Mission Statement:
To endeavor to bring to all residents of the Five States the most current and important news from across the entire Five States region. Never yellow, the Five States Herald vows to serve only the people of the Five States, from New Austin to Lemoyne, free of charge now and forever.
Strange vision in the Heartlands stirs talk of angels and omens
By Ivy Seager
A lone cowpoke passing through the Heartlands under cover of night has come forward with a most unusual account, claiming to have witnessed what she described as an “angel,” though not of any churchly illustration known to this paper. The woman reports seeing a figure glowing brightly in the night, its form outlined by a strange crackling light, with curved horns not unlike those of a ram. She stated the air itself seemed to hum and spark, as though charged by distant lightning, yet the sky above bore no storm. Despite the figure’s imposing aspect, the witness insisted she felt no fear, only a peculiar calm as it drew nearer across the grass.
According to her telling, the luminous being approached within a short distance, the crackling intensifying in both sound and brightness, before it bent and leapt skyward with astonishing force, clearing what the cowpoke swore was “a mile easy” in a single bound. She made no attempt to follow, choosing instead to remain rooted where she stood until the light vanished entirely. Local hands have greeted the tale with equal parts skepticism and quiet unease, some naming it fancy brought on by fatigue, while others mutter of signs and portents better left unchased.
Doctor Attempts the Impossible!
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax – Lead Correspondent
The living stay away from Armadillo, for it is mostly the realm of the fallen. We don’t like to admit it, we try to say we can help; for the most part, we cannot. Doctors have tried for a long time to cure residents; they have only stemmed the tide of death, not pushed it back. Yet on and on we try, thinking we shall be the hero.
Doctor Victor Birkins is just the latest. He thinks he has a cure for tuberculosis, grown from experiments on willing patients. He thinks this “cure” can save those who reside in Armadillo and plans to take a carriage to them next week. His medical record is far from spotless, and his assistants will not travel with him; they know it’s almost certain death. But Birkin cannot be talked down; come hook or by crook, he will try.
Some may look upon this man in admiration, for trying despite all that says he shouldn’t. I don’t know if he deserves it; his heart is full of pride and ego, hoping to make history rather than save a mother or a father. I’ve often said, the only difference between a hero, and a fool, is the outcome. I pray this man’s play for legacy is successful, but my heart already knows how this ends.
Hunters in Ambarino tracked by unknown creature
By Jane Duran
A pair of hunters traveling through the Grizzlies have returned with an account that has unsettled even the hardiest trappers of the region. The men claim they were following a line of elk tracks through fresh snow when the prints began to change, stretching wider and deeper as though whatever made them had grown in stride and weight. One hunter reported that the trail came to an abrupt end in an open stretch of white, with no sign of where the creature had gone. No brush disturbed, no drift broken, only the wind moving over untouched ground. It was then, they say, they became aware of being watched.
The men abandoned their pursuit soon after nightfall, when a low sound, neither howl nor human call, carried across the ridge above their camp. One swore he glimpsed a shape between the trees, tall and wrong in its movement, keeping just beyond the firelight. No attack came, nor did the presence draw nearer, yet neither man slept until first light. By morning, any trace of the tracks had vanished beneath new snowfall. Those familiar with the mountains offer no clear explanation, though some advise that not all things in Ambarino are meant to be followed, no matter how clean the trail may first appear.
Tom Lockburn shows himself in Blackwater
By Daisy Fairman
Blackwater’s thoroughfares fell to a hush this week as the well known bounty hunter Tom Lockburn rode in from the plains with a wagon burdened not by goods, but by the remains of several outlaws. Witnesses gathered along the boardwalks and hitching posts, some tipping hats in wary respect, others whispering sharp concerns over the boldness of his arrival, as Lockburn’s name lingers in connection with an ongoing federal inquiry regarding the taking of private bounties, a matter that has divided both lawmen and citizenry alike.
