Quickly Avoni yanks out her trusty steel weapon. With a determined slash she cuts the Dwemer ghost across the chest, just below where it connects to its head! Ectoplasm leaks out, spilling down the entity's torso. For a moment, the grip on her arm slackens and the ghost seems to deflate, pausing in mid-air. But in the next instant the bleeding slime is absorbed and the cut disappears. The loosened grip tightens once more and the ghost advances again. The attack was useless! Why had she tried to attack a ghost without a silver weapon? Cursing, Avoni moved to channel a fireball, but it was now too late. The Dwemer grasped her free hand and hovered its face above her own. "Mine." It spoke, in a determined and triumphant tone.
Pressed up against the workbench and unable to move, Avoni wriggled in place as the Dwemer ghost opened its maw wide and slid down over her head. The room, which had been a dark shade of red, shifted to a sickly green. Avoni could see through the ectoplasmic 'flesh' of her attacker, but only in the direction her face was pointed, Avoni was stiffly held in place by the being's pseudo muscles. It felt like she was being consumed by a giant spoiled fortify fatigue potion, a nauseating stench and disgusting cloying assaulted her sense. The slimy throat slid over her shoulders, binding her arms to her sides. As more of her slid inside the ghost's malleable body, she was bowed forward, almost at a right angle at her hips.
As the ghost struggled to pull more of the lithe Dunmer woman inside itself, Avoni was lifted an inch off the metal flooring and held hovering in the air. In the next movement, she was pushed and pulled forward, spinning and tumbling around the axis of her hips. With physics as her enemy, Avoni was crumpled mercilessly into the stomach of the creature, unable to brace herself against the sticky, glutinous skin. Upside down now Avoni felt her torso and legs pressing down on her as they were shoved into the cramped but elastic stomach. Sensing victory, the Dwemer took a few last swallows, forcing her bare, smooth, dark-skinned legs down into the belly with the rest.
With a contented burp, the Dwemer ghost patted its now round belly, gazing fondly at the Dunmer maiden floating helplessly within. "Mine." It said happily.
As she pressed at the yielding but unbreakable walls of slime, Avoni could feel her bare skin and her clothing begin to break down. It wasn't the bite of acid, but just an unmaking of her body and organic items. Lifting a hand in front of her face, she watched as it turned to goop, fingers turning translucent then losing cohesion, sloughing off herself and congealing in a growing puddle around her. She could feel it all over, not pain, just the loss of extremities. She couldn't wiggle her toes anymore, because they did not exist. Her legs and arms followed and she became a torso and head hanging in a bolus of green ectoplasm, her own green ectoplasm.
She felt the ooze creep between her pursed lips and fill her mouth. Moments later, she lost consciousness as her unique form collapsed. Where minutes before a daring Dunmer adventurer had stood, now only a sack of bubbling green goo hung in space. Sensing his meal was finished processing, the ghost released its bowels, such as they were. A pile of Avoni ectoplasm plummeted the four feet to the floor, splattering on contact. A small ring of alteration magic, four weak potion bottles and her steel dagger clattered among the remains.
Floating closer to the floor, the Dwemer swept the dagger and potions into the magma pit, before lifting the small ring with its ghostly hands. "Mine." It spoke again, pleased. Placing the shiny, though sticky, ring next to the piled jewels on the bench; the ghost faded from sight, happily haunting its cache of treasure.
What was left of Avoni quietly dribbled into the cracks in the floor, before settling in place, surrounded by the puddled remains of the many other hapless adventurers too stupid to use magic or silver weapons against ghosts.
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