Hanlon's razor moment

[Lun]

A collection of short stories highlighting some moments of sheer silliness that nobody saw, that will never happen again!

Hanlon's razor is an adage or rule of thumb that states:[1] Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

1. Panic at the Dusklamp

The jet-haired man with ice-blue eyes admired the bone golem he had temporarily taken command of. Three heads, three bodies, all bound into one entity—a marvel of sorcerous engineering. The man proceeded to take a late night casual resupply trip through Dusklamp with the solemn sentry, harvesting ingredients from the infested creatures they vanquished.

Suddenly, a gut-wrenching pain twisted the man's stomach, and he felt an urgent need to flatulate. Panic seized him as the pain intensified. Without thinking, the man bolted for the hills, abandoning the bone golem for a long overnight, with no mind paid to the powerful construct left behind.

As the construct stood menacing and left uncontrolled in Dusklamp overnight, other adventurers were startled by the sight of the bone golem. Panic ensues.

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2. Don't walk into dark caves

"One minute left, or so," muttered the jet-haired man with ice-blue eyes. He urged his midnight black horse forward, the animal's hooves pounding through the dense forest, headed toward the mountainside. Sweat dripped down his face, his hair matted under his leather helmet. A writhing mass of nether tendrils pursued them relentlessly, closing the distance with alarming speed.

Dismounting quickly, the man struck a light on his torch and plunged into a cave's that had been concealed by a tangle of vines. The tunnel system stretched before him, iron torches lining the winding walls, casting eerie shadows as he ran deeper. He turned sharply into a rocky cell, his breath coming in short gasps. The nether tendrils skittered unsettlingly past him into the threshold of the cell, just as his control over the nethrim waned.

Leaping out of the cell, the man slammed the wooden door shut, his heart pounding in his chest. He slipped to the ground, panting with relief. "Better start warning people to stay out of dark caves," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Hey, this seems pretty handy! Maybe I'll keep a few more of these guys handy so I don't have to go so far to find new ones." He remarks aloud to himself.

~Later the next day~

Whistling to himself, the man struck a light on his lantern and strolled into the dark cave nonchalantly. He expected the nethermorphs to have remained contained within the wooden cells. They did not. (They were wandering freely! Ack!)

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For a short period of time, about four or five unhoused nethrim wandered the world in various caves and locales, scaring people - including the person responsible! Thankfully:

<CHANGELOG> (Mobs) Mobs that were previously made into minions of another character but have since regained their autonomy will now despawn after a time.