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[My Name is Immaterial]

"Uncle... Why did you specifically mention the wedding?" Arwen turns to his uncle, an eyebrow raising. Suddenly the feeling he got whenever he saw an animal near his uncle was making sense, as was the disappearance of that kitten he'd found when he was just a boy. He can't leave these eggs with his Uncle. No matter what.

"And where are these vats of acid?"

Dwaine's brow furrows at Arwen's questions, but responds, as ever, flatly. "You intend to return for the wedding, no? It's a convenient time marker. I predict that my acid could reduce the incubation time to a fifth: 60 days. By the wedding, they should be a few weeks old. And my vats are in the basement, to prevent accidents. Why this line of questioning, boy?"
(Arwen's Insight, with Advantage for familiarity: 12+0 2)
Despite knowing his uncle well, he's the same implacable wall as ever. If he was lying or hiding something, you would need some evidence of this to get any traction.

[TheBiggerFish]

"T' be frank, wizards y' dinna' know tae well 'r 'ard ta trust wi' things y' dinna' wan' ta see damaged.  Nae offense t' ye.  I' th' intrest o' ge'in it out i' th' open, can we trust ye wi' Rex's kin if we leave 'em' ere?  Will ye raise 'em well, nae as one of y'r 'xper'm'nts?  Fer the sake o' yer kin."

[My Name is Immaterial]

"T' be frank, wizards y' dinna' know tae well 'r 'ard ta trust wi' things y' dinna' wan' ta see damaged.  Nae offense t' ye.  I' th' intrest o' ge'in it out i' th' open, can we trust ye wi' Rex's kin if we leave 'em' ere?  Will ye raise 'em well, nae as one of y'r 'xper'm'nts?  Fer the sake o' yer kin."

"No offense taken," says Dwaine, nodding in agreement, but a chrittering sound (which seems to be in a tone of mocking disapproval) from the aforementioned pile of magical accoutrement and debris (the one that includes a stuffed rat with rat-sized human hands and feet, and had previously called Arwen uncultured for not wanting to replace Rex's soul with an otherworldly spirit) undercuts his understanding statement. He rebukes it with another disapproving glare over his shoulder.
"I can assure you that if you leave any Drakes with me, they will be fine. I am always in need of extra defenses, and Drakes match my aesthetic perfectly."

[FelixSparks]

Arwen ponders this for a moment. His Uncle was a Wizard, someone who pursued knowledge like it was all they lived for, but in the end he was family. If nothing else, family meant that he could be trusted. Arwen nodded to the group, facing his Uncle again.

"Sorry Uncle, I've found myself more curious as of late. We'll leave the eggs with you, to pick them up when we return whenever that may be. The Drakes will likely enjoy staying with you as well, but I believe I'll take Rex with me."

[Dwarmin]

"Right, that's decided then." Johanna was eager to begin her work and wanted to shoo away the rest of the party. "I suggest you all find something to occupy yourselves for the next few days, we're on a very strict schedule..."

[My Name is Immaterial]

Adrik:
(Smithing check (Str+Prof): 14+4)
(Research check: Insta pass)
Adrik's half-tenday is spent hammering away at a borrowed forge until he cant raise his arm for another hammer blow. Then, he continues devouring Dwaine's library for secrets and hidden knowledge.
What does Adrik smith? Goods to sell? A new weapon? An upgrade for a weapon?
What does Adrik wish to learn about? The secrets of magic? The dangers of the river? The mysteries of his birth? Something else?

Arwen:
Arwen is welcomed back into the ranks of the guard, even if it's just for a few days. His comrades from before hang on his every word, especially his lurid tales of doing battle with the forces of darkness. Still, he can't help but feel distant from them... something has changed between them... it may be the newfound magic, or the dangers unfathomable he's faced, or just having traveled, but he can't connect with them as readily... Food for thought later. Either way, he makes good pay for guard duty, and being instrumental in a sting operation, earning 10 GP.
As guardsmen gossip like old wives, Arwen can learn more about local issues. What does he choose to investigate? The skulking secret society? The ravenous river? Something else?

Cora:
Cora dons a pair of heavy gloves, and assists Dwaine in preparing the eggs for their incubation. A special acid bath is prepared for the eggs, according specifications determined by a vigorous debate between Cora, Dwaine, and some consultation with Johanna's Black Book. When not busy dunking eggs in acid, Cora immerses herself in research (pun intended). Figuring that the best way to learn more is to go straight to the source, she learns that temples to Bahamut are incredibly rare, as are priests of Bahamut. This comes in part from the the philosophy of His worshippers being “pray with one’s deeds, not one’s mouth.” There are mentions of a couple groups who are vaguely organized to support the holy mission of Bahamut: the Talons of Justice and the Platinum Cadre, but few details are revealed about them with a cursory investigation.
Would Cora prefer to learn more about the Talons of Justice, the Platinum Cadre, or general worshippers of Bahamut? Or something else?

[FelixSparks]

Arwen slides up to the other members of the guard after a rather boring patrol, lifting his helmet off. "What was that bit about a secret society?"

