

"I thought you Reiklanders were fops? Nice to see that at least one can wield a sword."

—Louen Leoncouer, fighting alongside Karl Franz.[15]
44BACE7B-4E4A-4230-9E7C-66691CF5DCDF

King Louen attending a war-meeting held by Karl Franz.

When Franz and his retinue of Reiksguard arrived at the mountainous domain, they bore witness to a vast warcamp. At the camp's centre was a grand marquee, a tent of epic proportions in the colours of blue and red with gold trim. It was the pavilion of King Louen Leoncoeur. The Prince entered the pavilion, escorted by Count von Königswald and a pair of fully-armoured Reiksguard. Inside the marquee was a large crowd of assorted Bretonnian nobles, each amongst the most powerful in the land. The King's tent was as opulent within as it was outside. The floor was littered with the furs of large exotic cats and there was a massive fire pit in the middle, on which a boar was roasting upon a spit. Long banqueting tables lined the main gangway, leading straight from the entrance to the rear of the marquee, where, on a raised dais, sat the King.[15]

Next to King Louen there was a woman in her mid-thirties, and undeniably beautiful. The King himself sat comfortably in his wooden throne. He wore chainmail and a sword by his side - his face, unreadable. Leoncoeur greeted Franz and his party in perfect Reikspiel, albeit with a slight Bretonnian accent. He announced that Karl Franz was to address him as "your majesty," causing the Prince's retinue to bristle with anger and the gathered nobles to chortle with amusement. Then, he raised his arms and everyone fell silent.[15]

The beautiful woman turned to the King and whispered in his ear. He nodded, and dismissed the gathered nobles. Soon enough the tent was empty, and Louen was left to walk around the pavilion with Franz, deep in conversation. The King informed the young Prince of the frustrations of rulership, of what a leader must do for his people. He explained that Franz was right to avoid it, that only fools deliberately sought the chains of governance, but that for men like them, it was their responsibility. Most importantly of all, he explained his vision, that Franz had to become Emperor, or the land of Sigmar would fall to the Ruinous Powers.[15]

Louen's speech was suddenly ended by the sound of steel clashing, and the unmistakable battlecry of the Orcs. The Greenskins of the Necksnapper tribe had swarmed Axe Bite Pass, seeking vengeance for their slain kin and drawn to the King's gaudy tent. Louen went for his sword while Franz pulled his Runefang from its sheath. Hulking Orcs burst into the pavilion, running towards the pair with long, hungry strides. One Orc obliviously smashed through the tent's fire pit in his desperation to close with the men, setting the pavilion alight. The clumsy Orc was brought low by Franz's Runefang, the legendary blade carving its body in twain. The Prince and the King fought back-to-back as Orcs swarmed around them. King Leoncoeur wielded the Sword of Couronne with a knight's grace, slicing two Orcs with a fatal whirl that ripped their necks open, cursing their kind as filth as he dispatched yet another. Smoke began to fill the tent as the two royals slew several more Orcs, incapacitating Franz as it entered his lungs.[15]

Then, the front of the tent all but exploded, with burning fragments falling away as Bretonnian Knights of the Realm charged through at full tilt. Horses jumped through tables as their riders skewered and trampled greenskins. Others ran down the gangway, scattering Orcs with lance and sword. In the Bretonnian knights' wake came Imperial Halberdiers and the Reiksguard, killing with every blow.[15]

With the Necksnapper tribe defeated, the Bretonnians and Imperials gathered within the smoking ruins of the King's pavilion. With a smile, Leoncoeur declared that the Greenskins had been given but a taste of what mankind could do when it was united. He began to laugh, and Franz joined him. Then, the King of Bretonnia turned to his newfound ally and informed him of what needed to be done. Karl Franz was to return to his capital. He was to win the election and become Emperor, not for himself, or for Louen, but for the Old World...[15]

Storm of Chaos[]

Warhammer-Template-Spoilers
Attention, Empire Citizens!
This article or this section of the article contains information regarding the Storm of Chaos campaign and its aftermath, which is now considered a non-canon, alternate timeline.

