Boon: Archivist's Intuition

Boon, Uncommon (Universal)

The words you seek are already listening for your entreaty. Call them out!

Description

This rare blessing sharpens the mind’s eye until words themselves seem to reach for the seeker. By invoking the boon, a bearer can pierce the clutter of any archive, knowing precisely where a desired word or phrase rests. The effect manifests not as a violent surge of power, but as a sudden, serene awareness—a lattice of meaning drawn like taut threads to nearby texts.

Mechanical Effect

• Activation: Speak aloud a word or short phrase (up to 25 words).
• Result: Instantly know the location of each occurrence of that word or phrase within 60 feet, down to page, margin, or carving.
• Blocked by: Lead or magic that prevents divination (e.g., nondetection).
• Recharge: Once per short or long rest.

This gift came not from the quiet alcoves of Oghma’s temple, but from the pale stillness of the Fugue Plane—a realm where the dead drift in surrender, awaiting judgment. There, Aewen Wael and his companions—Nysinia Kneesmasher, Braxthar Stormheart, and Lyra Wildthorne—stood before the High Priest of Kelemvor, who weighed their lives like coins on a scale. The high priest judged their worthiness to return bodily to the Material Plane, where they clearly belonged.

One among their company, unconscious and unable to act on his own behalf, was found wanting. The priest offered the group a grim mercy: abandon the soul and return to the Material Plane… or prove their resolve in battle, each fighting alone against the Fugue’s guardians—spear-wielding metal constructs under his command.

What followed was not a clash of steel alone, but a crucible of choice:

• Nysinia, unflinching in faith, voted to save their companion.
• Braxthar, wild power coiled behind his teeth, voted the same.
• Lyra, attuned to the cycles of life and death, voted to let the soul remain.
• Rafin, ever the pragmatist, only shrugged—a gesture that signaled cold indifference or quiet grace, depending on who tells the tale.

They chose battle. And in so doing, earned more than their freedom.

When the dust of the Fugue settled and the high priest spoke, his voice was like the fall of a tombstone:

“In the defense of the undeserving, you found worthiness yourselves. Let this not be forgotten.”

With those words, a fragment of divine clarity settled into Rafin’s mind—not Kelemvor’s justice, but the echo of a higher order: the inevitability that value must be given, even where others see none.

Manifestation in Play

When Rafin invokes this boon, those nearby may feel the air still for an instant, as if the room itself were straining to hear. To Rafin, the effect is visceral: every surface within reach seems to tilt toward his voice, offering its secrets like pages fluttering open in a phantom wind.