Q. What’s the difference between an Argonian and a Sload?
A. You can’t make soap out of an Argonian.
Q. What do you call an Argonian assassin?
Q. Why do Argonians make such good thieves?
A. Because if they’re caught by the tail, it detaches.
Q. How are Bosmer like cliff racers?
A. They’re everywhere, make a horrible high pitched sound, and you just want to eradicate them all.
Q. Why was the Bosmer watching a foot race?
A. He was looking for a quick snack.
A young Bosmer to his mother: “Mommy, I hate my sister’s guts.”
Bosmer mother: “Shut up and keep eating.”
A. How do you address and Orc?
Q. With an axe embedded in your skull.
Q. Why don’t Orcs bathe?
A. If they did, their parents wouldn’t recognize them.
Q. How many Wood Elves does it take to light a fire?
A. That depends on how long you want them to burn for.
Q. Why do you use Bosmer?
A. Dunmer aren’t flammable.
Q. What about Altmer?
A. They burn up too quick.
Q. So why not use Dwemer?
A. We already ran out.
Q. How many Imperials does it take to light a fire?
A. At least three: one to requisition the paperwork; one to sign as a witness on the forms; and one to stand guard to make sure no-one’s lighting illegal fires in the meantime.
Q. How many Orcs does it take to light a fire?
A. First you have to introduce them to fire.
Q. Why do Dunmer live on Vvardenfell?
A. They need something to complain about.
A Bosmer walks into a bar. A Dunmer says to him: “This place is amazing. You can jump off the roof and float in the air.”
The Bosmer responds, “That sounds great. Please show me how.” And so the two make their way to the roof.
Upon their arrival, the Dunmer jumps off and floats in the air.
“Let me try,” the Bosmer cries, and jumps off. He falls to the ground and dies.
A patron inside the bar remarks, “Another idiot from Cyrodil bites the dust. Do none of them know about levitation?”
One day, a Dunmer decided to complain to his local slaver:
“I bought an Argonian slave here last week, and he died the very next day.”
“Nonsense,” the slaver replied, “I’ve had that slave in my pens for weeks and he never died once.”
A Hlaalu woman was set to marry a rich noble, but was hesitant about the arrangement:
“Why do you not want to marry him?” her father asked, “He comes from a good family, and is incredibly rich.”
“He is old.” She replied, “I would be more willing if he were older.
A Khajiit, a Dunmer, an Imperial, and a Bosmer were all on a ship.
The Khajiit pulls a vial of skooma out of his jacket, drinks a little, then tosses the rest overboard and says, “We have enough back home.”
The Dunmer takes a bundle of Hackle-lo, tastes a leaf, then tosses the rest overboard saying, “We have enough back home.”
The Imperial looks around, sees the Bosmer, and then tosses him overboard.
During the war of Betony, a Sentinel outpost ran afoul of a mercenary company of Orcs. As the Sentinels lay in wait behind their fortifications, a solitary orc makes its way to the wall and yells, “Come out here, ya yella bellied girlie boys, and I’ll give ya what for.”
The Sentinel commander orders, “I want 20 men to deal with that pathetic Orc.” and sends twenty of his best men over the hill. Ten minutes later, at the crest of the hill, the Orc appears again. “Ya Redguard panty wastes,” he yells. “Come on, the rest of ya!”
The Sentinel commander is somewhat annoyed. He sends 100 men this time to finish the job. Ten minutes later, the Orc appears once more, his hair all sticking up, his shirt a bit torn. “Ya human SCUM,” he yells. “I’m just warming up. Come and get me, ya Redguard pansies.”
The commander loses patience, and orders 500 men to take out the Orc. They pour out of the fortress en masse and ride across the field of battle. Ten minutes later, the Orc is back. His clothing is all torn and his face is covered in blood. “Is that the best ye can do? You fight like wood elves. Come on,” he yells.
The commander is nonplussed. “Take 1000 men over that hill and don’t come back till you’ve killed him,” he commands. His second in command musters the men and they ride off over the hill to their fate. Ten minutes later, one of the troops appears back at the top of the hill. He’s covered in blood and his clothes are all torn. “Commander,” he yells. “It’s a trap.
There’s TWO of them!”
A Khajiit, a Redguard, and an Altmer are sitting in a prison on Summerset Isle. Out of boredom, they began to discuss their circumstances.
The Altmer asks the Khajiit what his crime was.
“I snuck into the house of a wizard and tried to make off with his potions and scrolls,” the Khajiit answered. “I needed to pay off my skooma dealer.”
“And your sentence?” The Redguard asked.
“They will brand me with magicka-driven flames and exile me to Elsweyr. What are you in for?” the Khajiit answered, saddened by what the High Elves intended to do to his beautiful fur.
“I was overheard telling the tale of how I defeated an Altmer gladiator in the Arena in the Imperial City.” the Redguard answered.
“What’ll they do to you?” The Altmer asked.
“Just deport me. And you?” the Redguard answered.
“I’m condemned to death.” the Altmer said quietly.
“By S’rendarr, what did you do?” the Khajiit exclaimed.
“I said that all races are equal before the gods,” the Altmer said.
Two Khajiits and an Argonian were walking down a beach. The Argonian tripped over a bottle, and out popped Sheogorath.
“You have found me in a particularly good mood this day; And so I will grant you each one wish,” proclaimed Sheogorath.
The first Khajiit thought for one moment, and then said, “Oh great Skooma Cat, I wish for a mountain of moon sugar.”
“Granted,” said Sheogorath, and the Khajiit had as much moon sugar as he could ever eat.
The second Khajiit looked at the first Khajiit’s mountain of moon sugar and exclaimed, “Oh great Skooma Cat, please bless me with a giant lake filled with skooma.”
“Granted,” said Sheogorath, and the second Khajiit had as much skooma as he could drink.
“And what do you wish for?” Sheogorath asked the Argonian.
“I wish the skooma lake and moon sugar mountain were both poisoned.”
There once was a wealthy Altmer who kept a score of prized hounds. He was careful about their breeding, and so kept them locked in the stables.
One night a thief got into his stables and happened to let one of the Altmer’s prized hounds out. A week later it returned pregnant. The wealthy Altmer was nonplussed, but could never be sure, so he decided to let nature take its course.
Nearly two months later, someone broke into his stables again. This time it was a poor Breton couple, who could not find an open inn in time for his wife to give birth. The Breton wife delivered her child in the stables. They then heard footsteps approaching, and so they hid themselves in the hay.
The wealthy Altmer heard crying in his stable, and thus found the child squalling in the hay.
“Another damned mutt,” the Altmer sighed, and turned to his stable-hand. “Take this abomination and throw it in the river.”
One day, Tiber Septim was walking down a crowded avenue when he chanced upon a man who looked strikingly similar to himself.
Tiber approached the man and asked, “You look familiar. Are you related? Did your mother perchance work as a maid in the palace?”
To which the peasant replied, “No Your Majesty, but my father worked there as a gardener.”