"War has been thrust upon the lands of King Louen Leoncoeur once again and will have to be met in kind."

—The Storm of Chaos.[9]
Storm of Chaos Bretonnians and Imperials (2)

The noble Knights of Bretonnia march alongside their Imperial allies.[10]

During the Storm of Chaos, King Louen received in his court messengers from Karl Franz’s Conclave of Light. A monarch ever aware of the threats to his nation, Louen Leoncoeur was not surprised to hear the dire news that the emissaries brought. There were some among the Dukes and Knights who argued that the perils of the Empire were not their concern and that they should look to securing their own borders and defences should the Empire fall to the might of Archaon.[9]

A warrior king in the greatest traditions of Bretonnia, Leoncoeur chastised these counsellors and spoke of the Norse longships that had grown brave and ventured south to raid the coastal villages of Bretonnia. He saw that if the Empire were to succumb to the hordes of the north, Bretonnia could not hope to hold against the tide that would be unleashed against his people. The Fay Enchantress too guided his decision, telling the court that it was the will of the Lady that Bretonnia take to arms and aid their fellow men. Her divine mistress had come in dreams to many Grail Knights in the preceding nights, and even now they were gathering at Montfort for the march north. The King had no hesitation in declaring a new Errantry War against the forces of Archaon...[9]

Knights from across the dukedoms of Bretonnia gathered for the march, eager to prove their worth against the servants of the Chaos gods. King Louen rode north himself at the head of his knights, proving to the world that the strength of Bretonnia had not lessened under his reign. Yet Bretonnia was a large realm and its knights spread far and wide, and though many thousands answered the call to arms it would take several months for the army to be readied for war. The march north would be a long journey, the crossing of the Grey Mountains no small task in itself, and Leoncoeur feared that despite his great efforts he might arrive too late and find the Empire ruined and in flames.[9]

The Siege of Middenheim[]

Despite his fears, Louen's army arrived to aid the Empire in their darkest hour. At the Empire city of Middenheim, in the heat of the midday sun, the Empire troops heard the clarion blast of a score of horns. The forest around Middenheim came alive with brightly-coloured caparisons and glorious pennants, the sun glinted from thousands of lance tips as the Knights of Bretonnia formed up and charged. They fell upon the rearguard of the Chaos troops with abandon, led by a shining figure atop a majestic Gryphon-horse, King Louen Leoncoeur himself. He charged straight into the heart of the chaos line, surrounded by a tight wedge of Pegasus Knights. The minstrels of that land would be busy in the coming weeks.[10]

When Boris Todbringer gave the order to withdraw to the outer defences of Middenheim and Imperials, Dwarfs and Elves pulled back from Grimminhagen, a solid charge led by King Louen scattered the pursuing Chaos forces. As the defenders began to rejoice, the air began to shimmer, and the skies themselves seemed to split apart like a corpse. A great lake of darkness spilled out, coalescing into ten thousand Daemons as it stretched out towards Middenheim. Eyes glinted within the shadowy veil, and cruel laughs and nightmarish curses were carried upon the retreating defenders on the hot wind. The waves of darkness fell over the Imperial army, and terror began to visibly spread amongst their ranks. Hundreds of men knelt and clawed at their eyes as a great, shadowy winged figure rose into the air above the unnatural legion. This was the mighty Be'lakor and his unholy army, who marched upon Middenheim with the Empire's Grand Theogonist chained to their war-banner.[10][17]

In the melee that followed, the Bretonnian King and his knights battled fiercely with the daemonic host. Protected from the evil sorceries of the Daemon Prince by enchantments of the Lady, Louen engaged Be'lakor in single combat. As the King of Bretonnia fought bravely against the Dark Master, an anguished cry was heard over the battlefield. Volkmar the Grim had ripped free of the chains binding him to Be'lakor's army standard, and laid about the surrounding daemons with those self-same enchanted chains. Bloodied but unbowed, the injured Volkmar was carried free upon the back of Louen's hippogryph and taken to the Temple of Shallya in Middenheim.[17]

