Well, this is annoying. At least it’s easy to resolve I guess.

I dematerialize enough of my body to reach through it and grab the wrist holding the knife, then drag the offending human through to suspend them next to the spikey armored one. Then I wrap the two of them together side by side with more of my feelers.

The other two humans don’t seem particularly threatening, considering they’re both nearly paralyzed from the full-blast wave of my Auras they’ve already weathered.

It’s time for interrogation!

“I already have a handful of guesses, but I’d rather hear it from you.” I lean closer to the two suspended humans, close enough that they can feel my breath and the ash lacing it. “Why are you here, and why are you deliberately harming my kin and members of my retinue? And I do hope you have a good reason; my retainer spent mana to move us here, mana that could have been used for other purposes.”

Ah, that was enough for the stabby one to join the spikey one in soiling themself.

And they just shake and babble instead of coherently answering. A sigh escapes me.

“Let’s try something different then.” I drop them both in a heap and ease my Auras back slightly. “Yes, I understand that I am terrifying, as are my retainers. It's not often that the average adventurer – or average bandit for that matter – runs across an angry god. But you should know as well as most that when one asks you a question... you should answer.”

One of the unsoiled ones, the one holding a staff, manages to at least squeeze out one word accompanied by the knocking of their knees. “Q-quest!”

I tilt my head and drift closer to the speaker. “You are here on a quest? From an adventurer’s guild, I’d presume then... nod if that’s accurate.”

The human nods frantically.

“A quest to do what? Attack my people? My kin? Delay my efforts to restore my plane?”

Another few moments pass in silence.

And then I feel a tug at my robes and turn to see Izahne looking very much like she wants to ask a question.

But Nyx beats her to it, materializing behind the humans in a puff of ash. “You know, you can probably get better answers if you’re not crushing their minds flat with your full presence. They’re just mortals, after all. Mortals tend to be pretty weak of will.”

“You’re not wrong.” I drop my Auras completely, and the four slump to the ground.

Pearl dashes forward, casting a few quick diagnostic spells to make sure I didn’t completely break the fools, but from the look of mute terror on their faces, I’d say they’re at least capable of processing that much.

“Now that we have that much settled, I want to know more. And you are going to tell me.” I materialize my throne, and my retainers take their places around it – except for Nyx, who huffs a breath and dematerializes instead.

That’s not a problem though, I’ll offer her that allowance considering all the work she put into my resurrection.

Or... growth, I guess? Initial growth?

Anyway, she made figuring out how to deal with humans much easier.

Then I spawn a few dozen of my kin and move them to encircle the area for the dramatic effect.

“Decorum would require that if I’m demanding information from you, I should at least introduce myself. I am the Queen of Hunger and goddess of night. I am the confluence of envy and all-mother of wraiths. I am Nemesis, and you stand on the soil of my plane. Though you are unwelcome intruders, I will permit you the opportunity to explain yourselves.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I shift in my seat to the comfortable position I rediscovered days ago at my small pocket house.

“So start explaining.”

“W-we’re on a guild q-quest!” the spikey one stammers.

I sigh and let the ash settle on its own. “Yes, yes. I’ve gathered that from the staff human. Continue.”

The stabby one keeps glancing at their dagger lying a dozen feet away, but doesn’t make a move toward it. I can’t say I care, and it’s clearly not a threat to me, so I manifest a feeler and snatch it off the ground, making the humans flinch. Then I hold it in the air in front of its owner.

“Take it. You’re no good to me distracted, and if you’re just going to glance at it anyway, you may as well have it.”

The human gingerly takes it, and after a moment of hesitation they return it to its sheath on the back of their belt.

“I hope if nothing else, I’ve demonstrated that I’m reasonable enough for a monster. Now, let’s get on with it. EXPLAIN.”

They all take a step back. Which is fine, they’re not going anywhere while encircled.

And so we sit (or stand) in silence for a moment before one of them manages to speak. It’s human number four, carrying a large shield.

“The guild had a quest to kill wraiths and investigate weird plants here.”

I sigh again. “First of all, you will stop killing wraiths here. They are my kin. They are me and I am them, and harm done to them is harm done to me. I will not tolerate it further.” I shift in my seat, switching which leg is over the other. “Second, I will send you back to your handlers with samples of my razorvines, both of the monster itself and of the fruit which it produces. I expect in the future that it will serve to be a planar export. Also, one of my associates has extensive research notes regarding them that should be passed along to an appropriate authority – I will pay you to deliver a copy to a specific individual by the name of Mimir. He can be found at the Mains District Adventurer’s Guild on the hive. I will also require you to deliver a copy to Headmaster Owyn of the New Iden Hero Academy. Do you understand?”

Four heads nod rapidly. Good.

I turn my head to the side. “Is this acceptable to you, Abaris?”

The obounis thinks for a moment. “I believe so, yes, although at present I only have one copy of my notes.”

I hold out a hand expectantly and Abaris produces a stack of papers from his dimensional storage. And then I cast a spell.

“{create duplicate}.”

A second set of pages appears in my other hand, after which I hand the original back to the stunned mage. After two more casts, I offer the stack to Olive who takes them with a quiet, “This one serves.” She then drifts them to the shielder on small platforms of blue fire.

“Omorth, go fetch me a sample of razorvine fruit, and one razorvine severed at the root.”

“Yes, my queen,” the possessed sword answers, dematerializing his false body and flying through the air overhead while I cringe slightly at how he addressed me.

Less than a minute, he returns and disgorges the requested materials from his dimensional storage on the ground in front of the humans.

“This is all you require, yes?” I ask, forcing some false patience into my delivery.

The four humans glance at each other before nodding quickly.

“Good. Now get off my plane.”

After gathering the materials, the four humans huddle together and vanish with a flash of orange light.

“Gods, that was annoying,” I whine.

“I suppose you should come to expect it,” Abaris says. “Typically, the husk is only used as a training ground for crazy or desperate adventurers not afraid of dying to the hordes of wraiths and being lost to history.”

“Don’t call it that,” I snap.

“Hmm? What are you referring to?”

I level a glare at the obounis. “Don’t call my home a husk. Call it The Shadowed Plane. I’m restoring it, it’s not a husk.”

He gives me an awkward grin and gestures placatingly. Good enough I guess.

Anyway, where were we?

Ah right, I was making more clergy to keep the faith for all the townsfolk who don’t exist.

...

I should probably resolve that at some point, but for that I’d need to be able to leave this plane. I could probably try to make a spell for it, but I wouldn’t have a way to nondestructively test it...

Oh well. I’ll deal with that later. I stand and dematerialize my throne, drawing the ash back into myself. Then I turn to my fox spirit.

“Olive, take us to the next town.”

Another flash of blue later and we stand in the central square of yet another empty town. My fuzzy-tailed retainer leads us on to the front door of the temple – another small one, appropriate for the small town – and I promptly get to work creating another homunculus priest.

...

“Abaris, do these things age? I’m pretty sure they don’t need to eat since their needs are provided by drawing planar mana.”

“They shouldn’t age as long as their mana supply is constant,” the obounis answers promptly.

“Good. I was briefly concerned that I’d have to keep making replacements.”

I’ve just finished forming the most recent of my faithful when a thought strikes me.

“Olive.”

“This one serves,” she answers.

“If you can teleport us all over the plane... can you teleport us to other planes?”