Steel, Shadows, and Sorcery

by Cog Archival


Berserker vs the World: Part 1

“Summer Sun Celebration official overseer's checklist. Number one, banquet preparations: Sweet Apple Acres,” the small purple and green dragon read from the list he was clutching in one claw. The pebbles on the dirt path rasped and crunched against the scales on his feet as he walked quickly along the path to keep up with the impatient pace that his sometimes boss, sometimes big sister figure was setting.

The aforementioned official overseer was a purple unicorn, with a mane that was a darker indigo, with a violet and magenta streak just over one of her eyes. The cutie mark on her flank, a pink and white eight-pointed star surrounded by several smaller white stars, showed that her talents lay with magic, while the faint look of exasperation and worry in her eyes showed that this was a mare with a lot on her mind. Indeed, Twilight Sparkle, personal student to Princess Celestia and would-be-preventer-of-the-apocalypse, had a lot on her mind at the moment. Namely, the prophecy she had discovered earlier that day. If the books she had consulted were correct, than today would be the last day of full sunlight that Equestria would ever see, as tomorrow was the thousandth Summer Sun Celebration, and thus marked the end of Nightmare Moon’s millenium long exile on the moon. While Celestia may have dismissed her concerns as silly, Twilight knew deep within that she was right, and what’s more, that she was the only one who could hope to prevent Equestria from being plunged into unending night. In order to do that, she would have to find some proof of Nightmare Moon’s return, along with some way to stop her.

But first, she had to oversee the preparations for the Summer Sun Celebration. Twilight fought down the irrational urge to blame the universe for thwarting her efforts to save it. However, she did frown as she looked over the apple trees all around her, as well as the rapidly approaching farmhouse.

“Strange. You’d think that there would be ponies out preparing for tomorrow-”

Twilight’s musings were cut off short by a sudden, unearthly howl. Twilight found it difficult to describe it exactly, as she had never heard anything like it before. The closest comparison that she could think of was that it was like the sound of metal being twisted and torn until it simply tore apart like paper, that quickly rose into an almost lupine howl of insanity and rage: rage and pain and a desire to do nothing more than kill anything unfortunate to be close to whatever was making that Celestia-forsaken NOISE.

Twilight realized instinctively that she should be running. Whatever was capable of making a noise like that was not something that she ever close to, but Twilight was a smart mare. She knew that whatever was making that noise was not only already close enough to be a threat, but that it was extremely unlikely to be unrelated to tomorrow’s events. So, against her better judgement, Twilight ran towards the sound of the screams, and rounded the farmhouse to see a scene straight out of nightmares.

A group of some two dozen ponies were running about, screaming in terror and pain as a black beast rushed through them like a vengeful whirlwind. Twilight couldn’t make out much about the creature: it was covered in some kind of black armor and cloaked in shadows, and stood upright on two legs, that much she could tell. It was tall enough that the average pony’s head came up to the about the level of its waist. The head had numerous thin, striplike pennants protruding from the back, and a glowing-red horizontal slit in front, which was presumably where its eyes were. Absently, Twilight noted the cross shaped cutouts at the two ends of the eye slit.

Twilight had seen the Wonderbolts perform on a number of occasions, and more than that, she had seen the way Spike moved whenever he heard that the local jeweler was having a sale, whether or not it was true. She was no stranger to seeing things move at dazzlingly high speeds, but this, whatever it was, was right up there with the best of them, if not faster. It would slam an armored backhand or uppercut into whatever pony was unfortunate enough to be within its reach, sending them flying off to crash into the farmhouse of the orchard, before either leaping or charging towards the closest pony that was out of its reach, and the process would repeat.

The thing that struck her the most, Twilight thought absently with the part of her mind that wasn’t screaming mutely in shock, wasn’t the violence the thing was displaying, nor was it the terror that she felt just being in the thing’s presence: it was the sheer speed and power that it displayed.

A red stallion with a green mane was grabbed by the throat and thrown screaming right through a window of the farmhouse, and was followed shortly after by a mare with orange caramel fur and a slightly lighter green mane.

Each blow, for all its speed, seemed to bear all of the attention and malice of a pony waving away a fly distractedly: it was as though each individual pony only registered within the beast’s twisted mind long enough to swat it away, and then it immediately lost all interest in it.

