Den of Lost Angels

Luskan was a port city once held in high regard, until after the Spellplague; beyond gang warfare, roving bands of kobolds and goblins, and gross disrepair, there was little reason to wander into the area unless you had a death wish. Or you had no other place to go. There were many men and women, desperate and alone, told by hushed whispers in the darkness to seek out shelter, safety, and a new life in the ravages of Luskan:

"Lost Angel, seek your place
In warm embrace of the den
Lost Angel, lift high your face,
and you will rise again."

What was known about the Den of Lost Angels was naught but rumor and conjecture. Anyone that actually found and entered the Den--and was deemed worthy--would later exit as an "Angel": well-groomed, intelligent, and extremely efficient in all forms of combat. Not unlike the other assassin guilds around Faerun, "Angels" encountered in the wilds of the Sword Coast were generally assumed to be on mission. Any interference would often be met with swift, severe consequences. If you were the mission, the bright signature flash of the Den of Lost Angels' ebony halo-emblazoned chest armor would precede the strike of their blades or arrows, and your next breath would truly be your last.

Unless... the Den owed you a favor.