New Austin

New Austin Pronghorns end season strong
By Rutherford X. Downing
The New Austin Pronghorns are proud of finishing 5-1 this season. Their only loss came from The University of the South, Sewanee. The history of this Episcopal school is tied deeply to the old South, but they are trying to create a new image in this new world. Sewanee managed to squeak out a 4-0 record, playing two less games than the Pronghorns.

High noon duel disappoints
By Alois Burditt
A disagreement in Tumbleweed led to a duel between two men. Witnesses stated both men had been in the saloon playing cards when the contest became tense. A man called Little Dave became increasingly heated and challenged the other, James Butler, to a duel. More commonly known as “Feral Jim,” Butler accepted.

The two men walked out of the saloon and immediately folks took cover. They then paced and separated themselves as is gentlemanly while the deputies watched. Sheriff Freeman allegedly said, “As long as nobody but the idiots dueling get hurt, it’s fine. But if an innocent person gets hurt, you have to deal with me. And dying ain’t gonna keep my wrath from you.” Both men stood sidewise toward each other as to present the smallest target possible to their opponent. Little Dave was described as being a bit jumpy and was the first to pull his pistol. So fast was his draw and so confident was his aim, Dave pulled the trigger and twirled his gun back into his holster all before realizing he had missed.

Mr. Butler pulled his pistol out a moment after Little Dave and placed the pistol on his left arm to hold it steady as the Dave’s first shot whizzed by. Little Dave quickly drew his pistol again and pulled the trigger multiple times, but missed with each bullet. Mr. Butler calmly pulled the trigger and his bullet found its mark and Little Dave fell to the floor clutching his midsection where the bullet hit him.

Friends of Little Dave’s have called for a trial, to which Sheriff Freeman replied, “A trial? Didn’t we just have one? Dave lost.”

West Elizabeth

Murder in Blackwater
By Ela Q. Asken
Death and hardship often seem like the status quo in the Five States. You can’t ride into a busy town without preparing for a fight. However, a murder in Blackwater has residents feeling less secure than normal.

“Most times ya know it’s about to happen, ya know?” said a local Blackwater resident. They seem to be describing the palpable tension of the inevitable gunfight. A tension that nobody noticed this time. Irvin Hayne was found dead outside his home on the outskirts of Blackwater. He was found in the morning lying by his campfire with a single bullet hole in his head.

A gunshot was indeed heard in the dead of night, though gunshots are not enough to warrant suspicion in the Great Plains, and so it was not investigated immediately. What has residents alarmed is that the killing took place at the man’s own home. “You should be safe in your home, right? Most folks get shot had it coming but Irvin was an alright guy,” says a resident who asked to remain anonymous. Blackwater police have no leads at this time, though their current theory is that this was the result of a personal dispute.

Strawberry Mayor under criticism
By Nick McCrary
Last week the small town of Strawberry was shaken by a bloody failed attempt to free a man recently arrested for being drunk. Many residents have taken to criticizing Mayor Nicholas Timmins’ strict dry town policy. While many travelers bring their own alcohol with them, Mayor Timmins has been adamant about public drinking. Realizing he lacks the necessary cooperation with sheriff to fully enforce his prohibition aspirations, he settles for folks keeping their drinking behind closed doors. However, when one does make a drunken spectacle of themselves, Mayor Timmins comes down hard.

It is that strict punishment that is being criticized. The arrested drunkard was to remain in jail for a full week, far longer than necessary for him to sober up. And many have pointed out that nobody was harmed until the breakout attempt. Some have called for Mayor Timmins to resign while others have cautioned against hasty attempts to remove the recently elected mayor. While many residents have left Strawberry since Timmins election, more still have come to call Strawberry home. Long time residents may not agree with the prohibition of alcohol, but it seems there are many more people eager to take part in Timmins’ utopia.