A pale teal mare flew into one of the nearby apple trees, dislodging enough apples to fill up all of the baskets placed underneath it.

Yet for all that, its blows were still absurdly powerful: each pony it hit either flew almost twenty feet through the air, or skid along the ground for a good ten feet with a sickening crunching and scraping sound that Twilight just knew had to be the sound of bones breaking and scraping on one another.

It wasn’t until Twilight saw the beast punt an orange-yellow stallion wearing a brown vest and a ten gallon hat right through the wall of the farmhouse that she finally broke out the dispassioned state of shock that she had been in.

“Wha- You! Stop that, right now, you monster!” Twilight yelled as loudly as she could, over the sound of ponies screaming and crying in fear and pain- dear Celestia, how was that mare’s leg even bending like that? She channeled all of her fear, as well as her righteous indignation at the situation. These were hardworking farmponies, who more likely than not had never hurt anypony before, so why was this thing just destroying them like this? What gave it the right to do this?

A moment later, Twilight regretted her bravery, as the thing stopped dead in its tracks, right as it was about to slam a fist into the face of an enormous red stallion with orange hair, and a yoke around his neck. Slowly, ever so slowly, it turned to face her. Twilight felt her burst of bravado abandon her completely as she met the things crimson gaze, and her fear only deepened when the thing kept turning its head, until it was no longer looking right at her, but just to the right of her, to where a certain baby dragon was now trembling in abject fear. Suddenly, Twilight knew that the thing was looking right at Spike, and Spike alone.

*** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-**

HURT KILL STRIKE GREEN HORSE HIT YELLOW HORSE (don’t) KILL ALL OF THEM PUNCH STRIKE KILL KILL DEAD (shouldn’t) KILL ORANGE HORSE KILL RED- NOISE
PURPLE HORSE KILL THE PURPLE-
DRAGON
PURPLE DRAGON
SLAY THE DRAGON SLAY THE DRAGON SLAY THE DRAGON SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY SLAY

*** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-** *** - * * *-**

“GRRRAAAAAAUGH!”

Just as suddenly as it had stopped, the monster was moving again, charging towards Spike with both spiked claws outstretched. One second it was close to twenty feet away, and the next it was right in front of Spike as it jumped to tackle the baby dragon-

BUMF

Twilight frowned at the sound the beast made as it slammed face first into the force field that she had hastily erected. Instead of the reassuring ‘bonk’ that she would have expected, or even the not so reassuring smashing sound as it shattered the field like a sledge hammer hitting a snow globe, it had hit the field with an almost organic squishing sound that was like a hoof poking an inflated balloon. Then Twilight’s blood ran cold as she saw that the beast had not been stopped by her force field. Rather, it had simply been slowed down, as the thing had managed to get its head and shoulders part of the way through the field, before finally stopping. However, it did not seem at all deterred, as it merely growled, before pulling itself slightly back out of the field, raising its hands up and putting them together back to back, then thrusting them into the force field like two spearheads. Twilight growled with exertion as she channeled more power into the field, making it harder, but the black beast simply continued to force its hands forward, until its fingers were all the way through the field, at which point it started pushing its hands apart, tearing the magical field like it was thick taffy. Twilight planted her hooves and concentrated, but to no avail: the beast kept pushing its body through, and then the field, stressed beyond its limit, snapped and broke, the magical backlash hitting Twilight like a sucker punch to the forehead, causing her to jerk backwards before sitting down hard as she felt her horn vibrate painfully. She looked up through her bangs tearily as the black beast reached towards Spike, who was not moving an inch, save for the shaking of his shoulders as he hyperventilated.

Just then, a rope lasso settled over the black beasts upper arms and yanked tight, drawing its arms into its body instantly. The beast roared in confusion as it vainly tried to reach for Spike, who seemed to wake up enough to take a shaky step backwards.

“Get outta here, ya buzzard gutted, cloud headed yellow son of a fruit bat!” Twilight looked past the Beast to see a light orange mare with a blond mane in a ponytail and wearing a cowboy hat holding the other end of the lasso tightly in her teeth while steadily cussing out the monster. Her green eyes flashed with both rage and unshed tears, as she pulled harder on the lasso… and utterly failed to move the beast. It slowly turned its head down towards where the rope was wrapped around its upper arms, as if noticing it for the first time. Then it turned its head towards the rope-wielding mare, as she continued pulling on the rope with all of her might. The beast didn’t budge even as much as an inch, as it leaned its weight away to counteract the pull. Then its right hand blurred up and seized the rope that was restraining it. It seemed to finger the rope for a moment, like a musician considering the strings on an instrument, and then its grip on the rope slammed shut like a vice.

