"But ... but I need more drips and splashes now," Xarprax replies, looking disappointed.

Wiping away some of the water that has run down her horns into her face, Verrynia addresses the elf.

You said your watchman has seen it first hand. Where can we find them?

"He works the night shift, so he went to sleep a few hours ago. He doesn't have a house so he sleeps on the boat." She points to the boat behind her with her thumb. "Want me to wake him?"

Verrynia nods, "Might as well."

"Sure. But how about a favor for a favor? While I get him up and about you go deliver the message I was supposed to deliver when I bumped into you guys?." She looks around the jetty and turns back to Verrynia.

"Go to the Weaslery and tell Slim that we can't sell him ivory this week due to the fog. When you come back just walk up the gangplank and wait by the main mast unless we're up there waiting for you. Sound fair?" 

Khurah eyes Xarprax, growing doubtful of the stones (and not for the first time). "Well, it doesn't take five to deliver one message. I'll tell Slim, little one."

The half orc turns to the others. "Try not to get yourselves murdered before I get back."

She heads to the Weaslery without waiting for a reply.

As Khurah walks away, Verrynia mutters "but it's less fun if you don't try."

Quote from TheNuttyOne >>

As Khurah walks away, Verrynia mutters "but it's less fun if you don't try."

 “And you certainly try.” Gunnar says bluntly.

"Wait 'till you see me really try," Verrynia retorts with a grin before returning her attention to the elf. "I believe we were about to meet the watchman."

Xarprax, looking intently at Krudak's side, pinches some of the cloth of the monk's robes between his dragon's fingers and tugs a little. "Robes," he says slowly. But at Verrynia's mention of the watchman, the dragonborn turns to look, dismissing his earlier confusion. "Yes, it's time to solve this mystery."

"Yes Xarprax?", Krumdak looks down at his robes.

"Oh! I almost forgot", Krumdak exclaimes. "I found something or rather something missing from the whalingship. Part of the figure is broken or destroyed. Perhaps we should take a closer look at that?"

So the party splits. For as Khurah said. 5 people to deliver a simple message is overkill. 

Khurah: 
You make your way to the Weaslery easily enough. You make your way through the town square and pass a large building made from repurposed grey stone and rubble and you spot the top of the large tent that is the Weaslery. The canvas of the large tent is dark brown and circular, like the tent of a travelling circus, but when you close in on it you see that it is made for semi permanent purposes. Enormous iron rods are planted into the ground for the canvas to be mounted upon and large thick ropes are twirled down them, anchoring the giant cloth roof to the ground. You can hear voices from inside. 

When you enter the market tent you see maybe 20 to 30 different booths and shacks all placed in a circle, every booth is facing another booth with a path in between them. People are working in about half the booths hollering at the patrons passing by. From the entrance you see a different array of salesmen some selling food items or knick knacks, some specialize in clothes or herbs and others "everything you need to build YOUR dream shack!" (at least if you are to believe the shouting vendor). The ships encircle a tall, but narrow building, almost tower-like in the middle of the room. On the roof of it stands what could almost look like a flag pole. The main tent pole, this one of what looks like solid steel. 

Now. Where to find a Mr Slim...

Meanwhile at the jetty... 
The elf looks after Khurah as she heads on to deliver the message. "She didn't even ask how to reach him. Oh well.." She turns around and starts walking up the gangplank. "Just wait out on deck, I'll fetch Ol' Ryefield." She dissappears into the ship and a few minutes later she comes out, with an older human gentleman rubbing his eyes trailing her. The watchman, you presume. He looks near retirement age, at least for a watchman. Both of his eyes are red from either a lack of sleep or him rubbing them too hard. He is wearing what looks like his nightly garments under a large seal skin coat. "Heyyy.. are these the scallops that wanted to know about the gibbering fog?" ,the man asks your new elven friend. He walks up to you and clears his throat. "It all started about a month ago. I was out one night, taking the nightly watch when I saw it. I was in the crows nest you see.. I prefer the height. I can almost see what the people in the town square are doing from up there!.. Anyway.. I was up there. Minding my own business. When a spooky looking grey fog appeared, RIGHT HERE ON THIS VERY SHIP! Ooooh yes! I've been the watchman on this here ship for about 30 years now and I've never seen fog appear like that before. Then the sounds started! Gibbering noises, almost like the fog was speaking in tongues in a language i didn't know. And then some splashes. And more gibbering. And then!" He leans in towards Verrynias face, inches away from it. It seems like he has practiced and told this story too many times... "And then young lady.... some more splashes... AND THEN!! The fog disappeared, and with it the entirety of our catch! Even the captains hat was missing! FROM HIS QUARTERS!" The man takes a step back and crosses his arms with a content look upon his face. The elf stands behind him, rolling her eyes at his story. 

Xarprax squints at the old man. "So you were above the fog?" He leans toward Krumdak. "I think this guy's one kobold short of a dinner party."

"Ooh yes the lousy fog couldn't reach up there. Only reached a little over halfway up the mast!" He points to the main mast of the ship. "Didn't even get my soles damp from the moisture!" He taps both of his feet. 

Xarprax makes a rude noise with his lips in disbelief.

Gunnar tilts his head, creaking a bit, “That so? Have you encountered this fog regularly?”

Ryefield pats the main mast of the ship. "I take watch every other night and I have seen the fog three times! Once on our boat, and the other two times I've seen it appear around the smaller fishing boats." He puts his hands in his coat pockets. "The fog appears basically every night so I've seen it alright. Never reaches the crows nest! If you want to see it for yourself you can join the night shift tonight. Not up in the crows nest of course, it's only room enough for one person to stay comfortably, but you can camp out on the jetty or on land and see it for yourselves!" 

Xarprax looks at the old man again. "Oh!" he exclaims. "So, this is like a magic cloud! Not real fog. You see anybody suspicious on the dock those days?"

"MAGIC! MAGIC HE SAYS! Oh yeah... probably.. STILL SPOOKY THOUGH!" When Xarprax mentions suspicious activity the man starts twirling the hairs of a small soulpatch growing underneath his bottom lip. "Naaaah, not really. Some fishermen hang out by and even sleep in their boats now in hope of hindering the fog from stealing their catches. If it weren't for the fog THAT would be suspicious! Small fishing boats really aren't the most comfortable of beds!" He chuckles. "But to answer your question. No. I don't think so." 

"Is it just the daily catch that goes missing or have people gone missing aswell?" Krumdak asks the watchman. He then turns to the group, "maybe we shall stay one night at the boat to see the fog for ourselves?"