Ambarino

Gunfight in Ambarino!
By Caylen V. Hornby
Ambarino is hardly what one would call a hospitable or safe place. Yet, it is not the place you expect a full blown gunfight. More than a dozen men (and one woman!) made the long ride into Grizzlies East to confront the legendary gunman Flaco Hernandez. The posse tracked Hernandez to Cairn Lake where they rode in to make their assault. They spread out to surround the camp and quickly sent the desperadoes there into defensive positions. What happened next, I can only tell you by the mercy of Flaco Hernandez himself. Having tagged along for the story, I stayed a ways behind when the assault began. I heard the galloping horses coming from behind the mountain and I turned to see Hernandez riding with six with men. He must have known I was not a threat because he glared at me and rode right past me. Hernandez and his men took the bounty hunters by surprise and in a few short moments, the assault was over.

Deciding not to run my good luck out, I fled and rode off as fast as I could.

Man saves dog from an icy lake
By Jane Duran
A stray dog was trying to catch a fish on Lake Isabella. The dog slipped and fell into the icy water. A local hunter heard the splash and saw the dog begin to scramble in the water. The hunter ran to the dog’s aid and by the time they arrived the dog had slowed down considerably. The dog was close enough to the edge of the ice that the hunter was able reach him and pull him out.

The dog immediately thanked the hunter with kisses to their face. “Looks like I’ve got a new hunting partner,” they told me while scratching the happy, and now dry, dog’s head.

New Hanover

Stolen goods out of Sheriff’s reach
By Ela Q. Asken
A man named Clinton Arnsdale claims to have been robbed. He spent days in the Valentine Sheriff’s office demanding aid. The sheriff, having been recently killed, was not available and so eventually Mr. Arnsdale returned to his home. The new sheriff arrived days after Mr. Arnsdale left and was said to have rode out to see if there was any way to placate the man who threatened, “I pay your damn wages

According to Mr. Arnsdale, a man named Bob Crawfish is responsible for the theft. When deputies demanded evidence of Mr. Arnsdale said, “Evidence for what? I already know who took my stuff!” Hopefully the sheriff can get it sorted out. Among the stolen items was a collection of staffordshire china and pictures of (allegedly) actual fairies.

Lemoyne

Old King Kamassas – Working the East River
By Doc Deschain (Freelancer)
There’s a man down in Bayou Nwa who tells of a river that speaks, one that calls out to the adventurer when an itchy thirst burns in their boot heels. Fair footed travellers pooh-pooh this tale as just bayou folklore, tales of feverish minds and superstition. But it was this claim that brought this reporter to the reasty mire of eastern Lemoyne to investigate, as it is the frequent policy of this paper that reporters put bullet to bone before pen to paper. There’s a hard caste of men and women who work the Kamassas for their daily bread, finding in it’s reaches the impetus to drive success on the frontier. This reporter had a time to speak with some of this caste and, even, to take the trip himself. What we found, was a river of riches, the “King Kamassas” as the men and women who work it call her.

Leaving the bright lights of Saint Denis an explorer or would be hunter could take the long route and set out toward Van Horn for Roanoke Ridge via Annesburg or head straight north and cut through the forests of Roanoke Ridge. Setting out in the evening would put one in the position to hunt the elusive cougar up in the cuttings above Annesburg, but be alert, these cats have dragged many a would be adventurer into the dark depths of the Ridge.

High in the northern most point of New Hanover King Kamassas is the most dramatic. Against a backdrop of Grizzlies East  the old man is most vital and falls elegantly down the Brandywine Drop. It is here as well that we can take a grab at one of the King’s jewels- the elusive and valuable Western Moose. Following the course of the river southwards the Kamassas only but delivers, so long as you skip Elysian Pool and the hovels of Butchers Creek, a tale for another time. An experienced fisherman has a pretty penny to make catching Sockeye Salmon and Steelhead Trout, such is the demand in the upper crust restaurants and cafes of Saint Denis.