A black stain seemed to spread over the rope from where the beast was grabbing it, spreading out to cover the entirety of the lasso almost instantly. The startled farm mare dropped the rope the moment the blackness reached her mouth, spitting the taste out of her mouth as glowing red lines appeared up and down the length of the rope, almost looking like unholy molten veins showing through a demon’s skin. The color wasn’t the only thing to change: wherever stray threads poked out along the rope’s length, it grew barb like protrusions. Instantly, the things posture changed, crouching lower and reaching up to grasp the rope with both hands, while effortlessly freeing itself from the rope with a simple shrug. It twirled the lasso up over its head like an expert, before letting go of the rope with one hand and grabbing hold of the knotted portion of the rope. The beast then proceeded to crack the rope in the air as though it were a bullwhip.

The orange mare just had time to say “oh, hayfeathers” before the beast sent the makeshift whip slashing through the air towards her, tangling it around her neck and the one leg she tried to raise to ward of the cursed rope. With a violent yank, the beast pulled her right off her hooves, right into the air, and then released her from the rope’s grasp in midair with a flick of its wrist, slingshotting the poor mare straight into the branches of a nearby apple tree. Twilight barely had time to take in what had just happened the rope was shooting towards her, and wrapping around her neck.

Twilight let out a strangled gasp, but was just barely able to wrap the rope in her own telekinetic magic to try to prevent a repeat of the swinging pony incident. She breathed easily for a moment- and then the rope ran out of slack. For just the barest of seconds, the rope remained still while her magic warred with Berserker’s strength. A half second into the contest, Berserker upped the force of the pull, and Twilight’s telekinetic hold shattered instantly, as he pulled her choking form forward effortlessly, dragging her through the dirt as she desperately tried to get back on her hooves, to just get a foothold-

“Leave Twilight alone, you monster!” Spike stepped in between Twilight and the black beast, holding his arms up as if to shield Twilight from the thing’s presence. His voice trembled with fear as he continued, saying “I’ll have you know that just because I’m still a baby dragon, doesn’t make me any less of a dragon- urk!”

Spike was cut off by the beast dropping the lasso, which quickly turned back to normal, and leaping over to Spike, slamming a foot down onto Spike’s chest to hold him down. The beast seemed to look at him for a moment, helmet tilted inquisitively, before it started growling.

“Grrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaa….”

As it held up both hands in front of its chest, one held over the other, fingers curled as if holding on to some invisible object, the growling grew louder.

“Grrrrrraaaaaaaaaaauuugh…”

As Twilight watched dazedly, the shadows that had cloaked the thing constantly seemed to lighten, exposing the dark steel beneath. No, she realized, the shadows weren’t dispersing, they were moving, flowing up its legs, across its chest, down its arms, and into the space within its grip, coalescing into something. Twilight spared a glance downwards as she pawed at the rope still around her neck, though thankfully not as tight as before: the thing’s feet and lower legs were entirely visible, and Spike was breathing as quickly and deeply as he could with an armored foot pressing down on his chest, his wide eyes locked on the gathering mist in the thing’s hands. Twilight looked back up to see a purple glow forming within the mist, that started to lengthen and extend out from the beast’s hands like a blade of light, and panicked.

“NO!” With that cry of rage and determination, Twilight channeled all of the fear, worry, and rage she was feeling at that moment into a single blast of energy that slammed into the beast at point blank range. This was a blast that could shatter stone walls, and so while the blow was reduced by the thing’s armor and apparent disregard for magic, the entirety of such a destructive blast just couldn’t be blocked.

The beast went flying backwards, roaring as it went, its shadows spreading back out over its form as whatever it had been preparing was dispelled by the sudden break in its concentration. By chance, Twilight’s spell had knocked it towards the huge red stallion from before, who saw the beast flying towards him, and reflexively turned to face away from it, before bringing both his hind legs up into an apple bucking position. He waited a second for the beast to get within range, and then slammed both hooves straight into him, with all the force of an enraged elder brother.