Having rescued the Grand Theogonist, Louen was later forced to lead a band of Knights Errant against an ambush launched by Archaon and his Swords of Chaos. Even with Leoncouer at their head, the young nobles stood little chance against the mightiest Chaos Knights. Fighting their way clear, Louen and the brave Leofric were among the only survivors.[5]

Undaunted, the King continued to lead his army against the fell hordes of Chaos. He and the Knights of Bretonnia charged alongside the Gryphon Legion of Kislev, while white-shafted arrows from Elven Archers punched through armour and Dwarfen bullets penetrated flesh, pushing the invaders back. Ultimately, despite the efforts of the bravest and most foolhardy Chaos Warriors, and the exhortations of Archaon, the walls of Middenheim stood proud. Battered, bloodied but unbroken, the defenders rallied to the calls of their leaders and poured forth from the city to pursue the Everchosen's scattered army. After weeks of brutal war, the Empire and its allies were victorious.[17]

With their honour fulfilled, King Louen and most of his noble knights returned to Bretonnia. Some, however, those who still lusted for glory and renown, dispersed on their own individual trials and quests. A great many made the journey to Brass Keep to do battle with the monsters there, while others aided the Lancers of Kislev in scouring the Empire's forests of Beastmen and straggling Chaos warbands.[10][17]

Nemesis Crown[]

"The knightly sons of Bretonnia ride to war once more, in pursuit of honour, glory, and land!"

—The War of the Nemesis Crown.[12]

Many a bold knight had made a name for himself during the Storm of Chaos. While this affirmation of chivalric principles warmed King Louen Leoncoeur's heart, it presented him with a problem. In Bretonnia, tradition dictated that valour upon the field of battle be rewarded with land. However, so successful had his knights proved, that Louen was running short on land to award. So it was that the King issued a decree. It was clear that the Empire was beset by evil forces seeking the Nemesis Crown, and that Bretonnia must once again rise to defend her cousin. An Errantry War was declared, its aim to purge the Empire of all threats. Furthermore, knights with the rank of Baron or higher were permitted to extend the protection of the crown to any Empire township that wished greater protection from the strife besetting them, and a more stable governance than that offered by Emperor Karl Franz.[11]

Within a day of the decree, the first of Louen's armies rode to the Empire, Heraldry bright in the sunshine. Knights from every corner of the realm had responded to the King's declaration. Amid the column of the armies, the blues and whites of Quenelles jostled with the white of Montfort, the gold of Bastonne and the red of Gisoreux. Pegasus Knights came from Parravon, mighty Grail Knights from Chalons- even a few Questing Knights had set aside their travails to join the cause. All around flowed the sea of peasants, yeomen and squires that gather in the wake of a knightly crusade. Louen then appointed the famed Paladin Philippe d'Artaud as leader of his armies.[11][12]

The crusade of the Bretonnians proved to be a glorious success, they had outperformed every other nation of Man, and even Elf. Only the Dwarfs, the true owners of the Nemesis Crown, fought harder to eventually reclaim their powerful artifact.[12]

Civil War[]

"Across the glades and valleys of Bretonnia, disgraced knights and covetous nobles flocked to the serpent banners of Mallobaude, illegitimate son of Louen Leoncoeur, and would-be king of that divided land. The scryer watched as the nation over the mountains descended into fiery civil war, and his eyes widened as he saw Mallobaude throw down his father at Quenelles with the aid of a skeletal figure clad in robes of crimson and black. A skull blazing with malignant power, with teeth as black as the night sky, tipped back and uttered a cackle of victory as Leoncoeur was smashed to the ground, seemingly dead at his offspring's hands..."

