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.
The bright and brash gunman who killed the Blackwater Trick Shooter spotted across the Five States
By Frederick Vannesse
Reports arriving from nearly every corner of the Five States suggest that the strange, brightly dressed gunman wanted in West Elizabeth has become something of a traveling terror to men who make their reputations with a revolver. His appearance leaves little room for mistaken identity: colorful waistcoat, polished boots, immaculate clothing, and that ridiculous yet unmistakable half-mustache, curled proudly upon one side of his lip while the other remains clean-shaven. Witnesses place him in settlements from New Austin clear through New Hanover, appearing without warning, seeking out men locally celebrated for their speed and accuracy, and challenging them openly to legal contests of the draw. Many of those challenged were considered formidable pistoleers. None prevailed. One witness, claiming to have watched several duels in his lifetime, described the stranger’s manner with particular unease: “Seen a lot duels, most times they look like they are aiming before the draw, a glint in their eyes you know? But this guy just kind looked like he didn’t care, like the conclusion was already known to him before he drew.” Others tell much the same story. The gunman waits calmly, draws with what one man called a “careless quickness,” fires first, and departs with no celebration beyond whatever small courtesy he affords the fallen.
Authorities reviewing these latest shootings have so far found no murder among them, with witnesses agreeing that his opponents knowingly accepted his challenges before reaching for their weapons. That distinction has apparently kept local lawmen from interfering, though it does nothing to erase the warrant awaiting him in West Elizabeth, where police still seek him for the killing of the Blackwater Trick Shooter, the very man from whom the stranger is believed to have taken the revolver he now carries. His habits have made pursuit difficult. He enters a town, remains only long enough to find whatever celebrated gun hand has caught his interest, and vanishes again almost as quickly as he came. No boardinghouse proprietor admits keeping him, no stableman seems able to say where his horse rests, and nobody has yet explained how a man crossing dusty roads, muddy streets, mountain trails and desert country manages to keep those absurdly brilliant clothes and polished boots so remarkably pristine. Where he sleeps remains unknown. Where he will appear next is anybody’s guess. But wherever accomplished gunfighters gather and men begin boasting about who among them is quickest, it may be prudent to watch the road for a colorful waistcoat and half a mustache.
Violent storm pounds New Austin beneath blackened skies
By Wylie Frey
A terrible spell of weather rolled across New Austin beneath a cloud so dark and broad that witnesses said daylight itself seemed to quit the country, bringing with it torrents of rain and lightning of such uncommon frequency that folks from ranches, roads, and settlements compared the thunder to explosions going off one atop another. Men caught outside abandoned wagons and horses for whatever shelter they could find, while livestock scattered before flashes that struck the earth close enough to throw dirt and leave the smell of burning upon the air. The worst affected, according to several accounts, were old soldiers who knew that terrible sound from somewhere other than a thunderstorm. Some veterans were seen ducking for cover or instinctively reaching for weapons, and a few appeared to fall back upon habits learned years ago. “There was an old war veteran working as a ranch hand near us, and when that thunder started cracking, he took up a defensive position and just stared into the hills like he was waiting for somebody to come over them,” one witness told the Herald. “For a while there, I don’t reckon he saw the storm at all.”
The rain eventually weakened and the black cloud passed onward, leaving flooded tracks, frightened animals, scorched trees and shaken residents behind it, but at least one man did not live to see the clearing sky: a cowpoke was discovered after the storm lying dead in the open country, a deep black burn running down the length of his body and his clothing badly singed, in what those who found him believe was a direct lightning strike. New Austin is accustomed to killing heat, drought, dust and sudden hardship, but those who endured this storm say they have seldom heard the heavens make war upon the desert quite like this.
Bounty hunters settle mountain quarrel by the reins
By Jane Duran
Two bounty hunters who had been strangers, joined together to hunt through the snowbound mountains of Ambarino, and by every account reaching this paper, the arrangement proved profitable if not peaceful. Several witnesses in Valentine and Annesburg reported seeing the pair return from the high country with wanted men slung over saddles or dragged unwilling into the custody of the law. Their chief disagreement concerned whether those bounties ought to arrive breathing. “We get more if they are still kickin’,” one hunter was heard insisting, adding, “and there are gold nuggets as bonuses if we do it right!” The partner reportedly shrugged at such careful arithmetic. “Don’t care about that, I’ll just capture more bounties,” came the answer. “The fun is in the chase, not the pay.” That difference followed them through the mountains like a hungry wolf, with arguments reportedly breaking out after nearly every capture.
Matters finally went beyond words when the two came to blows beside a trail, coming into New Hanover. A fisherman said they chose to settle their feud with a horse race. Witnesses say the hunters mounted up and tore they way alongside the Dakota River. One eventually crossed their agreed finish ahead of the other and immediately began boasting of the victory. Any expectation of a gracious conclusion was swiftly disappointed: the winner rode away while raising one finger in an unmistakably insulting gesture toward the defeated hunter.
