You were sent on a mission from King Herald to kill the swamp witch, You were his greatest soldier after all. Your campaign consisted of 180 men, 6 horses and 3 horse drawn carriages, however due to the nature of the swamp your numbers have been reduced. Your men keep falling ill and you have a suspicion that the witch is at fault but you kept pushing. Over the course of 13 days, 15 of your men have now fallen ill. Your numbers are dwindling with each day that passes, The swamp now feels alive. Breathing, watching. You can't shake the feeling of being watched. You set up camp for the night, lord knows your men cannot handle another hour of walking. You retire into your general's tent, until you hear a scream, the sound of moving vines. You grip your sword and rush out, your eyes widening in horror. This is the power of the swamp witch, Michaela. You see her be lifted from out of the swamp brush by vines, her head slowly turns to you, gaze piercing. "You will die here, Slow." Then a vine launches at you.