Over the course of ten years with virtually no human contact, Jamie has regressed to a childish perception of himself as a god. Given this, he is practically incapable of deceit, seeing things in a fairy-tale mentality. His megalomaniac tendencies include being unable to interact with people unless he sees them as being of equal status to himself. Fellow monarchs of their specific kingdoms.
This degradation has also decreased his ability to be a credible threat, but also made him more unpredictable.
With his monsters, he wiped out the human population of Ellisburg and killed all buttwo of the PRT operatives that were sent in. Nilbog would be classified as an S-Class threat, mentioned in the same breath as the Endbringers, the Three Blasphemies, and Sleeper. however he is seen as slightly less of a threat as he stays within his "Garden of Eden".
Jamie is described as a man, potbellied and hunchbacked, wearing a patchwork costume with jarring patterns of stripes and checkers. He wears a cloth crown with a cloth mask featuring beads for eyes and a perpetual leer of a smile.
He frequently uses false puppet creatures that look like bloated versions of himself to deceive possible enemies, and act as proxies.
Jamie has the power to create minions that are customized with feelings and powers of their own. He does this by recycling pre-existing living material. His monsters have the ability to breed and give birth to more monsters, coming in a variety of shapes and forms. This earns him an S-Class rating under the PRT Operations Manual as he is a "high level duplicator ... who operate[s at an] exponential degree" with his creations having their own fantastic abilities.
As Nilbog, he is only limited in the amount of living matter he has to manipulate and shape. He converts this living matter from a target by enclosing them in one of his generated sacs. The target could fight free if able to, but otherwise once enclosed the targets biological material is converted into a 'slurry' as Nilbog transfers them through his body into another sac where the slurries component parts can now be used or can be converted.
To create anything he has to work with something. If the target can move, they can fight free of the enclosing sac. Once enclosed, it's a question of being transferred from one point of contact with Nilbog to another, processed as they pass through his body. The hunchback and robe, used when he first triggered, was a living creation of his that contained the slurry of biomass used to make his creations, . While also acting as a protection for his person. 's carrying on his person, and he wears a goblin suit (basically a created goblin with a Nilbog-shaped hole he can climb into) for the strength to haul it about.
His creations form from his hands in placenta like sacs before he releases them. However, his monsters only have a lifespan of around three to four years, combined with isolation from any new sources of protein which leads to their life span decreasing with each successive regeneration.
He maintains a clairvoyant awareness of all of his creations and can rapidly distinguish between his children and any impostors, including detailed information about them. Further his creations have their own volition, though they will follow their creator's orders.
According to Valkyrie, he is the keeper of the "Maker" shard.
Jamie Rinke had a rich imagination as a child which he would draw on as an adult. Rinke was originally a banker and a loner before he was fired from his job. Alone in his apartment, withdrawn and isolated, he had his trigger event; purportedly linked to his imminent homelessness. He created Polka and things only got better for him, and no one else, from there.
He conquered Ellisburg within a week, and defeated multiple PRT strike teams while driving off the accompanying capes from the Toronto Protectorate. The capes fled, among the PRT personnel there were only two survivors, a woman and a man, who emerged alive from 'garden' of Nilbog.
After twelve years of relative solitude, Nilbog was visited by monsters like himself. Settling down for a feast, Nilbog and his guests were soon joined by others who claimed to be his peers. He was eventually abducted by the monsters and made to do their bidding.
During this brief captivity, all he built was destroyed. His kingdom was invaded, and many of his creations, running rampant due to his abduction, were put to the sword. The Nine were able to rapidly find a way to have Nilbog to help bolster their forces. Was sent to New York with Bonesaw to create even more chaos and bloodshed. Nilbog would later be retrieved from the custody of the Nine by a Protectorate team.
Rinke participates in Gold Morning, creating minions to fight against the main threat. Though they were sometimes a hindrance.
Given his actions, he was given some degree of amnesty during the story's epilogue. He talks with the fairy queen. He was later seen as a guest of the new Wardens after the final battle, talking with some rather interesting people.