The Kamassas doesn’t keep his secrets to its aqueous climes, however. One would be amiss to skip the banks of the Kamassas which hold their own bounty. Herbs and fungi of high value and variety can be found not far into the nearby woods: American Ginseng, Oleander Sage and Chanterelle can all be uncovered without trending too far from a good fishing hole. Naturally, game such as Whitetail Deer are abundant and keep eyes open for beaver! Though stray not too far. The notorious Lemoyne Raiders have been known to kidnap or lynch the unwary traveller far from the reach of civilization. In short, those who work the Kamassas know to carry an iron or two and gear up for a gunfight, whilst bounty hunters burn a straight path of pursuit.

The Kamassas throbs out into the swamp as he reaches Lemoyne, dank and gouty, the land is a hard living. Thick mist and green waters disguise the dangers of this fetid swamp, many turn straight for the city limits in bypass. But the savvy will dive straight in. The swamps teem with garfish and catfish, which are both valuable catches along with readily biting largemouth and smallmouth bass. “Watch the skies,” the swamp men drawl, or “if it flies it dies”. The Saint Denis fashion market is thirsty for heron and egret plume and the meat merchants of that city pay well. The experienced riverman knows to keep his eyes open and a varmint rifle nearby. Whilst tramping in the mud, a hunter would be negligent to not collect a gator skin or two.

The hot boggy weather of the bayou is where this journey ends for many a hard-working man and woman, and it is here too that most head for the lights to unload a lucrative haul and retire to the saloon for a beer or (may I say overpriced) whiskey. This reporter is found here too, among the Saint Denis society hot off the trail of the King, a sodden sweatband and mud on my boots but money in my pocket. Perhaps Old Man Bayou is right? But perhaps he’s also wrong. There is no river that speaks in the territory, not in all five states, that is fantasy. But there is a river that beckons. And it’s this beckoning, dear reader, that this reporter shall lay down his pen and go and answer once more, and maybe, perhaps, again after that.

Governor James Murphy supports overtly discriminatory state constitution
By Aloysius Levron
The Civil War it seems was not the end of the struggle for former slaves and their descendants. While the Civil War brought freedom for many on paper, it was immediately enforced at the point of a gun (that gun being the United States – Union – Military). In 1877, the result of a back door deal made to secure the presidency for the Republicans, reconstruction efforts were ended and the troops recalled to the North.

It did not take long for the displaced Southerners to reclaim power and establish laws harmful to freed men and women. This week, this startling trend goes further as Governor Murphy’s support has led to the adoption of a new Lemoyne State constitution that disenfranchises black residents. A response to the unprecedented levels of black representation during the Reconstruction Era. Lemoyne is not the first state to do so and one wonders if the rights of black citizens are not secured, is there any meaning to the so called Civil War Amendments (or the Constitution as a whole) at all?

President MacAlister did not directly comment on the policy. The official response from his office was, “Matters of state laws are best addressed by state government.” This retreat into federalism is being criticized as cowardice by opponents while being praised by southern supporters for his adherence to state’s rights and popular sovereignty.

Across the Nation

Supreme Court: Born in the United States of America? You’re a citizen
By Adam Parvey
The 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution has been put to the test. Mr. Wong Kim Ark had been denied reentry into the U.S. after traveling outside of the country. Having been born in 1873 in California, he believed this was in error as he was a citizen per the 14th Amendment. The Supreme Court has ruled in agreement with Mr. Wong Kim Ark. This makes clear the meaning of the 14th Amendment and establishes the precedent going forward that being born in America makes one a citizen of America, with a few rare exceptions.

Boston bar celebrates third year anniversary with free libations
By Adam Parvey
As unlikely as it seems Boston bar, Salut, gave away hundreds of gallons of free booze away to celebrate its third year in operation. Giving away that much alcohol hardly seems like a good way to secure a fourth year, but it the owner has earned enough loyalty that he knows they’ll buy plenty of drinks throughout the year. As one patron said, Salut has become a place where, “everyone knows your name,” and “they’re always glad you came.” Having sat down for a few drinks, I can attest it is indeed a place to break away from your worries.