—Mannfred von Carstein spies upon the Bretonnian Civil War.[13]

Mallobaude, bastard son of King Louen, had long been gathering an army in Mousillon, and on Winter’s Eve of the year 2521 IC, he loosed it to seize the throne of Bretonnia. Disgraced knights from across the realm flocked to Mallobaude’s serpent banner and, as King Louen, Royarch of Bretonnia, gathered his own scattered armies, the situation worsened. After the Battle of Châlons, and the calamitous disappearance of Morgiana le Fay, the Dukes of Carcassonne, Lyonesse and Artois declared themselves for Mallobaude, and rebellion blossomed into civil war.[4]

At first, the forces of the king had the upper hand. Mallobaude’s followers fought with the desperation of traitors, but the Lady’s blessing lay with those who rode at King Louen’s side. One by one, Leoncoeur bested the treacherous Dukes and brought their rebellious provinces to heel. A year into the campaign, it seemed that the serpent’s hour was done. It was then that the true depth of Mallobaude’s evil was revealed; he had struck a pact with the ancient liche Arkhan the Black, and as the serpent’s human allies foundered, the dead marched to swell his ranks.[4]

By the time Leoncoeur faced his bastard son at the Battle of Quenelles, Mallobaude commanded a horde far greater than the king’s army. The defenders of Bretonnia fought valiantly, but in the end, it was all for nothing. Having become injured during a failed cavalry charge, Louen fought his way to the centre of the battle, where he was cut down by Mallobaude in single combat. With their king’s fall, the Bretonnians lost all will to fight.[4]

Believed by many to be dead, Louen wandered the far reaches of Bretonnia for days, teetering on the brink of death. When he at last found his way back to Couronne, he collapsed in front of a Grail Knight, who almost slew him for a Wraith before noticing his mud-splattered emblems. By then, Mallobaude had been destroyed, and Gilles le Breton had shaken off his guise as the Green Knight, becoming the true King of Bretonnia. After recovering from his wounds, Leoncouer was dubbed the High Paladin of Couronne by Gilles, and acted as regent when the ancient hero left to hunt down the dregs of Chaos.[4][13]

The End Times[]

"When we swore our vows, we swore to guard the weak and cast down the tyrant. We swore to ride out against any creature of darkness that threatened our hearth and home, and to take the vengeance of the Lady to every last one of them. In these times, every realm stands as our hearth, and the whole world is our home! The corrupted will make no distinction between them and us. If Altdorf falls, who can doubt that Couronne will be next? When we shed blood on the Reik, we shed it for Bretonnia; when we shield the Empire from the storm, we shield the vales and towers of Quenelles and Bordeleaux!"

—Louen Leoncoeur musters the Knights of Bretonnia.[4]
LouenWithoutHelmet

Louen during the End Times.

Louen Leoncoeur was one of the Lady's foremost champions during the final days of the world, freeing every Bretonnian city he encountered from the forces of evil. Despite these victories, however, Louen had lost much of his pride. He had ridden out to face Mallobaude as the unquestioned monarch of his domain. He had returned to find a legend from the past sitting in the throne-room to accept the acclamation of the masses. All bowed the knee to le Breton, including Leoncoeur himself.[4]

The former King knew that to linger in Couronne like a ghost over its grave was pointless, and only grief could come of it. He decided that the time had come to aid the Empire in its own struggle, to fight back at the darkness that threatened not just Bretonnia, but the entire world.[4]

Bretonnia had ridden out to aid the Empire on many occasions, but those noble actions had not been reciprocated in recent years. Nonetheless, Louen could not stand by as the Sigmarites were assailed by the forces of Chaos. King Gilles gave him leave to make the case for Errantry, and despite the weariness of the long and grinding war, those tidings were met handsomely. Knights from across the realm rode out to answer the summons. Louen may not have been the King any longer, but they still responded to the Lion of Bretonnia when he called.[4]

The Fall of Altdorf[]

