Rainoga

The Blushing Mermaid is one of Baldur’s Gate’s most notorious dens of vice, straddling the border between tavern, flophouse, and criminal nexus. Situated in the Lower City near the docks, it thrives on chaos and danger, offering no-frills drink, crooked deals, and fistfights served with a grin. Its infamy stretches far beyond the city, drawing mercenaries, pirates, spies, and thrill-seekers from across the Sword Coast. Officially an inn, the Mermaid functions more as neutral ground for underworld dealings, with loosely enforced rules discouraging overt murder or theft—unless sanctioned. Operated by an ever-changing cadre of ex-sailors and lowborn cutthroats, it is tacitly protected by certain corrupt members of the Flaming Fist, who find it useful for both intelligence and indulgence. Those looking to disappear—or make someone else disappear—often start here.

The Blushing Mermaid squats like a barnacled hulk on the edge of the harbor mist, its soot-dark timbers crooked with age and mystery. The air is thick with pipe smoke, stale beer, and the salt-sting of the sea. Its warped doors creak open to reveal a cacophony of clinking tankards, shouting sailors, and music played with more volume than talent. The central common room is a riot of stained tables, dangling netting, and ill-lit corners where shadows cling like drunks to a tankard. Over the chipped bar hangs the infamous namesake statue—a grotesque wooden mermaid grinning madly through the dozen blackened hands nailed to her flanks. Foul murals peel from the walls, depicting bawdy nautical scenes and past patrons meeting grisly ends. The floors groan underfoot, and narrow, uneven staircases lead to twisted upper rooms and murky basements where darker business is done. The whole place thrums with danger, laughter, and barely-contained violence.