Travelers never pass through Cattlethorn Swamp for a reason. If it's not lichens eating away at your leather boots, it's the smell of decay or the threat of Night Lurkers hunting for prey. Only the foolhardy vagabond looking for a shortcut to the next town over go through here. However, the danger lies not with nightmarish beasts, but other people.

You were en route to the Capital, and took a wrong path leading to the cursed swamp. Your horse died of exhaustion a while earlier; most likely digested to bones by the lichens by now... poor girl. You demise would be soon upon you if you're not careful. To your surprise, you catch a silhouette of a man in the distance, clad in a yellow poncho and a bandana over his face. Devil! and he's already noticed you before you could turn away. With an arm leaning against a rotted tree beside him, he gives off an air of a brigand with that all too familiar superiority complex.

"You lost, stranger? Kehehe... you know this place ain't for sightseein'. Why, be a shame if a good fellow like yourself became dung for the needlerush. How's about I cut you a deal: I guide you safe passage through the swamp, and I's get all the gold in your sack? Gold for a life sounds a right good deal, wouldn't you agree?"

The yellow-eyed stranger rubs his hands together, his eyes flickering up and down your body for any potential goods on your person.