"Do you wish me to live?”
“That startled her. She looked at him, a sudden desire playing in her immortal eyes. ”Of course, beloved. I desire that of all things. Turn aside, and I will preserve you for as long as my power lasts. When you die, my heart will break."
”Leoncoeur nearly opened his eyes. For a moment, he saw a future unravelling before him – the two of them, mortal man and wife, riding out across a wide grassland, the sun rising swiftly in a dew-fresh dawn. He saw her face turn to his and smile, the care wiped from it. She reached out, and their hands touched. The vision made his heart ache. It had been forbidden even to countenance such a thing, and here she was, showing it to him. He looked down, still locked in the dream-image, his steed’s hooves trod in the damp earth. In the marks of the hooves, tiny worms wriggled. They were white and blind, and their mouths were ringed with fangs. “There would be no escape,” he told her, letting go of her hand. “It would pursue us to the ends of the earth. You know this.”
"The Lady nodded, smiling sadly. “And now you do too. So ask me again, my champion. You wish me to give you the path to Altdorf?
"

—The Lady and the Lionhearted.[4]

"The last of the vanguard drew up, over a thousand fully armoured warriors, each bearing a heavy lance. More waves readied themselves behind, forming a devastating series of thundering charges. Leoncoeur surveyed the lines one last time, feeling pride mingle with raw grief. They were beautiful - brave, vital and vivid, a flash of flamboyant bravado amid a world of gathering decay."
"You will die alone, my champion, far from home."
“Leoncoeur pulled Beaquis's head forth, facing the burning city head on, and flourished his blade. "Now, the final test!" he roared. "Unto death! Unto the end! Ride my brothers! Ride!
"

—Louen Leoncoeur prepares to meet his doom.[4]
EndTimesLouen

Louen Leoncoeur, High Paladin of Couronne.

Louen's final act of heroism was at the great city of Altdorf. Here the Grail Knight plunged into the fray, first slaying a monstrous Plague Ogre of Nurgle and then a titanic Cygor, plunging the Sword of Couronne deep into its baleful eye. He performed each kill with ruthless efficiency, before flying high into the air once more in search of new prey. Indeed, his diving strikes would soon reap a high tally of Champions from the Norscan host...[4][13]

The Battle at the Temple[]

"Just as the daemon reached out for Margrit, something moving incredibly fast shot out of the skies, streaking like lightning from the storm. She had a vague impression of wings, blurred with speed, and the cry of a human voice speaking a language she did not understand..."

—Louen enters the fray.[13]

Eventually, Louen spotted an enormous Chaos Spawn bearing two lesser warriors on its back. He considered swooping down on that horror, plucking the riders from their mounts and breaking their backs. Then, however, his gaze travelled further east, to a single, untainted area within the city. This was the Temple of Shallya, and the greatest concentration of Daemons had surrounded it, led by a truly titanic Greater Daemon. Louen instantly knew that this was his prize. Time seemed to slow down around him, isolating the creature of darkness as the true quarry of his long hunt. He shook the blood from his lance, still unbroken despite the kills he had made, crouched for the strike, and spurred his steed down towards the horror waiting below.[4][13]

And so, within the temple's courtyard, Louen fought Ku'gath Plaguefather, the mightiest of Nurgle's Daemons, further empowered by the unnatural mucus-rain surrounding the besieged city. As the hulking monster prepared to slaughter the huddled priestesses and their wounded charges, Louen arrowed from the sky like a living missile. The Grail Knight's challenge rang out, causing Ku'gath to turn and face him. Plague Drones buzzed erratically through the skies to their master's defence, but they were too slow. The Plaguefather barely had time to raise his hand before the High Paladin's lance struck home. Its blessed tip sank an arm's length into the Daemon's rotting breast, with Beaquis's claws slashing in close behind.[4][13]

Alas, with a speed that belied his massive size, Ku'gath grabbed the lance around its shaft and used it as a leaver to hurl both man and beast into the Temple of Shallya. Flailing sidelong, the Hippogryph and its armoured rider hit the dome with such force that they smashed right through it in a shower of stone and ceramic shards. Luminous blood trickled down the sides of what was left of the curved dome, but the king and his mount had disappeared from sight...[4][13]

