The Hanging Lantern

The Lantern is a large, windowless building that rises a full six floors above the street. Thanks to flooding and old sewer tunnels, it has no cellars. It’s dim inside, and hushed - —except for the constant, gentle flute and harp music. Both the music and the sound-eating, I’'m told, are due to magic.

Folk come to the Lantern for just one purpose, slipping in any of its seven doors into small, intimate rooms. In each room, a matchmaker waits.

There clients are interviewed, pay and are ushered into one of many narrow dark passages and stairs that leads to the room of their chosen. I’m told that not a few stabbings and stranglings occur in these dark passages when one patron lies in wait for another. Selected escorts can also meet clients by appointment. The matchmakers seem expert at knowing exactly what clients want— - even those who refuse to say.

No one, not even the Lanterns hired escorts, is sure how many matchmakers work at the Lantern. The spokeswoman for the Lantern is a dignified elderly lady of rich dress and cultured manners named Lady Cyrtue.

Escorts can be had for as little as 10 sp for on-the-arm service only. If acting is involved, such as playing a false part in a conversation meant to be overheard or pretending to wealth or identity in business dealings, the minimum fee is 25 sp. If more is desired, fees rise from there to a high of around 75 sp. The matchmakers have an uncanny ability to know how much a client can pay. Discretion is assured.

If a client just wants to hire bodies— - a group of folk to accompany her on a stroll or tavern crawl through Dock Ward, say as a bodyguard party, or to fool someone into thinking the client is part of a group or has lots of friends— - they can be had for as little as 7 to 9 sp/head per evening. The Lantern has a call list of those down on their luck, and charges 3 sp for the trouble of sending a runner boy for them and providing suitable garb.

The business the Lantern do forces it to deal in a little-known sideline. It's the closest thing to a costume rental service Waterdeep has, providing fooling clothing for many occasions. Costumes are sometimes rented out, typically for 1 sp per night. Renters must pay for replacement of any damaged garments.

There are many many tales of finding long-lost heart-mates here, but there are also rumors that drugged captives are kept here to await a slaver's’ ship or recovery by kidnap gangs. I saw no evidence of that - —but I did see carried out the body of an unfortunate merchant who'’d met a creditor on the stairs and been a bit too slow with his dagger.