Whoever designed those plague babies needs to die. When they do, they will go to hell for creating such abominations - and according to poetic justice, they will find those very plague babies there, eagerly awaiting them in hell.
Trying to grab all the loot in the swamp was a pain in the rear. Plague babies made it hell, but having to stop every minute to cure plague and heal made me rage. Brushwood armor does not have very good plague resistance.