- "I fear they’re coming to us, my friend," said Brocard, his spurs clinking as he strode up to Louen’s makeshift bivouac. The big knight’s handsome features were troubled. "You’d better say your devotions now, if you still want to make the charge."
"Louen nodded silently, taking his friend’s hand as he got to his feet. "Brocard," he said, "thank you for this. I’ll repay you if I can."
"It’s for the land, Louen. No need to speak of debt."
A close friend of the young Prince Louen Leoncoeur, Brocard was known for being a large, powerfully built warrior, even by the standards of a Bretonnian knight. He possessed a pair of mismatched eyes, one green and one blue, which were mirrored upon his Heraldry and the caparison of his mighty steed. His magnificent armour bore an immaculate steel unicorn that curved over his left shoulder, and he wielded a large mace in combat, the head of which had been forged to resemble a great eagle.
Brocard was the proud father of a boy called Landuin. The child's eyes mirrored those of his father, and he was considered gifted and highly intelligent for his age. Several years after Prince Louen left Castle Couronne to quest for the Grail, Landuin was taken in the dead of night by the mysterious fay. The distraught Brocard knew that he would never see his son again, but nonetheless continued in his knightly duties.
When Louen finally returned to Couronne, seeking aid against the Necromancer Myldeon, Brocard was one of just sixteen knights who pledged to assist his cause. They would be vastly outnumbered by Myldeon's Undead horde, but hoped that if they could quickly slay the Necromancer, victory would be achieved. The knights travelled to the last known location of the Necromancer, and soon bore witness to his unholy army.
In the ensuing battle, Brocard charged through the Undead ranks, reaching further than any of his companions. When Louen was eventually able to catch a glimpse of the fighting around him, he saw Brocard the Bold, his silvered armour glinting in the morning sun. Mace flashing, Brocard determinedly smashed his way towards a gaunt and hunchbacked figure. The pale warlock was surrounded by his skeletal men-at-arms, long-dead knights formed up in a grotesque mockery of an honour guard. Their ancient blades rained blows upon Brocard’s shield and stabbed at his rune-inscribed breastplate, but they had little effect. Brocard laughed, smashing skulls and ribcages with each sweep of his eagle-headed mace. Yet for all his bravado he was soon surrounded by the Necromancer’s undead elite. Louen knew that the Lady must have been proud, but he was alone, and fighting against impossible odds.
Incredibly, Brocard managed to fight his way through, towards the shrivelled Necromancer retreating to the side of a nearby lake. The knight bellowed a wordless challenge and pointed his mace at Myldeon. In response, the mage pointed a crooked finger at him and narrowed his eyes. A beam of black light flashed, and Brocard was flung back across the corpses of his slain foes, thick smoke streaming from his armour. Much to Louen's grief, Brocard the Bold was no more. His silvered armour was left smouldering, the body within ruined, his once-handsome face a mask of charred flesh...
- 1: Hammer and Bolter - The Court Beneath