KABLAM

Now the beast was flying through the air, but in the opposite direction. Twilight just had time to take in the fact that the red stallion had just collapsed, bellowing in agony, when the beast flew right over her head, still roaring in pain or rage, or whatever it was that motivated it. As it flew overhead, Twilight gathered her power once more, concentrating it into her horn, readying herself to protect her little brother Spike, the orange mare and red stallion, and all of the other ponies there. Twilight prepared herself to utterly blow this monster away so that it wouldn’t be able to hurt anypony ever again! She readied the power that she had stored up, concentrating it into a bolt of destructive power, opening her eyes once more to lock onto her target, who was just starting to drift closer to the ground…

And then she released the bolt.

BLAM

“GRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”

Twilight panted heavily as she watched the roaring black blur fade into the distance. She knew she’d put a lot of power into that strike, but still: even she was impressed that it had knocked the thing so far away.
A low whistle to her right caught Twilight’s attention. She turned to see the orange farm mare from before, standing on shaky legs as she stared off in the direction the monster had vanished.

“That was… that was…”

“A very unpleasant experience,” Twilight quipped. The other mare nodded in response.

“Ah’m Applejack. Ah’d show y’all around the place, but….” Applejack’s voice trailed off as she turned to look at her extended family. “We’ve kinda got some big problems now. An’ we were just about finished- Big Mac!” Applejack broke off her sentence with a panicked shout as she galloped over to the large red stallion, favoring her left front leg as she ran. As Applejack checked over her brother, Twilight turned to Spike, who had fallen into unconsciousness at some point. Twilight couldn’t find it in herself to blame him, the experience had been terrifying. Whatever the beast that they had just faced was, Twilight had no idea. Whatever it was, it wasn’t of this world, she felt: the thing had radiated a sense of power and otherness. The only thing Twilight could think of was that it was somehow like being in the presence of Princess Celestia.

Twilight gasped. The princess would not be happy with this! The beast had disrupted the food preparations, and if Twilight had just shown up a little earlier, it might not have happened, and the Princess would be mad, and might even send her back to-

“Miss! Miss, mah brotha needs help!”

Twilight was roused from her descent into shock by a small filly’s voice. Shaking her head, Twilight looked up to see an inordinately adorable filly with yellow fur and a light pink mane tied up with an enormous bow.

“Please miss, we think his legs are broken! He needs ta get to th’ hospital.” The filly blinked, and looked down at the ground.
“Him, an’ everypony else,” she added on.

Twilight breathed out,, trying to bring her old foal sitter’s lessons on calming breaths to her mind. “Alright, don’t worry, I’ll help. My name’s Twilight Sparkle. What’s yours?”

“Ah’m Applebloom. You’ve met my big sis already,” she gestured towards where Applejack was awaiting them, holding Big Mac’s hooves in her own as he breathed deeply, trying not to move, “an’ that’s mah brother Big Macintosh.”

Twilight nodded. “Pleasure to meet you. I don’t think I can levitate everypony to the hospital, so we’ll need to figure out who can’t walk on their own, and I’ll try to move them first. Uh…” Twilight frowned as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Where is the hospital, anyway?”

Applejack pointed back down the road Twilight had come in on. “It’s that way, just on outside of Ponyville, opposite from Sweet Apple Acres.”

“Alright, thank you. We should also send someone to run to the hospital to send stretchers for everypony I can’t…” Twilight trailed off mid sentence as a horrifying realization struck her. “Applejack, did you say that Ponyville is that way?”

Applejack frowned. “Yeah, it is, same as its always been. I think we’ve got some mighty big concerns here though, so could you worry about where we are on the map later?”

Twilight just stared blankly at Applejack. “That’s the same direction that we just launched that monster.”

Inside the Apple family farmhouse, a decorative plate fell off the wall, producing a delicate shattering noise that was perfectly audible to all in the otherwise unmarred silence that followed Twilight’s epiphany. Then Applejack hung her head.

“Oh, hayfeathers.”

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At that very moment, deep within the Everfree forest, in the mostly-forgotten castle of the pony sisters, a certain sorcerer was trying his best not to panic himself.

