The Chronicle of Kernath – Under the Ashes of the Flame

“Some places die loudly. Kernath just kept breathing.”

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The Story So Far

Kernath lies in a forgotten valley of the northern Erenwald Kingdom. Once a proud mining settlement, it fell silent after the iron veins ran dry. To restore order, the crown sent monks of the Order of Saint Ochr — men of both prayer and science — to bring faith to the restless workers.

They built their monastery on the hill above the river. Officially, they copied scriptures and tended the sick. Unofficially, they obeyed a royal order:

> “Forge me a man who does not tire, who does not fear, who does not die.”

So began the Project of the Golden Blood.

Through alchemy, forbidden rites, and a little too much curiosity, the monks sought to create a serum that would turn frailty into strength. It worked. For a time.

The Golden Blood made men stronger — but hollow. They lost memories, emotions, and eventually, their sanity. Some believed the monks had gone too far. Others said they had found the key to immortality.

Fifty years ago, the Church sent inquisitors to seize the abbey’s work. The monks resisted. The valley burned.

No one truly knows who started the fire — the monks, the Church, or the king’s own soldiers sent to silence them all.

What remains are ruins, half buried in ash and moss. Official maps no longer show the valley. Official tongues no longer speak its name.

But travelers whisper it still.

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Whispers in the Present

They say the Golden Blood still runs beneath the monastery, locked away or waiting to be found. The king wants it for his armies; the Church wants it erased.

And a few locals — a drunk former monk, a healer with too much knowledge, a handful of mercenaries — pretend they are there by chance. But every one of them knows more than they admit.

Together they keep the valley quiet, guarding the last secret of Saint Kernath.

You arrive carrying a letter written in your own hand.

You don’t remember writing it.

> “The Golden Blood is not a treasure. It’s a debt you were born to repay.”

That’s where your story begins.

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Faith and Fire

The dominant religion of Erenwald is the Church of the Flame.

Its priests preach that purity is born through fire. They wear iron crosses with a burning coal set inside — a symbol that glows red when touched by deceit. The Church rejects all alchemy, blood rites, and unnatural studies.

Their creed is simple: “Cleanse. Burn. Rebuild.”

Before the Church, however, the valley followed the Three Mothers — old spirits of life, sickness, and death:

Zora, the Giver, lady of birth and hearth.

Myrha, the Healer, who mends with one hand and poisons with the other.

Erda, the End, who brings rest and decay.

Old charms of bone and ash still hang in the cottages. Priests call it heresy; locals call it safety.

The monks of Saint Ochr once walked between these two worlds. They believed divine power flowed through the human body — through blood, not prayer.

After the fire, they were branded heretics.

But not all their writings were lost.

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The World Today

Kernath is quiet. Too quiet.

The Church sends “penitents” here to purify their souls — usually men the Church wants gone.

The king’s soldiers scout the ruins, disguised as traders or hunters.

And every few nights, light flickers among the abbey stones, as if someone still works down there.

Sometimes the river flows backwards.

Sometimes the air smells like copper.

And sometimes people go missing — only to return days later, pale, calm, and unable to recall their own names.

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In-Game Use

The valley is a closed world — a handful of houses, a ruined abbey, a river, and the forest that hides everything else. Yet beneath that simplicity lie decades of deceit, guilt, and unfinished work.

The King’s Men seek the lost formula.

The Church of the Flame wants to erase it forever.

The Locals’ Circle guards it, not out of faith, but fear.

The player’s choices decide which power claims the valley… or whether the Golden Blood will rise again.

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Suggested Narration (for GM or NPC use)

> “Fifty years ago, they say the monks of Kernath tried to make gods out of men.

They melted gold into blood, and blood into madness.

Then came the fire, and the world forgot this place.

But fire never truly ends — it just waits for breath.”