Its rites, codes, and mysteries unwritten and passed on by word of mouth, its origins lost in the mists of time, its lure impossible to resist: the Order of the Bloody Cuff is like your granny's goulash recipe, but more ghoulish. Each solstice and equinox, its members convene to dine together in a state of nature: without utensils, without napkins, without the stifling formalities of the typical tavern. Menus eschew the insipidity of the vegetable kingdom; cooking is employed only when absolutely necessary; digestion is optional, extreme drunkenness is not. There is a preference for dishes served "lepping fresh". Some chapters are rumoured to employ magic users in the search for artistic dishes never tasted before.

Members are drawn from all socioeconomic classes, but for most of its history were limited to human males; only in the last fifty years has the Order begun admitting women and the odd (particularly odd) halfling. The organisation consists of 13 chapters, each limited to 13 members, only one of whom is in contact with Order's upper echelon. The initiation rite is cloaked in secrecy, but it causes more than half of all initiates to lose consciousness, many of whom retain no memory of what passed their lips or in which direction. Needless to say, the Order is proscribed by most religious and civil institutions, some of whose members are nonetheless also Bloody Cuffers of good standing.