The Nanite Outcast

The ash storms had started again, and Rolga had been caught in them. Gagging on the silica that made it through his head scarf, he could hear something moving around out there. Horrors the likes of which he didn't wish to meet up-close, they were indifferent to the scouring winds because their gleaming metal hide was proof against the rasping wind, and they had no need to breathe. He stumbled, hacking, and that was when a hand gripped the back of his shirt. Rolga tried to fight, to reach for a weapon, but he was dragged through the cloud, his feet tripping over stones.

"Stop fighting," a muffled voice said. Rolga tried to draw breath to respond, but he was thrown through a door, set to tumble across a tiled floor. He dragged himself to his hands and knees, hacking and spitting, before he glanced up. A figure forced a steel door shut before throwing a bar through the lock clasps, and sighing.

"You nearly got yourself killed out there, boy," the figure said, pulling back his hood and jerking off his goggles. He had the dark hair and thick features of the plains people, and as Rolga watched the rents in his flesh closed themselves, scarring over almost instantly. The man's eyes flashed a deep gold, and then they faded to a deep brown that was nearly black.

"You're Torum the Outcast," Rolga said. The words were out before he could stop himself, but a thunderhead appeared on the man's face.

"I see my name hasn't been forgotten," Torum growled, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Why have you come here, boy? I'm a dozen leagues from the nearest puddle, surrounded on all sides by broken metal monsters and rotting mutants. What was so important you needed to brave all that to stumble to my front door?"

In answer, Rolga slowly drew his dagger. Torum tilted his head slightly, but the boy held up an empty hand. He frowned, staring at the weapon. Then a stream of deep, black ichor crawled from beneath his fingertips, sliding up to the blade. It dripped, but also scrabbled, as if an oil slick had been given a million, insectile legs. Torum nodded his head once, and sighed. He shrugged off his sand robes, and hung them on a hook.

"There is water through there, and a bucket should you need," the sorcerer said. "I'm going to finish sleeping. When I return, we will talk."

Machines In The Blood

Numeria is a nation of barbarism and technology, where magic and mysticism meet machinery. While many of the barbarian tribes outside the major cities will freely use terrifying arms and armaments, there are many things they will regard with atavistic dread, or terrified awe, and one of those are people who are born with (or who acquire) the nanite bloodline. Filled with a living swarm of tiny machines that enhance their bodies and minds, these nanite swarms can grant their inhabitants truly dangerous abilities.

This is why many of them become nanite outcasts... individuals who are shunned and expelled by their people, treated as unclean for the creatures that live inside of them.

The question that needs answering, though, is where does a nanite outcast go, and what do they use their powers for?

As an example, a sorcerer with a nanite bloodline might seek out another like themselves, hoping to find some kind of tutor to help them control their condition. They might attempt to go as far as possible from their people, changing their name and claiming to be a more "acceptable" form of sorcerer, hiding the true nature of their bloodline from most. However, it's also possible the character is not a sorcerer, but rather someone with the Eldritch Heritage feat who has inherited (or been exposed) to nanites that have altered them in an intrinsic way... which could make their abilities even more unexpected!

While sorcerers being secretive about their bloodlines and how they acquired their powers is far from unusual (after all, who wants to have a conversation about why they can summon hellfire with a wave of their hand, or why the dead obey their commands?), the nanite bloodline is strange even among the wilder bloodlines. A fusion of eldritch body horror and super science, it creates an anomaly that cannot be simply explained. And given that the outcast has been removed from society once, it's very likely they aren't going to be open about their powers... and if they begin to speak with the nanites (whether it's pure flavor, or just madness) that can create a truly bizarre dialogue that can be fun to explore as the game goes on, and they become more and more of the individual's body.

Lastly, before I go this week, it's been a while since I've written any supplements for Pathfinder Infinite. In fact, the only two titles I have on that platform right now are 100 Books To Find Across The Inner Sea and 150 Sights To See (And Rumors To Hear) In Absalom, but I've wanted to expand the options for nanites and Numeria for a while. I'd like to make some things for bloodragers, barbarians, and potentially for some magic items like technological implants made from salvaged androids and other sentient machines. So if that's something you'd like to see, make sure you leave a comment below to tell me so, or follow me on social media and leave your thoughts on my posts there!

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