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The Old World

Bretonnian City

Couronne, City of the Grail

Couronne is the royal capital of Bretonnia, a shining city of chivalry where the kings of the realm are crowned and the Grail knights are most revered.

Astrography

Altdorf, Capital of the EmpireAthel Loren, the Enchanted ForestAverheimBarak VarrBechafen, City of the MarshesCouronne, City of the GrailErengradHag Graef, the Dark CragHexoatl, City of the SunItzaKarak Azul, the Hold of IronKarak Eight PeaksKarak KadrinKaraz-a-Karak, the EverpeakKislev, the City of the Ice QueenLothernLustria, the Jungle ContinentMarienburgMiddenheim, the City of the White WolfMousillonNaggarondNaggaroth, the Land of ChillNehekhara, the Land of the DeadNuln, City of Iron and PowderParravon, City of the PeaksPraag, the Scarred CitySkavenblightSylvania, the Cursed ProvinceTalabheimTor Elyr, City of the LagoonsUlthuan, Isle of the High ElvesWolfenburgWurtbad, City of StirlandYvresse, the Misty IsleZhufbar, the Torrent GateZlatlan, the Fallen Temple-City

Couronne is the royal capital of Bretonnia and the seat of its kings, a proud city of soaring cathedrals and gilded chivalry rising in the green north of the realm. It is here that the crown of Bretonnia passes from monarch to monarch, and here that the cult of the Lady of the Lake shines brightest, drawing pilgrims and questing knights from every dukedom.

As the heart of the Kingdom of Bretonnia, Couronne embodies the ideals of the realm at their most exalted. Its tournament fields ring with the thunder of the lance, its halls are hung with the banners of a hundred noble houses, and its streets throng with knights who have drunk from the holy Grail. The city was founded, so the legends hold, by the mythic saviour of Bretonnia, and its very stones are held sacred by the faithful.

Yet beneath the gleaming heraldry lies the same harsh order that binds all Bretonnia, for the glory of its knights is built upon the toil of a downtrodden peasantry who labour in the mud that their lords may shine. And for all its splendour, Couronne is no stranger to war. Greenskin hordes, the raiders of Norsca, and the horrors of nearby Mousillon have all tested its walls. In every age its knights ride out to meet such threats lance-first, seeking honour and the Lady's favour upon the field, that their names might live forever in the songs of the realm.