“Alright, so we may be in a castle that looks like something from that stupid show. It may be that somehow, our replica armor is now real, and by the looks of it,” he cast a critical eye over the strands of lightning lazily crawling across the head of his staff, “so are the powers that go with it. That doesn’t mean, however, that we actually have been turned into Ahzek Ahriman and sent to Eques-iville, or whatever it’s called.”

The newly named Ahriman look alike stood there in silence for a moment, contemplating the conclusions that he had just reached. Then his shoulders seemed to sag, and he sat down heavily, the ground shaking slightly from the impact of close to 500 pounds of ceramite and genetically enhanced space marine. He breathed very deeply in and out for several long minutes, staring numbly ahead. Finally, his baritone voice rumbled out once more.

“Oh god, how did I get here? How am I supposed to… what’s going on back home? Am I… am I dead? Is this….” He trailed off once more, the pistol and staff both falling from numb fingers as he stared at his hands, before raising them up to cradle his head in gauntleted hands.

“What am I supposed to do? This can’t be real… but what if it is? What about my parents? Or my friends? I mean, we just lost Jack, and now I’m gone too… what if this is some trick by some demented serial killer, and he’s got me pumped up with drugs while doing who knows what and oh god, what are Mom and Dad thinking right now? They must be so…” A deep groaning noise came from the blue figure, as it seemed to rock back and forth a little, before it quietly whispered the words “This can’t be real.”

At that, Ahriman’s head popped back up. “Wait, what am I talking about? Of course this isn’t real! It must be some kind of dream, or lucid dream, or coma. All I have to do is find out how to wake up!” Ahriman clenched a fist resolutely as he glanced around the spacious hall, before seeming to slump again. “Then again, throwing myself off a cliff may not be the best idea right now. For one, if I’m actually a chaos marine now, that may not be enough to put me in enough danger to wake me up.” He folded his arms, and looked down over his seated form. “Then again, maybe that’s it! Ahriman is one of the greatest psykers in the entire Warhammer lexicon, if anyone can figure out how to get home, he would! And if I really do have his abilities, then using them will probably be the stimulus needed to wake up. I’m a genius!” Having thus proclaimed his course of action, Ahriman started rummaging about his person, before finding four thin scrolls attached to his belt by a hook at one end. He looked at them quizzically, then detached one of them and held it up for closer inspection.

“Weird, Ahriman doesn’t usually have these on his belt. I should know, I did a lot of research for my costume.” The sorcerer eyed the small flap that held the scroll shut, and the twisted flame that was the symbol of Tzeentch that was emblazoned on it. He cautiously reached up, and undid the flap, gingerly unrolling the scroll to reveal an expanse of vellum that was covered in strange black sigils and scripts. He huffed as he examined the unfamiliar language. “Well, this is not a good start.”

Suddenly, the markings on the page started to move, flowing and shifting in an almost organic way, centreing themselves in the center of the page, and turning blue before arranging themselves to spell out two sentences.

DOOMBOLT LEARNED. KEEP, OR TAKE PRIMARIS?

Underneath his helmet, Ahriman blinked. “Um, keep?”

On the scroll, the letters shifted, rearranging and multiplying.

DOOMBOLT LEARNED. LEARNING SECOND REQUIRED POWER. BREATH OF CHAOS LEARNED. KEEP, OR TAKE PRIMARIS?

Ahriman shrugged the best he could while still wearing full power armor. “I suppose I’ll keep it,” he mused, watching as the letters turned back to black, before spreading out over the scroll once again to form incomprehensible scribbles. “Not really sure what that’s all about, though, but- whoa!” The scroll in his hands seemed to jump, as it ripped itself out of his hands, curling itself up and refastening its buckle. “What is that? Some kind of possessed scroll? And what did it mean, ‘learned doom-’ wait a second.”

Ahriman looked at his empty hands for a second, turned to look at the staff that he had dropped earlier. Reaching out to gingerly pick it up, he hefted it comfortably as he stood up, the worn staff fitting in his armored hand as though it had been made for him. Which it actually had, in more ways than one. Standing, the would-be sorcerer turned to look down main hall, towards the tapestry that had so offended him earlier. Raising the Black Staff, he focused his mind on a single thought, and uttered a single word.

“Doombolt.”

