//------------------------------//
// Welcome to the Borderlands 
// Story: I Blame You 
// by Whitestrake 
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	“Now, swine, stand and deliver.” Blueblood was trying to psyche Jay out, but he didn't know that I'd gone sifting through the Marehouse's ashes in search of something my friend could use. While not overtly large or ornamental, the sword packed a hidden punch. On the blade's pommel rested a dial, with the purpose of regulating the weapon's power output. A handy note written around it said that if the wielder were to ever fight heretics, set it to Purge.

“Who're you calling a pig?” Jay cranked the dial, and a blue aura surrounded the blade. I have no idea what he did to the powersword after I handed it to him, but it would likely involve fire. I hoped it would, anyway. Thankfully, I would get the chance to find out, because Blueblood has more balls than brains.

Equestrian steel can't beat raw science, as exemplified by the powersword's ability to slice through the metal with no effort. At that moment, the arrogant asshole decided dueling would be a good idea, and tried to run for it. A bullet from my .38 reminded him that if either ran, they would be shot by me, but that was just a warning.

“Princess Celestia, I am still getting over your pet humans.” Gurabba, one of the zebra ambassadors, wasn't quite used to the thought of humans being equal. In his homeland we were considered little more than pariahs, left behind by society to become bandits, marauders, and mercenary warlords.

“Yes, they're quite violent.” Qintar, a female zebra (which I have no idea what the term for is), cowered in fear from my gun, and at the display of violence that played out before her eyes. Jay scored the first point by cutting Blueblood's forehead just under the base of his horn.

“Jay and Taylor are not pets, they happen to be two of the most capable fighters I've met.” Celestia and I both knew that was a lie, my friend and I could barely pass any test of survival if we couldn't bullshit our way through it. True or not. The words sent a glimmer into Guraba's eyes, the sort of glint a man gets when he's about to say something stupid and crazy, but that just might pay off in the end.

“So, they are for hire?” While I did not appreciate my work being equated to a prostitute, the ambassador was correct. When the princess nodded, the striped stallion almost fell over as he went for a bag of coins at his sides. The motion was ignored as Blueblood was cut again, right under his foreleg, so maybe the equivalent to our armpits? “You, how much for your services?”

“Whats the job, and how long will it take?” My stoic response was muted when Jay decided to be serious about scoring the final point. I saw him set the sword to Purge, and a wreath of golden flames enveloped the blade. I pointed the revolver at the unicorn in case he decided to run, but I think he was too stunned at the display of human engineering to even attempt escape. Right as the blade cut a swathe through the vain pony's cheek, Celestia pulled Jay aside, firm in his victory over Prince Blueballs.

“Aw, come on, I was about to use a fatality.” My human friend crossed his arms in frustration, put out by being torn from his Kombat-won honor. Guraba almost had a stroke when he realized he would be hiring the two of us for the price of one, so I wonder how he would react to seeing the others we would probably be bringing along. Speaking of others, I haven't seem Cadence or Shining Armor in a few days, I wonder where they got off to.

“Just listen to the business proposition.” With Celestia having put Jay in his place as her bitch, there was nothing stopping the ambassador from telling us our prospective job. That was assuming the princess gave us a choice in accepting.

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It's white, but less so than before. I could plainly see the white marble that made the floors and vaulted ceiling, though the stone seemed oddly soft. The massive, world-encompassing chapel was complete with a gilded crucifix on the wall nearest in front of me. A golden throne sat beneath the holy symbol, and the statue from before reclined within. The fear of an elderly monstrosity was still present, but it was diminished by the calming nature of the titanic cathedral. The inhuman human's blank face seemed to contort into a smirk as I approached, the porcelain visage being more refined than the before.

I wanted to yell at it, but no words came, only the howling of wind and the sound of gunfire. The smell of death and trenches filled the room as the scenery changed, now a savannah that stretched as far as the eye could see. There were other humans here, as well as zebras, and a skirmish was playing out in front of my very eyes. Bullets from decades-old machine guns sprayed through the air, sending up plumes of dust as the impacted the dry soil. A young zebra, no older than eight, ran from behind a rock to escape, and was cut down without remorse. An anger filled the air as the scene changed, but whether the rage was mine or the statue's, I cannot be sure.

There were mountains everywhere, and humans were camped in a large canyon. Griffons flew overhead and rained burning arrows upon the resting army, intent on driving them away. This may have been a reason for the griffons hating humans, or at least a byproduct of it. The carnage of battle was not what surprised me, but a familiar black shape moving through the swarm of iron-age troops caught my eye. The statue had been here, maybe even led the fighters against the griffons. A razor-sharp arrow came down and slammed into the statue's head, only to deflect like it was a piece of straw. In the blink of an eye, I was back in the chapel, staring at the mysterious nonhuman. A hairline fracture appeared in one of the places where an eye should have been.

After being shown so much, he single, inky-black tear that ran down its face sent a chill down my spine.

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My eyes scanned the sun-baked dust of the savannah again, searching for anything that may try and attack the caravan.

“I will never get how you talked me into coming.” I couldn't understand why Lyra invited Bon-Bon, but I guess everyone needs something to fight for.

“Trust Trixie, Lyra's the only one that wanted you here.” My blue friend was resolute in her belief, but I could tolerate the candy maker for extended periods of time. Whether that held true for Jay and Chrysalis remained to be seen.

“Would you two shut up?” Jay was such a morning person, wasn't he? On my next sweep I noticed a few red stains on one of the sparse trees, punctuated by a few holes in the wood. Only bullets could make something like that, and I was instantly reminded of my nightmare. When I blinked, they were gone, replaced by a snake climbing to get some shade.

I was already regretting taking this job.

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Right, so you guys get to pick what's going on in the Zebrican savannah that requires such force.
Better yet, explain the reasoning behind your idea.
Bonus points to whoever can guess what the nightmares are about.