Experimental/Hopefully Comedic short story. Tell me how you like, or dislike, it. I was a little hesitant to post so soon, but here goes...

*Note: Sorry if anyone was reading my last Fan Fiction Unwanted Indestructibility. It's just that it wasn't doing so great, and I turned it in the wrong direction. My apologies.

Part One - The Pride of Puddles

A puddle of water soaked the running feet of Ballard Chevalier. Soon later, the puddle could brag about taking the warmth and dryness of six more men's feet (more on that later). All of them were running, chasing Ballard Chevalier. Why none of them bothered to avoid the puddle is a mystery, as the ground around them was dry.

Ballard Chevalier was a very renowned alchemist, and spell maker. At one point in his life he was noble, too. But when you get to the point of owning a shop, and selling potions and little pieces of papyrus with ink on them, one would get very greedy. Ballard stopped bothering with making real potions, but making scrolls was a passion; so at least he was honest about them.

Anyway. One fateful night, in a small store aptly named "Potions & Scrolls Shoppe", in the Imperial City, some Argonians decided to stop by and buy a potion or two. After some long examination, they took three different glass vials. One [guaranteed] to grant eternal life, the other [guaranteed] to turn lead into gold, and the other actually guaranteed to boost how healthy the drinker is. Little to the Argonians knowing, the first two worked and the third did not.

With a nod and a smile, Ballard took their money and watched them leave the store. It was raining then. He muttered "Fools" to himself, with a dastardly smile that would scare a goblin. Not twenty minutes later, they stormed back into the store with a large group of friends; demanding their gold pieces back for all three potions. They drank the health potion, and broke the others because the first didn't work. No one could tell you why they didn't try the others.

Ah, Ballard thought to himself, Wonderful!

With a quick flick of his hands, every glass bottle in the room exploded, and Ballard was gone. But, the genius he was, Ballard didn't anticipate the Argonians to leave the shop the instant he disappeared. When they turned to the open door to look for him, there he stood, outside the door, facing six lizard-people looking like they wanted to enjoy him for a late night dinner.

Anyway. That puddle watched the seven men run away, proud of itself for taking their feet's warmth away. Little did it know it would soon turn into rain, then be separated from itself; starting a new life as snow in the mountains. There, it would be doom to an eternal view of the Capital. And trust me, it would get old after the first few years. It watched it's victims run through the streets, and to the giant door that it assumed was the gate to the Nine.

Enough of the puddle. Ballard left the city, running, with six lizards behind him. And, in an instant, he turned around and pointed a finger at the leading man. Ballard's arm burst into flame for a split second, which propelled a small piece of metal. The metal piece appeared in the leading Argonian's chest, knocking him to the ground. The same Argonian that was shot would later create the "Firearm".

As the Argonians stopped to help their fallen comrade. Ballard smiled with a sense of pride, knowing his own custom spell worked. He just felt bad for the poor sap that's missing a small bit of metal in the bottom of his tankard. The projectile has to come from something, after all.

An Argonian exclaimed some hurtful things, which caused Ballard to turn around and look. One Lizard-Man was approaching Ballard, with his hands up in the air like it was supposed to protect him, or something.

"Hey, Mr. Chevalier, what was that?" The Argonian said.

"What?" Ballard replied.

"We were going to take the three gold pieces and leave you alone! And you just cast some spell and hurt our friend? We were chasing you for a good one hundred yards, only! We wouldn't have even left the bridge."

"Oh." Ballard hesitated, then reached into his pocket pulling out five gold pieces, "Hope this pays for damages?"

The Argonian spit on Ballard's feet, "We'll see if anyone ever shops at your place. There are some trustworthy alchemists right across the street from you! Oh! And nice job destroying your inventory. Ass."

Ballard was speechless at first, no one has ever spoken like that... Ever. But then, "That was mind trick! I didn't really destroy them! Ha ha! I fooled you!" His voice cracked, Ballard had never been a good liar.

The shot Argonian got up to his feet, seemingly unharmed, and made a gesture to Ballard. He turned around, holding his wound. The one that confronted Ballard turned around and said: "He'll be fine, thanks for the concern!"

I rather enjoyed the read. A few errors in grammar, but for a comedic rp, I can let it go without a hassle. I'd like to see further installments.

Thank you kindly, Lord Dren!
Sorry I haven't posted another bit, but school's got me swamped. Not to mention trying my best to add some relevant jokes and still keep it in TES lines. New one up tonight, though!
As for right now, anyone else have opinions?

