Red Larch is a town on the Long Road, a few days' travel north of Waterdeep and a few days' travel south of Triboar. A bustling town nestled in the heart of the Dessarin Valley, it serves as a way stop for caravans coming to or from the cities of the North, with an inn named the Swinging Sword, a tavern called the Helm at Highsun, and many craftspeople who cater to travelers.

Red Larch is a hub of trade and commerce, known for its high-quality goods and services. The town is also home to a wide variety of people, including farmers, craftsmen, and traders. Protected by a strong group of guards and is ruled by a council of respected merchants and officials, Red Larch is always bustling with activity.

As you enter the town gates, you are struck by the energetic atmosphere and lively activity. The streets are lined with merchants hawking their wares, from fresh produce to finely crafted weapons. The air is filled with the sounds of people talking and laughing, horses neighing, and the clanging of blacksmiths at their forges. As you make your way further into the town, you can't help but feel the excitement and wonder of discovery of a new place.

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Map of The Dessarin Valley

Map of Red Larch

Information Available for Red Larch
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:43, Thu 15 Dec 2022.

Titan took a deep breath through his nose, held the brisk northern air in his lungs for a moment, then exhaled slowly through his mouth. The journey from Waterdeep had been a long one, crowded as he had been in the back of a wagon with eight other passengers, and Titan was grateful to stretch his legs and smell something other than sweaty travelers - even if the breeze did carry the rank smell of manure and the musty scent of horses and other beasts of burden.

He hadn't quite expected to begin a tour of the northern Sword Coast so late in the year, but he could hardly decline a trip into the valley and away from the nobles of Waterdeep when the caravan was willing to take him this far for the pittance of a few songs along the road. After a few quick smiles and questions of passers-by, Titan found his bearings and headed for the tavern.

Once inside, Titan chatted up the bartender, offering a grin and a smoldering gaze while retying the thick locks of his hair at the crown of his skull. Titan accepted the freely proffered swill with a wink, then hooked his free arm through his lyre strap as he turned towards the open space in front of the tavern's fireplace. It was too early for a crowd - whatever a crowd might be in this town - but Titan would make damn sure he would at least get enough tips to pay for a night at the inn.