Instantly, a solid sphere of blue plasma and orange fire appeared on the end of his staff. It spun momentarily, fiery streamers crackling outwards from it, before it shrank in on itself, condensing into a solid ball of purplish energy. It then exploded outwards as a stream of solid violet energy, crackling with lightning and howling with energy and- was that the screaming of damned souls? Nah, can’t be- slammed into the tapestry, and the attached wall.

The wall itself shattered explosively, a hole large enough for a grown man or mare instantly appearing in a cloud of brick dust, heat shimmers, and a few drifting trails of leftover lightning. The tapestry? You mean the one with the two alicorn princesses on it? Yeah, it is gone. It was reduced to nothing more than a cloud of ashes instantly. Granted, there were a few scraps left, but they were quickly being consumed by the fire spreading across them.

Ahriman looked at the scraps as they burned, seeing the flames quickly cover the teal colored eye on one of them as it drifted through the air. Pointing his staff directly at it, he muttered another incantation.

“Breath of Chaos.”

Instantly, he flinched as he felt a sudden heat well up within his throat, mouth, and lungs. It felt as though he were drawing in not just all of the heat around him, but also all of the emotions, the hate and anger and fear, still echoing in this forsaken place so many years after those who lived here fought each other. He drew all of those feeling into himself, feeling as though he held pure, concentrated fire with a hint of malice and corruption within himself. He then opened his mouth, and let it all out shoot straight out with a bubbling roar.

The shimmering phosphorescent fire that emerged from the breathing slits in his helmet was beautiful, in a terrible way. It flashed with impossible colors, flared with unheard of scents, flowed into improbable sounds. Writhing within the fire were faint shapes that could have come straight out of a Lovecraftian story, and over the sound of the rushing fire two sounds could be heard. One, the hissing sound as the fire met cold stone and warped it, corroding and burning away decades worth of wear in the space of only a few seconds.

The other was a slow chuckle, that gradually rose into something that some might call ‘maniacal laughter,’ but that most would describe as being like the laughter of a child who had just opened a present to find a new and truly wonderful toy within.

“The Force is strong with this one, indeed,” Ahriman mused as he bent over to pick up the Tzeentch scroll from the ground, before clipping it to his belt and removing the other three scrolls to examine them. “This could turn out to be a fun little hallucination after all.”

The faint glow from his helmet’s eye sockets and staff reflected off the buckles holding the scrolls closed, letting his enhanced eyes easily read the embossed label on each one: Biomancy, Telepathy, and Pyromancy. “Oh yes, very fun indeed.”

Arhiman’s stats:
Weapon Skill: 5 (Skill in close combat)
Ballistic Skill: 5 (Skill with ranged weapons)
Strength: 4
Toughness: 4
Attacks: 3 (How many attacks can be made during close combat)
Wounds: 3 (How much damage can be withstood before having to be removed as a casualty)
Initiative: 5 (Reaction speed in close combat and reflexes)
Leadership: 10 (ability to lead, to remain motivated, and to motivate others.)
Armor Save: 3+ (Attacks are either below strength 8 or have an armor piercing rating of 4 or higher are blocked on a roll of 3 or better on a six-sided die.)
Invulnerable Save: 4+ (Any attack can be blocked on a roll of 4 or better on a six sided die.)
Special Wargear: Black Staff of Arhiman (Allows simultaneous casting of 2 different powers); Bolt pistol with Inferno Bolts; Frag and Krak grenades;
Psyker mastery level 4: Can learn four different psychic powers per day, and can select them from the Biomancy, Pyromancy, Telepathy, and Tzeentch disciplines. Two of the four powers, however, must come from the Tzeentch psychic powers table.
Master of Deception: Up to three units under Ahriman’s command can be deployed behind enemy lines before the start of a battle, or can be sent around in a flanking maneuver after battle begins.
Master of the Rubric: Can command Rubric Marines with ease.
Fearless: Exactly what it says on the tin. In game terms, it’s slightly more complicated than that, but it can essentially be summed up as “Ahriman cannot be scared or intimidated.”
Champion of Chaos: If Ahriman kills a worthy foe in single combat, there is a chance that he will receive a random boon from the chaos gods. However, there are requirements for what constitutes a worthy foe, and the random boon isn’t always helpful.