I deliver the handfuls of goo to Wilimar, who... reads them?
"My goodness," he says as he hands me my pay. "This is both interesting and distressing."
"You have no idea," I tell him.
"It seems this was written by a fellow named Callum. Apparently a distant ancestor of mine slew one of his, and he means to revenge himself on me. The arrow he shot into my door is that one that my ancestor used to kill his!"
I glance at the arrow. "Judging from his aim, I'm not sure you're in all that much danger, even if he manages to get his hands on another arrow."
"I think I know where to find him. It says here that he set up his camp in the Frogmoors."
"It's just west of here."
So Wilimar sends me to confront his cross-eyed nemesis. Just west of here? Hm. Isn't that where I-
Oh, damn it. He's sending me into the swamp, isn't he? Yes, he is.
Not just a little ways, either. I trek a good ways west and eventually pass the town of Frogmorton. Callum is actually on the far western edge of the swamp. I'm in the mood to draw some blood by the time I get there, which is unfortunate because Callum is nearly out.
"So the rat-man sent you to end my life, did he?" Callum coughs at me. He doesn't get up. He's leaning against a tree and nursing a grievous wound in his side.
I shrug. "He just said to stop you. I think the killing bit was just wishful thinking on my part. But now that I'm here I'm betting you're going to-"
"Let me tell you my tale...," he begins.
"Yeah. Just so you know, I saw this coming."