Turning away, Ku'gath loomed over the thin line of wounded State Troops and Flagellants protecting the white-robed High Priestess of Shallya. Kicking away a half-dozen warriors standing in his path, the Daemon raised his sword for the kill.[4][13]

Suddenly, Louen Leoncoeur hurtled out of the temple archway, glowing blade raised. As Ku'gath brought his weapon down in a crushing overhead sweep, the warrior sprang to the side, catching the Shallyan High Priestess around the waist with his shield arm and casting her aside onto a nearby stretcher. Flagstones burst into powder where she had been standing a moment before K'ugath's blow fell. Louen leapt up, boosting off an antique table that had been pressed into service as an operating bench and leaping into the air towards his obese opponent. The old warrior's blade arced down in a two-handed blow that opened the lance wound in Ku'gath's chest still further, exposing the greater Daemon's rotting heart.[4][13]

Bellowing in outrage, the Plaguefather turned his massive head round in a great scoop, catching Leoncoeur in his antler and tossing him straight upwards into the air. The Bretonnian seemed to hang suspended at the apex of his flight before Ku'gath slammed his metal sword right into the knight's midsection, sending him flying over the milling Daemon horde below to crash into a statue of Magnus the Pious. More golden liquid trickled from Louen's wounds, yet he got to his feet once more, his shield glowing with azure light as he growled a prayer to his goddess to grant him strength.[4][13]

Even amid all the terror and filth, those Shallyans who had witnessed the fight were struck by the knight's sheer beauty. Louen's hair seemed to shimmer like gold, and his armour, though streaked with the blood of slain Champions, still glittered with a high sheen. He charged straight at the Daemon once more, spitting words of challenge that sounded like some strange music, working his blade in blistering arcs and hacking into its loose flesh. He moved so fast, shrugging off wounds and taking the fight straight to the titanic creature that loomed over him. Ku'gath struck Louen with his giant bronze sword, each strike capable of breaking bone into dust, but still the Grail Knight fought on.[4][13]

Victory[]

"What is your name, lord?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the hordes of daemons creeping through the ruined outer wall."
"What does it matter now, sister?" Leoncoeur replied. "We are all fighters."
"She looked satisfied by that. "I was hoping for an Emperor." she said dryly. "Perhaps a King will do.
"

—Louen, upon rescuing High Priestess Margrit of Shallya.[13]

The Lionheart soon found himself fighting against both Ku'gath and his horde of Plaguebearers, who had finally come to assist their master. Rolling under Ku'gath's sword-strike, Louen began cutting down the daemonic tide pressing against him, his flashing sword glowing bright under the comet above. At this, the Plaguefather covered his eyes with a flabby forearm, rearing back as if stung...[4][13]

The battle finally ended when the knight plunged his holy blade deep into the Greater Daemon's bulbous throat. Hanging from his sacred blade, the golden blood that was drizzling from Louen's many wounds began to sear Ku'gath's flesh. Worse still, it trickled into the gaping wound in the Daemon's festering heart. The golden lifeblood, bearing the blessing of a goddess even more powerful than Shallya, began to consume the Plaguefather. Ku'gath bawled and roared and flailed, but it did no good. The former King of Bretonnia hung on grimly as his opponent was eaten away by the very fluids he had spilled.[4][13]

In his struggle, the Daemon knocked into the podium bearing Magnus the Pious' memorial, and the statue of the great war leader came crashing down. As Louen leapt free, the statue's lumpen metal weight pinned Ku'gath to the ground. Second by agonising second, the Greater Daemon bubbled away into nothingness until all that was left was a simmering stain...[4][13]

Fate[]

"She smoothed the bloodied hair from the knight's brow, and closed his eyes. It would have been nice to have known his name..."

