Editing Openai/6940dc36-f820-8002-8656-3492c2d4fc89 (section)

=== Assistant: Jobasha’s eyes gleam behind the counter as he accepts the challenge, his long ears twitching with interest. ===
Jobasha’s eyes gleam behind the counter as he accepts the challenge, his long ears twitching with interest. “Ahhh, a game, yes? Jobasha enjoys games. Especially ones involving chance… and literacy.” He produces a small, well-worn dice cup from beneath the counter—clearly not its first outing—and rolls first. The bones clatter across the polished wood, coming up respectable, but not extraordinary. Jobasha gives a theatrical sigh, tail swishing. “Hmm. Adequate. The dice are in a philosophical mood today.”

When Uncle Eevee rolls, he pauses—Ordinator armor creaking softly among the stacks—murmuring a brief, silent prayer to Azura. The dice tumble, strike the edge of a book, and settle decisively. Jobasha blinks, then laughs, a delighted, booming Khajiiti chuckle. “Ah! Azura favors you, walker! Very well—Jobasha honors his word.” He selects three books with care: a slim volume of holiday poetry from the Ashlands, a minor spell tome concerning restoration and ritual magic, and an obscure Dunmeri folktale involving moons, cats, and poor life choices. “Read them well. Return them someday. Or do not. Knowledge is never truly lost.”

Uncle Eevee remains unwelcome to the Ordinators for… obvious reasons, but for the moment, all is calm within Jobasha’s Rare Books.

What would Uncle Eevee like to do next?