Two years later he was still in custody even though his "children" weren't. Three of his creations have snuck in to see him since, the last of which was Dot, he sent her away it is unknown what he did to the others.
↑ 2.02.1“We’ve been able to piece together who he is. We got security camera footage from the early stages of the incident, just last week, and we found his face. One of the top geeks from the Protectorate then found other cases of his face around the city and found a name. Jamie Rinke.” - Excerpt from Interlude 16.x
↑ 3.03.1Nilbog – A crazed lunatic, Nilbog gained the power to create life, collecting raw biological material and using it to fashion minions. With this power, he has settled in a small town and depopulated it to repopulate it with his own creations. - Cast (in depth)
↑ 4.04.1Jack was smiling, clearly amused. Then again, he was safe. He was untouchable with Siberian beside him, and he was only feigning weakness to get past Nilbog’s defenses.
“A queen. With that in mind, provided you give your permission, I’d like to offer you a gift. A… peace offering, to make up for the fact that I entered your territory uninvited.”
“Of course, of course!” He was almost childlike, so easily moved by this promise of a gift, his mood changing so quickly. Guileless. He’d been surrounded by yes-men for more than a decade, with barely any human contact, his defenses were gone. “I forgave Jack the lack of an invitation, I’ll extend you the same courtesy. This gift?” - Excerpt from Sting 26.4
↑ 5.05.15.25.3RedX:Twenty years of fallout cleanup is better than everyone dying to uberlocasts. It's arguably better than the moral and psychologial hazard of letting Nilbog continue to exist.
Wildnow: I find there's a trend, and you definitely see it highlighted in PRT quest, but you see it in arguments like this too.
The first mistake people make is forgetting the person involved. Nilbog was a human once, who watched TV and rented movies. He was lonely, odd, but fairly intelligent.
He has a sense about nuclear weapons. He knows about armies and all that. Crazy as he becomes, he retains that.
That's the first mistake. Forgetting that there's a man there, spending weeks and days with his creations, he loves them, they're his art, his existence. But he has his good moments, and he has his depressive, paranoid moments, where he thinks about how they're dying a little faster every generation, and that there's a very real possibility that people might try to assassinate him, or take his creations away from him by fire, gun, or bomb.
He thinks about these things. He dwells on them, and he takes measures.
The second mistake that Spacebattlers tend to make, in my estimation, is forgetting about the shards.
As Nilbog's content to be passive, you can assume: 1. His shard is broken. 2. His shard is powerful, and it's being utilized to secure Scion/Eden's plans more than it's being used to stress test and evolve anything. 3. Both of the above.
So, question. What eventuality is this tightly packed biome of custom-made living things placed there for? Remember the long-term agenda, too. Conflict. What if he's there because the entities wanted something out there to generate chaos in the event that a Bakuda or a US army or a Level 9001 Dauntless annihilated the area and most of the local population? - Comment by Wildbow on Spacebattles
↑ 9.09.19.2A laugh. Not the gibbering noise of the creatures, but all too human.
He spotted the culprit. A man, potbellied and hunchbacked. The style of dress was similar to the patchwork brute they’d fought first, with bright, contrasting colors that he couldn’t quite make out in the gloom. There were jarring patterns with stripes here and checkers there. He wore a cloth crown, and his cloth mask featured beads for eyes and a perpetual leer of a smile.
“Rinke!” he screamed the word. He took aim and fired.
He hit his mark. The man went down, and the creatures wheeled on him, screaming, squealing. If he’d had any doubt about his target, the reaction dispelled it.
Then he saw Rinke stand.
“You would shoot me!?” Rinke roared. If anything, his voice was all the more terrifying because it sounded so small, so human. “I create life! I am a god, and this is my garden!” - Excerpt from Interlude 16.x
↑In a second, the gun-mounted flashlights of his squad members flicked off. The shape that moved down the street was reduced to a dark blur, a shifting bulk of gray-black against a background of pitch black.