—The death of the Lionheart.[13]

The former King had been greatly weakened by his fight against Ku'gath, and the many monsters and Champions he had fought to reach the foul daemon. He was drained to his very core, and could barely stand. Nonetheless, when a horde of fresh Plaguebearers poured into the courtyard, stand he did, bleeding but proud in place of Magnus's fallen statue.[4][13]

Though he fought valiantly, Louen was eventually felled by the Nurgle-empowered Festus the Leechlord. As the knight roared his challenge and sprang off the podium towards his foe, the apothecary ripped a daemonic long-leech from its suckling-space on his back and flung it at the Bretonnian like a bolas. The segmented thing tangled the wounded knight’s legs, tripping his charge.[4]

As dextrous as any Elf, Louen tucked his shoulder and rolled once more, using the last of his energy to come up blade-first and plunge his glowing sword deep into the Leechlord’s gut. However, Much like the Plaguefather before him, Festus was glutted with the power of Nurgle, on the very cusp of Daemonhood, and all but immune to injury. The Leechlord smashed a vial he had palmed a moment before into the Bretonnian’s face, boiling daemonic ichor ruining the knight’s handsome visage forever. Louen reeled back, crying out in rage and pain. Festus yanked a dirty bonesaw from his belt and leapt forward like a pouncing toad, ripping the serrated blade across the reeling knight’s throat, before hacking away at his chest like a manic butcher. However, even as Festus's plague-saw parted muscle and severed ribs, Louen fought back against the pain. He stared straight into the face of his killer, and cracked a grin. This enraged the Leechlord further, but before he could twist his plague-saw deeper, he was slain by the newly arrived Vlad von Carstein.[4][13]

Mortally wounded, Louen's last sight was the remainder of the daemons being driven from the courtyard, pursued by grey-skinned warriors in archaic armour. The High Priestess was at his side then, cradling him. He managed to shoot her a final smile, thanking her. So it was that, courteous to the last, Louen Leoncoeur died in the precincts of the Temple of Shallya, far from home, ringed by the living and the dead.[4][13]

Even the Vampire Lord had a look of sadness as he stood over the Bretonnian's ravaged body, before finally retreating from the field. Louen was found hours after the battle had finally ended. Collected by his grieving knights, he was borne away like a hero, silently and in reverence.[4][13]

Later, as Lileath held a meeting with the other Gods of the Old World, she turned to the shining Golden Paladin at her side, inspired by the loyal sacrifice he had made...[4][13]

Family[]

Over the course of his long life, Louen was known to have fathered at least two children. He had a daughter, Isabeau, who at one point was captured by the Dragon Malgrimace and rescued by Jasperre le Beau. He also had a bastard son, Mallobaude, who would go on to become his greatest enemy. Louen's own father was a previous King of Bretonnia, and thus a Grail Knight.[1][6]

Heraldry[]

Louen Leoncoeur Heraldry

Louen's Heraldry.

Louen, like all Bretonnian knights, rode into battle wearing armour bedecked with magnificent Heraldry. His shield, great helm, pennant and surcoat all bore his personal heraldic markings, indicating to everyone his achievements and status, and overawing his opponents in battle.[8]

Louen's coat of arms was: Per pale Gules (for his father) and Azure (for his mother), a lion (for the royal family of Couronne) with a crown (as King) holding in his sinister paw a sword (as Duke), within a bordure charged with fourteen fleur-de-lis, Gules and Azure (for the Dukedoms).[2]

Wargear and Abilities[]

"For a moment Louen stood tall in the saddle, a legend given life, the Sword of Couronne raised and glinting in the light of the comet above. He twisted in the saddle, shrugging off the cygor’s great mauling hand. Taking advantage of the roaring beast’s lunge, Louen drove his glowing sword hilt-deep into the brute’s single eye. As the giant sank backward into the dirt, the High Paladin remounted his hippogryph with astonishing agility. The noble steed sprung back up into the air, its pinions snapping as it scanned the battle for its next prey. Louen’s forehead was cut, the wound drizzling liquid light in place of blood, but such was the Lady’s favour upon him it was already healing over..."