False mourners caught plotting Blackwater bank robbery
By Daisy Fairman
A band of fraudsters who thought Blackwater’s grief might make its citizens easy marks instead discovered this week that mourning does not make a town foolish. The small posse rode into town claiming to have been dear companions of the late local celebrity remembered simply as the Blackwater Trick Shooter, telling residents they had come to honor both their departed friend and the town which had given his remarkable shooting such renown. Their absence from the earlier memorial services, they explained, owed entirely to unfortunate delays upon the road. At first the strangers received the sympathy one might expect, but their story began unraveling when townsfolk noticed the supposed friends could not seem to remember their dead companion’s name. To one listener the Trick Shooter had been “Tom,” to another “Jerry,” while “Richard” and “Harry” were heard on separate occasions. One suspicious resident remarked that a man may collect plenty of nicknames in his lifetime, but four Christian names among his closest friends seemed excessive. A handful of citizens consequently began watching the newcomers and soon discovered that their sentimental pilgrimage had considerably more to do with the Blackwater bank than with any deceased marksman.
The information was quietly carried to the Blackwater police, whose officers elected not to frighten the impostors away but instead allowed their scheme to proceed under careful observation. Thus, when the false mourners finally sprung their trap upon the bank, they discovered another had already been sprung around them. Officers closed in before the robbers could make good their escape, and the entire posse was arrested and carried off into custody, their weapons, preparations, and considerable lack of good sense reportedly becoming evidence against them.
Rooftop dancer draws a Valentine crowd
By Donna Deshner
Valentine residents found reason to look upward when a man was discovered dancing upon a narrow portion of rooftop, attracting a growing crowd of townsfolk who stopped their business to watch the peculiar exhibition. Witnesses agreed that the dancing itself was nothing extraordinary, but performing it several feet above the street upon such uncertain footing made the spectacle considerably more impressive. “I seen folks dance like that plenty of times,” one observer told the Herald, “but never on such a small piece of roof. Too daring for my blood, but it sure was fun to watch!” The dancer appeared either unconcerned by the gathering below or entirely pleased with it, continuing his steps while spectators wondered aloud how long it would be before gravity put an end to the performance.
Being Valentine, however, the entertainment could not pass without gunfire. A quarrel beneath the rooftop reportedly became a pistol fight, sending most of the assembled spectators scrambling for cover while the dancer remained above the commotion. One witness who stayed close enough to observe the conclusion said the surviving gunfighter looked up afterward, spotted the man still dancing, and deliberately raised both pistols toward him as the dancer continued to dance. For several tense moments it appeared Valentine’s strangest performance would have a bloody ending, but the gunman apparently thought better of it, holstered the weapons and walked away. The rooftop dancer survived both his precarious footing and the violence below, though nobody questioned by this paper could explain who he was, why he climbed onto the roof, or what possessed him to dance there in the first place.
Police raid Saint Denis shop, release clerk after private questioning
By Aloysius Levron
Several customers and the proprietor of a Saint Denis shop received a considerable shock when city policemen suddenly entered the establishment in force, ordered those within to remain where they stood, and placed every person inside under arrest while officers searched the premises. Police were said to possess a warrant alleging that the respectable-looking business had served as a front for an illegal fencing operation, with the clerk accused of knowingly purchasing stolen property and quietly selling it onward for profit. Customers were escorted outside one at a time and questioned, though all were subsequently released after officers apparently satisfied themselves that the patrons had no knowledge of the alleged criminal trade. The clerk was afforded no such quick departure. Witnesses across the street reported seeing policemen remain inside with the accused man for several hours, during which the doors stayed closed and curious citizens were repeatedly encouraged to move along. Yet the conclusion of the affair has raised more questions than the raid itself: despite the warrant and serious accusations, the officers eventually emerged without their prisoner, leaving the clerk free inside his shop.
One nearby witness claims to have overheard an officer pause before departing and tell the man, “remember what we agreed to,” though precisely what agreement was meant remains unknown. Whether the clerk provided information concerning other criminals, entered into some arrangement with the authorities, or whether the accusation against him simply failed under examination cannot presently be established. The Saint Denis Police have refused to comment upon the raid, the lengthy private questioning, or the reason the suspected fence was released.
Sexual Inverts Among Us!
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax – Lead Correspondent
If one has walked the streets of Blackwater or Saint-Denis, you inevitably see them. Older women, who look like perhaps sisters or cousins. They live together, but neither has a wedding ring, nor do they wear all black for a lost love. When I was young, I knew a few women like this. We used to say they had a Boston Marriage, even though the meaning was lost to me. I heard other words: a follower of Sappho, a triblade, and most recently, a sexual invert.
Whatever word you use, the meaning is all the same: a lady who has no interest in a lad, only another lass. How long have people like this been around, I cannot say. The sons of Abraham had daughters, and some of them may have been like this. It’s only in recent years that better terms have come around, although obviously the sexologists have much work to do. I do not fear them, I do not hate them, I just don’t understand them. But lack of understanding is not grounds to hate or fear, at least from where I am standing. Perhaps, in time, as we continue to learn more, our thoughts will become kinder, less judgemental. But that is more aspirational; I doubt it will be in my time, or perhaps the reader’s time. But life always goes on, and such individuals have stood the test of time for centuries, if not millennia. If anyone can survive this long on our planet, then they shall surely live to see that day.