Rinke? As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a figure dressed in a jester’s motley, two contrasting colors predominating, blue-orange or purple-yellow. The mask a patchwork cloth that covered his face, with only two dark holes for his eyes. But most daunting of all was the man’s size. He was obese, bloated, ten feet tall and nearly as wide, advancing at a glacial pace as he lurched down the middle of the street. His arms were drawn behind his back by the weight of the sack and the cloth he carried.
Holler was barely audible. “He’s got no heat. The reading came from the bag. Not warm enough to be alive, but whatever’s in there’s just warm that it was probably living up until a few minutes ago.”
Every eye in the squad turned to the large patchwork sack that the bloated thing hauled behind it.
Rinke slowly turned to face them. The second the dark holes of the mask centered on them, they opened fire.
Tieu and Coldiron fired the incendiary grenades. The shells exploded on impact with Rinke and the ground, lighting him up. He continued to waddle towards them, slower than they were able to walk backwards.
Rinke dropped the sack, gripped the sheet with both hands and hurled it towards them. It spread out, scant amounts of light filtering through the holes in the weave.
Rinke thrashed as the flames spread. The cloth burned away to show pallid, gnarled flesh, a face without ears, nose or brow – only recessed, piglike eyes and a mouth that was little more than a ragged gash across the lower half of his face.
It took several minutes for the entire thing to burn. They didn’t relax a second.
The sound of distant gunfire cut through the quiet.
“What?” Holler asked.
Evan spoke into the radio, “Hear gunfire. Report, over.”
The response came back, “Hostiles!”
That wasn’t Rinke we shot. There’s others.
The other realization hit him just as hard.
“He’s not a Changer!” Evan bellowed, clicking the button of his radio to inform the capes and squad three. “Master-class cape!”
↑Nilbog was immensely fat, easily four hundred pounds, and sat on a throne that had apparently been cobbled together from dismantled furniture. His face was covered with a paper mask. Other creatures sat on chairs to his left and right.
In the midst of my search, I found something.
He sat directly beneath his ‘throne’, and was connected to the fat man by what seemed to be an umbilical cord. This cord gave him control of the body, fed him sustenance, let him stay safe while the decoy sat up here. - Excerpt from Sting 26.4
↑ 13.013.113.2He can't pull anything from thin air. He needs to be in contact with X amount of helpless biomass to produce X amount of minionstuff. If the target can move, they can fight free of the enclosing sac. Once enclosed, it's a question of being transferred from one point of contact with Nilbog to another, processed as they pass through his body. The hunchback and robe are basically containers for the biomass (rendered into a slurry) that he's carrying on his person, and he wears a goblin suit (basically a created goblin with a Nilbog-shaped hole he can climb into) for the strength to haul it about. - Comment by Wildbow on Spacebattles
↑ClubOfJacks: I thought his powers followed the laws of conservation of matter and energy. In other words to create a first generation Monster he would need: 1) pre-existing Body to be altered (whether it was initially Dead or alive). 2) Sustainable food source (Townspeople and animals living in the town before he got there). But since its been implied that he creates his things out of thin air, and can keep them active without feeding them, I feel less creeped out. But only just a smidge.
Wildbow: Psst. Hunchback… hump on his back, like a camel. A camel stores water and Nilbog stores…
Anzer'ke: Now see, those three dots at the end unsettle me worse than the entire chapter. - Comment by Wildbow on Interlude 16.x
“That’s what he called himself. He’s alive and presumably well. I saw out the window as the chopper pulled us out, Nilbog retreating to hide in some building, his creatures were returning to their hiding places. I expect the man will be alive for some time.”
“Why?” She wheezed the question.
“Far as I could tell, he’s wearing one of his creations. Made him bulletproof, maybe fireproof. We won’t be able to bomb the area. He’s created beasts that multiply if you set them on fire. Did you see those?”
She shook her head.
“He may have other countermeasures for other courses of action. You’ll get your chance to talk to the Chief Director, but last I heard, they’re planning to wall the city off. They’ll let the motherfucker be the god of his own little town, so long as he doesn’t try to expand any further, which they’re saying he won’t. I almost envy him.” - Excerpt from Interlude 16.x
↑“Your people are slowly starving. You make them eat each other to live, and desperately attempt to shoot any birds out of the sky so you can try to recoup what you lose. Bonesaw said they don’t live long. How long?” - Excerpt from Sting 26.4
↑Nilbog had no doubt designed them to live off of a diet of insects, to supplement their diminishing supply of protein. - Excerpt from Sting 26.5
↑“If you want proof that Jack intends to betray you, look no farther than your own creations.”
