Sorkvild's Journal, Volume I

Volume I: Journal of Sorkvild the Raven
  
Today I visited Tel Aruhn and spent a pleasant hour discussing business with the Dunmer, Savile Imayn. I purchased a young Breton woman under the illusion she was to clean and cook for me because the last slave run off while collecting ingredients from Dagon Fel.
  
She was a pretty young thing and it was a shame to snuff out her life when I returned but my work demands a fresh corpse and in these times and the bureaucracy that goes with it, it makes it very difficult to acquire such a specimen without these means.
  
I have stripped and cleaned the body and other than the method of death, a slim dagger through the neck pushed up into the brain, she appears a perfect subject.
  
I have placed the body in a vat of fresh salted water to preserve it and to prevent the smell of death that always lingers in the air several days after a fresh kill. I shall leave the tower on further business for several weeks now and hope she is ready when I return.
  
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My return from Skyrim was long and arduous but to my cheer I find my specimen ready for her embalming process.
  
After several hours I now have a fine subject to work with. She is bandaged and indeed mummified and she will be a loyal and strong servant for my needs.
  
I must arrange for carriage of her body to my island refuge so that we are not disturbed during the summoning.
  
My minions have disguised the body by placing it in a large trunk and wrapping it in Guar skin. They will easily pass as traders with the ship master in Dagon Fel and the goods will not be examined further.
  
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The slave girl, Marelle, has been placed on the altar and I have dressed in her clothes, consumed her organs and drank from the chalice. A circle made from strips of Guar skin has been arranged around the altar and the marks of Arkay placed inside it.
  
I must bless my dagger before I cut the throat of a Guar and may it's blood be my sacrifice, a life for a life.
  
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Success! Marelle is indeed everything I had hoped and will do my bidding on demand. She has been dressed and cloaked and although walks quite stiffly she should pass as a sick passenger on our return to Dagon Fel and my tower.
  
My conjuration skills are surpassing that of the great necromancers of history and soon I may command my own army of the dead and rid this land of the mages guild once and for all.
  
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With the aid of the helm of Clavicus Vile, Marelle has managed to walk the town of Dagon Fel without any concern from those meddling Imperial guards or the local towns folk. It is only a matter of time before I discover how to enchant a hundred, no, a thousand such helms and ravage all of Vvardenfel with my army.
  
It may be just my macabre sense of existence but I am beginning to find Marelle quite alluring in a strange sort of way and my thoughts could even defile the laws of necrophilia let alone necromancy. I must be careful and take from her the helm or I may find myself unable to work with her any further.
  
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Today I instructed Jonis to take the helm from Marelle which ended in disastrous consequences. Jonis was torn limb from limb by Marelle who appears to posses unmeasurable strength.

I must recheck my notes and other papers and books to find out what went wrong with the summoning as she seems to have a mind of her own.