THE STRAW MAN OF TOON TOWN AND INKWELL
What do you know about fear?
In its simplest form, fear is an emotion caused by a reaction. Children become anxious when you turn off the lights. Adults get upset when they learn they might not have enough for food. Billionaires get cagey when they have to pay a livable wage.
Fear is a powerful concept. Good or bad, fear is a concept everyone must go through.
But what happens if someone were to control that fear?
It’s not impossible, beings the likes of Yin Sed and Chalice have done crazier things for pettier reasons.
The question is not whether fear can be controlled.
The question is who would be willing to do it.
Long before the Stars abandoned their people and long after the Celestials vanished, a figure emerged from the forgotten fields beyond civilization. No records speak of his birth. No guild claims him. No one can even agree on whether he is a Toon, a spirit, or something far older.
They simply call him the Straw Man.
Unlike others who sought the Ink Machine for power, wealth, or salvation, the Straw Man desired something far more valuable:
He understood a truth most never learn.
Fear spreads faster than any plague.
The Blot infected bodies.
While cities crumbled beneath disease, the Straw Man wandered from settlement to settlement planting stories. Tales of hidden monsters. Rumors of corrupted Stars. Whispers that neighbors carried the curse. Every frightened glance and sleepless night fed his growing power.
Soon, stories became more than stories.
Using a twisted magic woven from panic and paranoia, the Straw Man learned to shape fear itself into living creatures. Propaganda given form. Hollow things stitched together from lies, suspicion, and dread. Some wore smiling masks. Others carried newspapers, posters, and banners covered in impossible warnings.
They spoke only what people feared most.
The creatures spread from town to town, carrying terror wherever they went. Entire communities turned against one another. Innocents were accused of carrying the Blot. Guilds hoarded resources. Friends became enemies.
The more fear spread, the stronger the Straw Man became.
Some believe he discovered fragments of the same darkness that once served the Blot. Others claim he is merely exploiting a weakness that has always existed within every living soul.
Whatever the truth, one fact remains.
Where fear gathers, his servants appear.
And recently, as the search for the scattered pieces of the Ink Machine begins anew, sightings of the Straw Man have become more frequent.
Fields of blackened corn have appeared overnight.
Propaganda posters have been found nailed to city walls with no known author.
And in the shadows of Inkwell, frightened citizens whisper the same warning:
“The Blot may consume your body.”
“But the Straw Man wants your mind.”
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