“He’s secreted an assassin into your midst. A killer who pretends to be one of your creations.”
A gamble, a last ditch effort. Was my gut right? Had Jack instructed Bonesaw to create a costume or a creature to hide the Siberian’s creator?
I called my flight pack to me, parked it on a rooftop nearby. If it came down to it, I’d have to run. I could see Golem tensing. He’d read the situation right.
“Just look,” I told Nilbog. “Because somewhere nearby, there’s a creature you didn’t create.”
His eyes roved over the crowd.
“Might not be in this crowd, but it’ll be close.”
“I see it,” Nilbog said. “I see it. Bossy, Patch, hold him!”
The crowd of creatures parted as two creatures took another in their hands.
“Not an assassin,” Jack said. “Merely one of Bonesaw’s… I suppose you can call it a homage.” - Excerpt from Sting 26.4
↑ 20.020.1“You’re the third to get this far. One of only two that could talk.”
Third? She wanted to ask, but she was worried about the response.
“I didn’t make you, did I? You were birthed. You look like Polka’s get.”
She nodded, hard, head rubbing against his shirt as she clutched tighter. He knew her. He didn’t know her but he knew where she was from and so he knew her.
“Polka the third?”
“Fourth,” she said. “But thank you for thinking I’m like the third. She was the most beautiful and clever.”
↑“We’re not alone out there, so be careful about where you’re shooting. This place’s got a population of about five thousand. Sort of town that has only the one movie theater. But whatever this bastard Rinke is doing, we think he’s operating from somewhere near the middle of the area. Three helicopters in the air, three squads of six, and a team from Toronto’s Protectorate division backing us up. We move in a spiral pattern to close in on the center of this podunk town, see if we can’t squeeze him out of hiding, and we maintain radio contact with the other squads at all times so everyone knows what’s going on.” - Excerpt from Interlude 16.x
↑I could sense them. Easily two hundred of the Nine, accompanied by a mess of Nilbog’s creations, hooked up to Bonesaw’s control frames. Nilbog hung on the wall above the group, limbs splayed, tubes feeding into him as blobs dropped down and were captured by a small army of mechanical soldiers. - Excerpt from Sting 26.6
↑A good fifth of our fighting force here was made up of Nilbog’s creatures and Dragon’s suits, which self-repaired and kludged together with the remains of other damaged suits to return to the field again and again.
He was throwing punches again, hurling himself into the thickest parts of the crowd. Nilbog’s creations were taking the brunt of the attack.
We were distant enough that I could see the circle of golden light expanding around them, a ring that ripped through the ground, demolishing it.
Nilbog’s creations, the defending forces and Dragon’s suits were all toppled as the ground settled. Buildings collapsed.
A wounded Leviathan emerged from the water, approaching Scion with an almost lazy slowness. Capes practically fought one another to get their footing and get out of the way. Some were too rough in their hurry to get by Nilbog’s creations, only to get attacked by the things in retaliation. - Excerpt from Speck 30.2
↑► Nutty Replied on August 17th, Y1 @ Boosher – This article, search for Nancy Y’s statement. People traveling across the US to get to portals are being warned about multiple threats. Word on the capevine is that with everyone having pulled out, all former quarantine zones are breached. In the US and elsewhere. Nilbog is the one everyone knows about. He’s in custody, his children aren’t. If you’re paying attention to hero groups and their movements, they’re making lots of trips out. They’re tired and people say they’re aloof. I say they’re fighting a hard fight and they’re keeping their distance from public and media because they don’t want us to know it. - Excerpt from Glow-worm P.1
“In custody. Cooperating. Effectively retired. Turns out that living off of cupcakes made of goblin puke and having next to no mental or social stimulation kind of grinds you down.” - Excerpt from Sundown 17.9