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 Setting Sun Births New Beginnings
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax – Lead Correspondent
As I sit beside my typewriter, a trusty friend I have had for oh so many years, the sun is going down over the great Lannahassee, its bright sparks turn the water an almost burning orange, as if the mighty waters were swallowing it all. The winter is dying down, the festivities complete, life goes on. Some had a great time; others, a somber occasion. Neither experience extinguishes the other. As the cold air turns warm, I reflect on what has happened, what has changed, mostly in what hasn’t changed.
The new year is a time of new beginnings, things we promise ourselves and so often rarely do. But even in failing, we still are trying, trying to better ourselves and the people we know in a world of chaos and frequent misery. Even if I was told all this writing, all this research, was for not, I would continue it anyway. Life is often too short, or sometimes too long, to ponder how much we really changed things. We are but a speck on a small rock in an infinite universe; it’s foolish to believe a single person can change everything. But as I said, we continue, and some see that as sad, I see it as beautiful. Maybe none of this will matter in a century, but so what? We did what we could, and we did our best; it’s often all we could ask for.
My best wishes carry you forward.
Sharp eyes in cold sands bring outlaw to justice
By Jose Chavez
Not far from Tumbleweed, a wanted man was quietly brought to heel this week after a methodical pursuit that owed more to patience than gunplay. The outlaw had taken care to hide their passage across the frozen ground, leaving no trail discernible to the ordinary eye. Yet the bounty hunter in question, seasoned by years in hostile terrain, with eyes as sharp as an eagle’s discerned a trail, a scuffed edge here, a disturbed crust there, signs subtle enough to escape most, but not one who knew where and how to look.
Following these marks with deliberate calm, the hunter closed the distance and made use of surprise rather than force, capturing the outlaw without a shot fired or a blow struck. The prisoner was delivered to Tumbleweed intact and unresisting, where authorities under Sam Freeman processed the capture without delay. In a land where violence is often expected, the clean conclusion stood as a reminder that skill and restraint can still prevail, even amid snow, silence, and the long reach of the law.
Fireworks on Mount Hagen spark awe and avalanche
By Jane Duran
An astonishing and ill-advised display marked the turning of the year atop Mount Hagen, where unidentified persons hauled a wagon laden with fireworks to the summit and ignited them as midnight passed. The spectacle, brief though it was, lit the high skies in brilliant color and was reportedly visible for miles across the frozen reaches below. Witnesses in distant camps described the flashes as sudden and unreal, like a celebration meant for the heavens alone, ending almost as quickly as it began.
The conclusion came with a deep rumble rather than applause, as the explosions unsettled the snowpack and sent a roaring avalanche down the mountain’s face. Fears of loss were immediate, but searchers later reported no sign that any traveler had been caught in the slide, and the slopes were believed clear at the time. Those responsible for the display were said to have avoided the falling snow by position or fortune, yet they did not linger to be identified, leaving behind only scorched ground, shaken nerves, and a reminder that even celebration can turn dangerous when carried too high above reason.
Smoke chokes the street outside Blackwater’s general store
By Nick McCrary
An unusual and irritating scene unfolded outside the general store in Blackwater when several individuals gathered for reasons unknown and proceeded to smoke cigarettes and cigars at a furious pace. The air grew so thick that patrons entering or exiting the store were forced to push through a rolling cloud of smoke, drawing complaints from passersby and shopkeepers alike. Some described the atmosphere as less a street corner and more a smoke filled saloon, prompting murmurs that the gathering had crossed from indulgence into public nuisance.
Matters escalated when a well-dressed gentleman, declaring smoking an inelegant and offensive habit, loudly confronted the group and issued threats that drew raised fists in response. A fight appeared imminent before officers under Chief Oswald Dunbar moved in swiftly to separate the parties and disperse the crowd. No arrests were reported, though tempers ran hot and dignity ran thin, leaving behind little more than lingering smoke and a reminder that even small habits can ignite large disturbances when exercised without restraint.
