Fishing for Answers

Robairlain: One bream, two breams, three breams, four...
Robairlain: Eh? 'Ow long ye plannin' on standin' there, then? 'Tis 'ard enough t' catch a fish wivout a bleedin' audience dissectin' me every twitch.
Robairlain: Oh, an' you reckon I'd 'ave more luck if I spent less time countin' the buggers and more time reelin' 'em in now, do ye? Well, answer me this: does it look like I enjoy tallyin' breams when I could be playin' tug-o'-war wiv a two-tonze sturgeon?
Robairlain: Was a time not too far back, if ye'd asked any one o' these pier rats who th' best fisher in th' city was, they'd've pointed ye t' me. Been droppin' lines in Galadion Bay since the day me little fingers could grip a rod. Not a fish in the sea that I ain't caught.
Robairlain: Trouble is, lately, there don't seem t' be no more fish to catch. 'Tis why I was surveyin' the waters jus' now. Not more'n a year ago, there were so many breams in this bay, the Twelve 'adn't thought o' numbers 'igh enough t' count 'em all. Today? Four is all I've spied, an' that's down from th' paltry eight I seen yesterday. But I've 'ad an idea about where they might've gone.
Robairlain: You look to 'ave a keen eye, so I'd wager me mornin' piss that ye've noticed th' bloody great crabs scuttlin' on th' nearby cliffs. Now, I ain't one o' them scholarlies from the Gate, so whether those crabs've grown large by eatin' all th' fish, or 'ave begun eatin' all the fish because they've grown large, I cannot rightly say.
Robairlain: But me gut tells me, if some lad or lass were t' cull a crab or five, there'd be fish back in th' bay before the sun went down.

Robairlain: Well, if someone doesn't kill them crabs, it won't be long before the bay's as lifeless as a blinkin' fishback's stare.

Robairlain: From what I know o' th' currents in these waters, I'd say 'twas the crabs near Aleport what were eatin' all the region's fish. I'd start there, was I you.