[My Name is Immaterial]

His colleagues, a pair named Timothy and Joseph, pause in their changing out of uniform. Timothy glares in Joseph's direction, but it does nothing to assuage the look growing on Joseph's face.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Timothy grumbles, "Shit, you had to go and get him started."
"Shut up, you know I'm right," Joseph retorts. "And so does the chief, that's why they don't want me talking about it!"
"No, they want you keep your crazy ass ideas to yourself."
"Whatever, look, Arwen, back, like a hundred years ago, there was a bard college in Berdusk, but it was really just a flimsy front for the Harpers." The mention of this organization extolls a serious eye roll from Timothy. "They were a bunch of bards who conspired to influence the entire Sword Coast's future, but the whole thing fell apart during the Time of Troubles. At least, that's the official line that people like Tim here want to you believe. But trust me, I know what really happened. Ya see, bards don't give two shits about gods most of the time, so when they start walking around among us mortals, they'll just try and bang 'em, ya know? Anyway, they broke down, but there are still a bunch of small cells operating all independently. I don't know what they want, but there are way too many bard here, for a place without a bard college."
"Gods, Joe, this is all because that one bard slapped you after you tried to drunkenly flirt with her, isn't it?"
This seems to hit a nerve, and drives Joseph even further into his crazy blabbering. "You know it's true! You've seen it too! We've done the patrol by Lyon's tower hundreds of times! You've seen the bards going in and out! Have you ever heard any music coming from there? Have you?! HAVE YOU?"
The two wander off, still arguing loudly about drunken nights, and politically active bards, leaving Arwen with nagging sensation in the back of his mind about his uncle... What did he know? Was he involved?

[Twinwolf]

Let's take a look into the Platinum Cadre. And the Talons of Justice if we have the time after the first.

[My Name is Immaterial]

The Platinum Cadre is a an order of dragonborn knights from Tymanther, the (relatively) recently appeared nation of dragonborn, sworn to the service of Bahamut. In the interest of avoiding the technicalities of a nation over a thousand miles to the east, members of the Platinum Cadre are outcasts of tymari society. Thanks to this, and recent wars that have embroiled the nation, members of the Platinum Cadre have spread out through the Realms, seeking to do battle with the minions of Bahamut's nemesis, Tiamat. There are reports of a small band who have joined the Order of the Gauntlet, a recently established organization of priests, clerics, paladins, and other holy warriors, devoted to combating evil. One could find a handful members of the order in any major city.

The Talons of Justice are (were?) an order of silver dragon paladins dedicated to Xymor, the ancient draconic ideal that Bahamut represented. They were decimated over a hundred years ago, and have occasionally resurfaced. The most recent account Cora can find refers to them operating alongside an organization called the Harpers. The account moves quickly on, not leaving much to go on.

[FelixSparks]

Arwen will head to Lyon's Tower, knocking on the door. "Uncle? It's Arwen. I was hoping you had some time to talk a bit? There's some things I'd like to ask you."

[My Name is Immaterial]

Dwaine calls Arwen in from behind the door; he's likely nose deep in his studies with Johanna. And, indeed, as Arwen enters, thus is the truth; Dwaine barely looks up from his work. A large rat scurries by, diving into a pile of spare widgets before Arwen can get a good look at it.
"Ah, Arwen. Please, take a seat. You wanted to talk?" He locks Arwen firmly with a solitary eye, while the other remains focused on the notes he is taking.

[Dwarmin]

Johanna's voiced called out from somewhere in the back.

"Dwaine, I've found the solution to the aetheric transduction tensor! You need to add ten parts liquid viscous transelements-preferably glycerolipid-before divining it into the compound-matrix! Also, add a bit of bacon!"

[FelixSparks]

Arwen sits, trying to ignore the rat and what it was doing. For now, he needed allies. And he needed to depend on his family. His voice dropped low so that Johanna could, hopefully, not overhear him. "Uncle... What are the Harpers?"

[My Name is Immaterial]

Johanna's voiced called out from somewhere in the back.

"Dwaine, I've found the solution to the aetheric transduction tensor! You need to add ten parts liquid viscous transelements-preferably glycerolipid-before divining it into the compound-matrix! Also, add a bit of bacon!"

"The compound-matrix could never hold the dimensional shift acceleration of the transelements! We'd rip open a rift to the... without some stabilizationnnn... By the gods, woman! You're mad! You're a genius! That might just work!"

Arwen sits, trying to ignore the rat and what it was doing. For now, he needed allies. And he needed to depend on his family. His voice dropped low so that Johanna could, hopefully, not overhear him. "Uncle... What are the Harpers?"

Still enraptured by the arcane eureka, he turns to Arwen, and begins to explain at lightning speed. "You see, Arwen, the bacon is the key here! Without some sort of anchor to the Prime Material-"
He cuts off, because Arwen is in no way distracted from his original question. "Well, I suppose I should have expected this day once you left for your travels. Simply put, the Harpers are a group of... concerned citizens from the nations of the Faerun, with an interest in keeping this land safe from those who would spread chaos." He pauses for a moment. "In short, I... assist their operations in this city. Some would say I oversee them, and that would not be inaccurate. Being a spymaster is useful in my public line of work. As I hope I have been able to impress upon you, the power of magic does not rest in your spells, curses, or potions. It rests in the idea of magic. I cannot smell magic; no man can. I simply have a network of informants who heralded you and your company. Knowing that you mysteriously acquired magical powers, with a small educated guess, gave me an impressive parlor trick. A little forethought and some stagecraft can go a long way."