A thousand names crossed off and counting
By Adam Parvey
Word spread quickly this week that a well known bounty hunter had delivered their one thousandth capture, a tally few in the profession dare to dream of, let alone survive long enough to achieve. From dusty jail steps to quiet saloon corners, fellow bounty hunters raised glasses and nodded with a respect earned only through years of danger, gun smoke, and long nights on unforgiving roads. Residents from every corner of the Five States offered congratulations in their own fashion, some with handshakes, others with cautious distance, all recognizing that such a number speaks not to luck, but relentless pursuit and a willingness to walk willingly into trouble again and again.
The celebration was not confined to any one territory, carrying instead along telegraph lines, campfire talk, and rumor until it touched New Hanover, Lemoyne, West Elizabeth, Ambarino, and New Austin alike. Yet it was quietly noted that for every cheer raised, there existed at least a thousand voices who found no cause for celebration at all: men and women whose names now sit inked in ledgers, cells, or graves because of that very record. Such is the nature of bounty work: triumph for some, ruin for others, and a legacy measured not in applause alone, but in the long shadow cast by a life spent hunting lives.
Long line outside the Valentine stable tests the limits of New Years’ patience
By Emery Cosberry
An uncommon sight greeted early risers in Valentine this week, as a long and patient line formed outside the town stables, not for trade or travel, but for style. Riders waited their turn to have their horses altered with dyed and carefully trimmed manes, fitted masks, and even lanterns for night riding. Stable hands confirmed a marked rise in the purchase of premium feed as well, suggesting the concern went beyond appearance alone and into a broader effort at care and presentation seldom seen in such numbers.
The staff worked briskly to keep the line moving, though several disturbances were reported as tempers occasionally flared under the strain of waiting and opinion. Still, no blows were exchanged, and order held, a quiet achievement in a town better known for settling matters with fists or firearms. Some locals remarked that the calm itself felt deliberate, as if Valentine’s riders were, for once, choosing polish over provocation, and testing whether even a place with such a reputation might yet turn over a new leaf, if only for an afternoon.
Naturalist braves death for blood of the Sun Gator
By Emeline Vickroy
The still waters of the Lemoyne bayou were broken this week by a near fatal encounter when a roaming naturalist, known to authorities for his field research rather than his sense of self-preservation, attempted to secure a blood sample from the elusive Sun Gator. Witness accounts say the beast was first successfully sedated along a shallow bank, but its immense bulk carried it forward into deeper, blackened water before the man could act. Believing the animal lost and himself fortunate to be breathing, the naturalist was preparing to withdraw when the gator stirred, panic lending strength to muscle as it surged awake and fled into the reeds.
Rather than retreat, the naturalist pursued the wounded giant through waist-deep water, managing a second sedative shot after a harrowing chase that could easily have ended with his disappearance beneath the surface. This time the Sun Gator succumbed long enough for the sample to be drawn, after which the creature was left alive and free, vanishing once more into the bayou’s depths. T
Winter’s charm gives way to grumbling across the territories
By Lucien Privitt
What began as a novelty has hardened into an aggravation felt from the high trails to the low roads, as cowpokes across the Five States voice growing resentment toward the lingering winter snows. Many recall the first falls with fondness: a bright dusting upon familiar ground, a change enough to stir the spirit, yet weeks on, the cold has worn its welcome thin. Riders speak of stiff fingers, numbed toes, and mornings that begin not with purpose but with the chore of layering wool upon wool before a single mile can be made.
Beyond personal discomfort, the snow has pressed heavily upon commerce and craft alike. Trails once taken at a canter are now hazards of hidden ice and uncertain footing, slowing deliveries and discouraging travel altogether. Merchants report dwindling trade as wagons refuse the risk, while stylists and outfitters lament that creativity has been smothered beneath the same heavy coats worn day after day, leaving little room for expression in a land already short on indulgence. What little color remains is dulled by necessity, practicality reigning where flair once found breathing room.
Yet for all the grumbling, not every voice calls for an early thaw. Some acknowledge the snow as a rare interruption in a world otherwise fixed in its ways, a fleeting reminder that change, however inconvenient, is still possible. These holdouts speak softly but with conviction, urging patience before the white blanket retreats and the land resumes its familiar stillness.
The Five States Herald 