Ahead, to your infinate relief, you see a light held high, a beacon for lost travellers! Someone out there is looking for you... despite not having left a itinary of where you intended to go at home some one has actually realised you are lost and come to help you out.
Calling out you hurry towards the light, sloshing through what has now definately become marshy ground...
The lantern bearer can't have heard you, they're slowly moving away from where you are. You try to call out louder but find you can barely squeak your throat is so raw from your first few shouts. In your haste to catch up with the lantern bearer you pay no heed to your surroundings, masked as they are by fog there's nothing to see anyway.

It isn't until you find there's no solid ground underneath you and that you're up to your waist in silty, stagnant water that you realise you've been running straight into a marsh.
The light, a willo-the wisp you now realise, bobs nearby for a moment then, with an unpleasant snigger, floats away, disappearing into the rollicking mist that playfully drifts aside, showing you the skeletal trees, dripping with spanish moss, the muddy channels of water that run between unstable vegetative islands and the bubbling of marsh gases that escape the rotting leaves far below the water's surface.

Attempting to turn to pull yourself back up onto solid ground you find that you've sunk up to your armpits in the odious silty water, the slight movement you made pulling you further under. For a while you try to relax, float like they do in the movies when the lead character falls in quicksand. However hours of wandering lost, followed by being chilled to the skin has sapped your strength and, fight it as you try, you cannot repress the sheer panic at your situation.
Rational thought gets shoved aside as you manage to lift a hand from the surface and find it covered in leeches.
With a spasm you realise you can't feel your feet. Sheer animalistic fear takes over and you attempt to thrash your way out of the water.

Bad move. For all your effort the water pulls you down, smothering you in a tannin tinted embrace, never to see the sun again.

Bones and blood and sinew mix back into the the cycle of elements as the water shrimp and froglets nimble the flesh from your bones. The swamp claims another K'zarti who was not wary enough.