—Louen casually despatches a monstrous Cygor.
King louen leoncoeur

King Louen Leoncoeur atop Beaquis

Among the monarchs and leaders of the Old World, King Louen Leoncoeur was perhaps the mightiest warrior. He was capable of slaying Nurgle's greatest Daemon, simply with his holy blood, and slaughtering lesser enemies in their droves. Older than any other human ruler, his experience in combat and politics was unquestionable. The power of the Grail flowed through Louen's veins, making him faster, stronger and more resilient than any mortal man. Imbued with this fay power, he could regenerate his wounds, the blood shining with a holy light before disappearing completely.[4][2]

  • The Sword of Couronne was a mighty relic weapon, first gifted to the Grail Companion Carleond, and wielded by many heroes of Bretonnia's past. It was forged from the finest silverine and was quenched in the mirror pools of the Great Forest. A purified weapon of the Temple of the Lady, the sanctified blade was steeped in righteous power. As Louen wielded this blade, it would catch the sun's rays, dazzling his enemies as he charged into battle.
  • The Lion's Shield had protected Louen from the first days of his Knighthood. It had been worked on by Bretonnia's greatest artisans and enchanted by Prophetesses to become a mighty artefact.
  • The Lion Lance was a mighty relic weapon carried by the kings of Bretonnia's past, granting the wielder enhanced strength and striking with a relentless fury.
  • The Tabard of Kings was a magnificent embroidered tabard which had been passed down through Bretonnia's greatest Kings, enchanted with powerful counter-spells it protected its bearer against enemy magic.
  • The Armour of Brilliance was a near impervious relic of holy might, once worn by the famed Grail Knight, Agilulf. The dazzling light from the armour's polished plates made it painful for dark beings to even look upon their foe.
  • The Crown of Bretonnia shone with a golden light and was blessed by the Lady herself, enhancing the character of its wearer and inspiring those near him.
  • Beaquis was the loyal mount of King Louen - a mighty Hippogryph as majestic in battle as his master.

Miniatures[]

Trivia[]

Louen is inspired by the well-known Crusader and King of England, Richard the Lionheart. Richard was also the Duke of Gascony, Aquataine and Normandy, owning large amounts of land in France, where he spent most of his rule when not crusading. He was known in French as the "Coeur de Lion", which is similar to Louen's title.

There is a distinct possibility that King Charlen is Louen Leoncoeur's father. Louen was over 70 years old when he ascended to the throne in 2500 IC, having drunk from the Grail while still a young man. This places Louen's time as a Questing Knight in the 2400's, during Charlen's rule. Charlen also hailed from the Dukedom of Couronne, and his war-like personality fits the description of Louen's father in "The Court Beneath" novella.

Louen's Sword of Couronne is not to be confused with Duke Tancred's Blade of Couronne

Sources[]

  • 1: Warhammer Armies: Bretonnia (5th Edition)
  • 2: Warhammer Armies: Bretonnia (6th Edition)
  • 3: Warhammer: Nagash
  • 4: Warhammer: Glottkin
  • 5: Warhammer: Guardians of the Forest
  • 6: Hammer and Bolter: The Court Beneath, Issue 25
  • 7: Total War: Warhammer (PC Game)
  • 8: White Dwarf 202 (Aus)
    • 8a: pp. 55-57
  • 9: Warhammer: Storm of Chaos
  • 10: Darkness Rising
  • 11: Warhammer: The Nemesis Crown (Booklet)
  • 12: Nemesis Crown Official Website (Archived)
  • 13: Warhammer: The End Times Collection
  • 14: Warhammer: Thorgrim (Novel)
  • 15: Prince of Altdorf (Short Story), by Andy Hall
  • 16: WHFRP - Knights of the Grail
  • 17: Storm of Chaos - The Loremaster's Journal
  • 18: Warhammer: Louen Leoncoeur (Miniature Box)
  • 19: Warhammer: Vermintide II (Videogame)
  • 20: Grail Knight (Novella)

Gallery[]

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