Mithihotep and the Portrait

by Mithihotep the Indomitable

On the planet of Memphara a war is in progress between the ancient Necrons and the barbaric Orks. The Greenskins have wiped out all the Imperial inhabitants. Mithihotep the Indomitable, Phaeron of the Laurekh Dynasty, wanders alone through the ruins of the main Hive City. Short oneshot. Not sure if it's completed yet or if I'll add extra bits in.

Just a little piece I thought of to pass the time, set during the events of the larger story Sea of Grey, Tide of Green, which my ally Sarnakh is working on. Similar to an Aesop's fable-type story.

Mithihotep and the Portrait

Mithihotep the Indomitable wandered through the dusty remains of the Imperial city, alone. As he strode slowly through the abandoned streets, following the left-hand side of the main road, he gazed around at the shells of human buildings lying either side of him, like corpses with their flesh stripped from them. The Greenskins had pillaged everything from this place - not a single artefact for him to scavenge for his collection. Then he spotted a small, dilapidated building set apart from the rest, a small place of worship that was bedecked in the ugly architecture that the humans so loved. He approached the structure and forced open the ceramite door.

There was just a single, small room with a rug on the stone floor and a small altar. A human dressed in priestly robes was slumped forward on the rug with a massive blunt blade, presumably one that the Krork had made, sticking out of his back. He had been stabbed while praying.

Mithihotep picked up the corpse with one hand and slung it out of the doorway - not even in death were the humans polite enough to make way for his magnificence - and entered the small chapel. The doorway was too small for Mithihotep's tall Necron frame but he broke into the building easily enough.

On the wall at the front was a huge portrait of a human female, clad in golden armour and with wings sticking out from her back. In her right hand she clutched a long blade, and scrolls extended from her red dress under her armour. All around her there were fat little humans with their own stubby wings fluttering around her, and a blaze of light from the harsh desert sun illuminated the effigy of the Living Saint in all her glory.

Mithihotep inspected the portrait for quite a while.

"How revolting. My Lunari was far more delicate and beautiful than that," Mithihotep said at last in disgust, "How pathetic these humans were to think that such an unattractive female is even worth looking at, let alone worshipping. They know nothing of true beauty."

Then, seeing nothing else of interest, he gave a melancholy sigh, coughed three times and turned his back on the artwork, leaving the chapel with the door open, so that the sun could get to work in bleaching the glorious icon that was so revered by the people of the Hive City.