Though the warrants tied to the deceased were said to be lawful, controversy remained. One of the bodies bore a gunshot wound that, according to attending physicians, appeared to have been inflicted well after death. Lockburn, when pressed briefly by local officers, claimed the man had risen against him during transport. He recounted that, upon felling the attacker, he propped the corpse upright in the wagon’s driver seat and sent the team forward, drawing fire from an accomplice concealed at range.
“Lockburn said a woman fired from long range, hitting her dead companion,” one policeman reported to the Herald. “He said the woman thought she was shooting him, but he did not say why the pair attacked him.” Before federal authorities could arrive to question him further, Lockburn had already taken his leave of Blackwater, his wagon emptied and his trail once more turned to dust.
A fish tale turns foolish in the streets of Valentine
By Emery Cosberry
Witnesses in Valentine recount a most peculiar disturbance beginning with a fisherman who rode into town bearing an impressively large catch. By all accounts, the individual took great pride in the prize, parading it through the muddy streets and showing it off to any passerby willing to lend an ear. “They were quite proud of their catch,” one townsfolk remarked, noting the fisherman’s repeated stops and cheerful boasting. The display, however, appears to have stirred either envy or mischief in another cowpoke, who abruptly tackled the fisherman, bound him, and made off with the fish in full view of onlookers.
What followed was described as near an hour of absurd pursuit, with the fish changing hands repeatedly as the two parties chased one another through alleys, storefronts, and even into the saloon. Each man seemed determined to claim ownership, stealing the catch back whenever opportunity allowed. The matter concluded when the thief managed one final escape and sold the fish to the town butcher, who later stated he had no knowledge of any wrongdoing tied to the sale. The fisherman, left without his prize, reportedly continued protesting long after the matter had ceased to amuse the gathered crowd.
Warehouse melee leaves dockworkers strewn and questions unanswered
By Emeline Vickroy
A violent altercation near the warehouse rows of Saint Denis has drawn considerable attention after a lone cowpoke reportedly overcame a group of dockworkers in a prolonged and chaotic fight. Witnesses state the incident began as a simple dispute between the traveler and a laborer employed in the area, though the cause of the disagreement remains unclear. Matters escalated swiftly when several of the workman’s fellows arrived and joined the fray, turning what had been a one-on-one bout into many verse one.
One well-dressed gentleman, observing from the safety of his wagon, recounted that the workers initially engaged the cowpoke one at a time, as if testing his mettle, before attempting to overwhelm him all at once. During the struggle, the lone fighter was struck from behind and at one point forced into a choke, appearing on the verge of collapse. Observers noted that his blows grew erratic in that moment, his swings wide and poorly aimed, suggesting fatigue or disorientation as the press of bodies closed around him.
The tide turned abruptly when, as several witnesses attest, the cowpoke produced a tonic and drank it in haste, casting the empty bottle aside. What followed was described as a sudden restoration of vigor; the man regained his footing and began striking with renewed force and precision. In short order, nearly a dozen men were left sprawled unconscious upon the cobblestones. The cowpoke, offering no word or explanation, retrieved his hat, settled it upon his head, and departed the scene, leaving behind a battered crowd and a growing curiosity among both citizens and authorities.
Silent returns stir old rumors around the man once called the Grey Cowboy
By Adam Parvey
Nathaniel Cross, the bounty hunter once entangled in allegations tying him to the masked vigilante known as the “Grey Cowboy,” has reportedly resurfaced after a notable absence. The case against Cross was formally dismissed some time ago for lack of sufficient evidence, yet his subsequent disappearance did little to quiet speculation. Now, according to several deputies across multiple territories, Cross has resumed his trade in a manner both efficient and elusive, arriving without warning, delivering bound outlaws, and departing before questions can be properly put to him.
Accounts from lawmen describe a pattern: Cross rides in alone, avoids prolonged conversation, and leaves payment to be settled with minimal exchange. None have reported any unlawful conduct tied to these recent appearances, though the brevity of his visits has done little to ease lingering suspicions. While officials maintain there is no standing cause to detain him, the reemergence of a man once linked to vigilantism has revived quiet talk among both deputies and townsfolk, many of whom wonder whether the Grey Cowboy has truly vanished, or merely changed his manner of work.
The Five States Herald 