Uncle, and his goat's Brain. No, A goat would be offended.

A man lay dying in his glorious bedroom. The fine red cloths were lined with real gold, as were the man's clothing. His beautiful oak bedroom set was also blessed with the unnecessary golden through out their interior and exterior.

His bed was four times the size he needed, with enough pillows to cover twelve beds. It was all put together in a very wonderful fashion. The man's butler stood next to him, silent. Until he was forced to ask the question:

"Sire, do you any wishes as your last?"

To which the man replied, "I've lived a wonderful life. I've explored all of Tamriel, and I've no regrets. As my last wish, I want a cup of red wine. No special glass, but a tankard!"

The butler nodded, and said, "Yes, sire. As you wish."

On return, the butler had a silver wish with a metal cup, and a bottle of red wine. Slowly, he removed them both, and poured the contents of the bottle into the cup, and handed it to the man with a wonderful smile.

"Thank you so very much." The dying man replied, bringing the cup to his lips.

The butler frowned, seeing the contents of the tankard spill to the man's paralyzed lap. When the cup met his lips, the man tasted nothing but cold steel. He looked to his servant, and cursed.

Seconds later, the man died from a defunct potion his hired trader had bought from the Imperial City. The potion granted health to the drinker.

Anyway, back to Ballard?

After the Spell Maker's Incident (As it has been called by many; the source being the Courier), Ballard pretty much lost all business, and all chance of business in the Imperial City. Countless times he's had to clean his outside walls from discouraging remarks, and it has only been a week. The most common one painted phrase was: "Get out." Just that, nothing more, it was terribly unimaginative.

With a sigh, Mr. Chevalier took a stepladder outside of his shop, and placed it directly under his sign. Walking up the three steps, he faced the sign, which were just inches from his face. The words "YOUR DEAD" were carved over the original logo.

The vandals aren't that great with grammar, Ballard thought to himself, taking the sign from the storefront.

A loud laughter echoed from the alley next to Ballard, and a hefty old man stood just a few feet away. His face was round, and babyish. He had a long beard, however, and a moustache that twisted at the ends. His bald head was oh so envious of his beard, constantly saying: "You'll get yours one day."

"Uncle!" Ballard cried out, running to the man.

Of course, the man wasn't actually his uncle, it was just what everyone called him. His real name remained a mystery. Ballard just figured his parents named him something ridiculous, like Jeff. Where the name came from was too a mystery, seeing as there was no Jeff's that Ballard was aware of.

"Ballard, you little bastard!" Uncle replied, reaching out to give Ballard a hug. "How is the life of a successful trader?"

"Wouldn't know," Ballard smiled, "Ask Thoronir."

"Oh? Well maybe I should pay him a visit?" Uncle replied.

"That's not quite what I-"

"I will be back, don't you worry." Uncle smiled. Ballard moaned.

Uncle walked away, back down the alley and, it was assumable, to Thoronir's shop. Ballard thought to himself: [I]Oh my,[I] then continued to pack his things for move.

***

"Welcome to the Copious Coin Purse, what kind of deal can I make for you today?" Thoronir said happily to the husky looking man.

Uncle laughed, "You can't be Thoronir? You are just a small little man!" He proceeded to mock him for his size.

"My apologies, sir; but my size is hardly related to the business in which I run. Now, could I do anything for you today?"

Uncle jumped to the counter, and swung his hand around; knocking down Thoronir's small collection of on display trinkets. Thoronir jumped back, visibly horrified at the sight of his broken porcelain horsy. He could have sworn he saw the small girl riding on it shed a tear before Uncle stepped on her face.

"Get out of my shop you brute!" Thoronir said.

Uncle smiled, "Oops. Maybe next time you'll think before messing with my friend, Mr. Chevalier."

"Wh- What?" Thoronir said, confused.

Needless to say, Uncle wasn't a very bright man.

***

Uncle burst through the shop doors of Ballard's place. A smile of pride was smacked on his face, while Ballard had a scared looking impression. Not three minutes later, Thoronir and an Imperial Guard also burst through the door; unoriginal, it was in the same fashion of Uncle. Everyone was trying to be cool these days, and open door dramatically.

"That's him!" Thoronir said, "That's the man that destroyed my dolls! And him, Ballard Chevalier, he's the employer!"