The World Abroad

‘Lady sharpshooters’ to go to war?
By Ivy Seager
Famed American shootest Ann Mosey has been taken with the spirit of patriotism as tension between the United States and Spain continues to grow. Ann Mosey is, “offering the government the services of a company of 50 ‘lady sharpshooters’ who would provide their own arms and ammunition should the U.S. go to war with Spain.” It is a shock to many to even think of a woman taking on a combat role in war, but Ann Mosey is confident that her ‘lady sharpshooters’ will outperform any other company.

Ann rose to fame with her sharpshooter skills. At the age of 15, Ann beat renowned shooter Frank Whelon in a shooting contest, which led to both an impressive career as a shootist and Mr. Whelon courting Ann. The two eventually married but Ann was anything but tamed, as she continues to practice and apparently, prepare for war.

Folklore of the Five States

On occasion, this section will be included to share stories in the Five States that cannot be properly verified, but that many readers may be interested in all the same. This week, we include the story of Mag the Mick, as told on a single loose sheet of paper found near Bard’s Crossing.

A Girl of Green
By Theodore Levin (Unkown author, possible pseudonym)
Evangeline McGrath is no stranger to death and especially acquainted with loss. Her earliest memory now, the familiar goodnight kiss from her father followed by the unfamiliar ‘see you soon wee’un’. The man in question Billy (William McGrath) left their small West Belfast home that night and headed South. See Billy was a member of the Brotherhood and like so many others he was sick of the tyranny of British Rule and dreamt of a free Ireland. Whispers in pubs turned to plans but those plans were ill thought out and soon confined to the annals of history as the failed Fenian rising of 1867 to which Billy lost his life, shot dead by the Irish Constabulary.

Raised by her Mother Erin, Evangeline grew and while her Mammy did her best to provide for her, job prospects as a catholic woman in Belfast at the time were dubious at best, nevermind for the widow of a rebel. They scraped enough to get by but this was not the life Erin wanted for her daughter, little luxury and all too regular taunts of ‘wheres your Daddy’ from those aligned with The Crown. One morning the Constabulary patrol, in a mood as cheery as ever were raining insults down on whoever they came across. Erin spotted them as she walked home from the market with her Evie who was just shy of 12, approaching ten years to the day of her father’s death. They crossed the road but so did the patrol, making a point to mention that sombre date and how time must fly without a Fenian Rebel Bastard in the house to provide. Now the normally level headed Erin, angry with the emotion of the upcoming day snapped and out of sheer frustration threw a fresh apple, hitting one Constable firmly on the nose. Jeers and laughter followed from every window, yard and doorway at the expense of the patrol until it was silenced abruptly, gasps of shock now replaced laughter as the embittered lawman drew his pistol and shot twice, hitting Erin once in the throat and once in the heart.

No time to cry, to grieve or to even grab a change of clothes Evangeline ran and she didn’t stop until she reached the docks, she had always heard stories about folks making their way to America so she stowed herself in the cargo hold of the next boat she could find, heading to a place called Boston. There was nothing here for her now, she cried the whole journey and it was a long journey at that.

Stepping off the boat, it soon became clear that life in America was not all it was cracked up to be with none of the grandeur she had stories about, there were a lot of Irish in the south side of the city sure but this was not Ireland this place was different and Evangeline knew she had to grow up fast, she killed her first man with a revolver she looted. The thief tried to take the small amount of coin she had earned picking pockets in Charlestown but before his grubby hands could get near it a shot rang out, his greedy hands turned cold forever and she knew she would never be the same.

Eventually she picked enough pockets to buy a train ticket and with nowhere particular in mind she headed West and has been living on her own terms ever since, working in or outside of the Law. She has a knack for spotting a good opportunity and more importantly how to steer clear of a bad one. Willing to give all she encounters the time of day until you give her a reason not to and alhough she works and travels alone, between her trusted revolver and her horse Derry Girl she has all the company she needs.

Never staying in one spot too long she is known from Ambarino to New Austin as Mag the Mick and she fires from her hip quicker than any man she has come across. She’ll offer you a whiskey or a bullet. Sláinte

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