The Imperial Guard gave Thoronir a funny look at "dolls", but, nonetheless, he confronted Uncle.

"Do you think it's funny to pick on people smaller than you? Why not try someone your own size?" The guard said, stepping up to Uncle.

Uncle looked around, "Do you have one?"

"You're coming with me! You too, Mr. Chevalier." The guard said.

Ballard mouth opened wide, as he picked up some shears he never managed to sell. He looked at Uncle, and stared at him for a good thirty seconds before slowly bring the shears closer to him. With a squeeze of the handle, Uncle's beard fell to the ground. Ballard thought he heard laughter coming from Uncle's forehead.

I loved the read. Positively humorous. I'm surprised no one else has noticed yet. Ah well, keep up the installments. I do the same for Fortuna!.

Oh, we noticed. I am not quite sure what to make out of it yet though. It feels a bit like short strories strung together. Funny stories though.

This is quite funny indeed, and well done Comedian! Hey it suits you, you know, The Comedian doing a well Comedy story, err get it?

Wow I stink :facepalm:!

Thanks guys, at least people are finding it somewhat funny! I always figured I should work with my name, Josh Revising the new chapter right now, and adding/removing some lame puns and jokes. Will be up in a few hours, hopefully.

When is the new chapter coming?

It is an awesome story. I like how so far the chapters arnt huge half-a-page things that take forever to read.

Sorry it took so long. Both my computers died, and now they're back! Really short chapter, but it's to say I'm still going on with this. Apologies :/

Part Three - Ballard's Involvement.

Uncle let out a war cry as he struck the guard down to the ground. Thoronir was watching him escort Ballard and Uncle, but in the next few seconds Thoronir wouldn't be able to see for a week.

The small orange fellow dropped to the ground, crying like a small baby; holding his face with his hands. At the sight of blood, Uncle let out a hearty laugh. Ballard stood motionless, having absolutely no idea what had just happened. Clearly Uncle was dropped as a child. Hard.

“What did you do!” Ballard cried.

Uncle, once again, laughed, “I'm getting us a free ticket out of prison!”

Ballard let out a girly whine, “Are you kidding? We'll be executed for this.”

“It's still not prison.”

Uncle grabbed Ballard's arm, and forced him to go with him. Ballard felt like he was going to cry. He also felt like a little girl, since Uncle was taking it like a man.

“We have to get out of the city.” A calm Uncle said... Calmly.

“Really? I didn't think so!” Ballard said in a sarcastic tone.

“And you call me the stupid one?”

Like a motto: Uncle wasn't a very bright man.

They did get quite lucky, however. When Uncle struck down the guard, no one was around to witness it. But since Thoronir was still conscious, somehow, Ballard estimated they had roughly ten minutes to leave the city. That is, before they were swarmed by the entire Imperial Army.

Ballard always thought the law system was flawed. They send out every guard on patrol after one man, while everyone else is free to steal whatever they want. And, it's not like the guards will magically know it was them, and what it was they stole. Right?

Anyways. Exiting the city was surprisingly easy. They got to the long bridge at about the nine minute mark, just as some guards were coming after them.

Ballard looked back, and thought, Deja Vu. He grunted.

“Can't you cast some spell on them?” Uncle said, sounding unbelievably intelligent.

And risk unoriginality? “No, no I can't. I don't have any spells with me. And I'm not a wizard!” Ballard replied.

Uncle grunted, and did the worst move he could do with Ballard on his arm. He turned to the right, looking down at the perfectly clear water below, and jumped. A screaming, cowardice Ballard with him.

The guards all looked down into the water, and started to yell commands to each other. That just led to an argument, and they all agreed it “never happened”. That night they enjoyed some ale, talking about the two men that never jumped off the bridge and got away.

***

Ballard was weeping while on shore, complaining to Uncle about how he ruins everything; like you'd expect.

“You ruined everything!” Ballard whined.

“Bah! You were doing terrible as it was. I simply rescued you from the city.” Uncle let out a look of pride.

“Are you daft? Everything was going fine before you!”

“Was it?”

Ballard paused, and quietly said, “No...”

“Exactly.” Uncle let out a toothy smile.

“And what exactly do we do now-”

Ballard was interrupted by a loud weeping man. Looking over, he saw a Redguard wearing fancy armor. It looked like the armor of the Blades, but why would a guard of the Emperor be wandering the woods?

Ive always loved your writing, Comedian. Keep it up!!