Red Hand of Thauzuno

The Red Hand of Thauzuno is a guild of professional assassins which possesses considerable influence and power with select syndicates, and who carry out assassination contracts. More than a simple murder-for-hire collective, they operate as a shadow institution woven into the fabric of Thauzuno’s megacities, whispering at the edges of both fear and necessity. The Red Hand is called upon by those who wish to utilize their deadly services through selective dead drops, often hidden in unassuming corners of city slums and marked only by faint, carefully designed neon glyphs—patterns that appear meaningless to the untrained eye but serve as unmistakable signals. These symbols are frequently layered beneath graffiti, reflections, or flickering advertisements, ensuring plausible deniability. Though the greater Vey’Zari population is unaware of the exact nature of these activities, rumors persist in alley markets of their unseen presence, reinforcing their reputation as both myth and menace.   As the etymology of the term assassin, their traditional methods have revolved around stealth operations, selective violence, and the assassination of those deemed to be perpetrators of oppression under the belief that this minimizes collateral damage in accordance with their absolute prohibition against harming innocent lives. This ethic—both practical and ideological—sets them apart from indiscriminate enforcers and syndicate thugs, aligning their violence with a grim moral calculus that has given them an air of legitimacy among certain syndicates. The Red Hand is governed by The Five Tenets, a codified doctrine etched into the guild’s identity, which sets the ground rules for the organization and are upheld without question. These Tenets are treated with near-religious reverence, their violation unthinkable and punishable by the same finality the guild deals out to its targets. The combination of ritual, secrecy, and ironclad discipline ensures their survival across generations, while their reputation thrives on precision, inevitability, and the chilling certainty that once marked, no one escapes the Hand’s grasp.

The mission of the Red Hand of Thauzuno is steeped in ritual, secrecy, and devotion to the Dread Father, who is venerated as both progenitor and eternal master of the guild. Members do not perceive themselves as common killers for profit, but as consecrated instruments of a higher covenant, chosen to fulfill the blood-bound will of their patron. Every contract accepted is framed as a sacrament, every assassination as a prayer answered through blade and silence. This transforms their work from transactional violence into an act of sacred fulfillment, a duty carried out not simply for coin, but to nourish the bond between guild and Father. To strike down a marked soul is to offer it directly to Him, ensuring that their covenant is honored and their legacy preserved. Through this ritualization of death, the Red Hand’s mission becomes self-perpetuating: to kill is to worship, to worship is to obey, and to obey is to remain within the protection of the Hand.   The mission also serves to weave fear into the very architecture of Thauzuno’s sprawling underworld. Each contract fulfilled reinforces the belief that the Red Hand is omnipresent, watching from alley shadows, sanctums, and derelict spires. Their killings are carefully chosen not merely to eliminate but to terrify, leaving behind symbols and whispers that remind all who see them that the Dread Father’s reach is absolute. To the outside world, they appear as a cult woven into syndicate life, existing not for open conquest but for silent influence. In truth, this perception is cultivated deliberately, for fear is the guild’s greatest currency, ensuring both survival and demand. Every assassination becomes not just an end, but a message—a warning carried in silence—that the Hand moves according to will unseen, inevitable and inescapable.   At its deepest level, the mission is obedience. The Five Tenets are not suggestions or guidelines, but commandments etched into the very existence of the Red Hand, violations of which are punished by the same merciless finality that befalls their targets. Their devotion is cyclical: the Hand kills because the Dread Father demands it, the Dread Father is revered because the Hand kills in His name. Through this closed loop of fear, obedience, and blood, the guild preserves its structure and perpetuates its influence across generations. In this way, the Red Hand of Thauzuno mirrors a paradox—both criminal enterprise and sacred order—its mission sustained by the certainty that as long as there are whispers of betrayal, ambition, or vengeance in the streets, there will be contracts written in blood, and the Hand will rise to claim them.

The Red Hand of Thauzuno is organized in a strict hierarchy that mirrors both a cult and a covert military order. At its peak sits the Right Hand of the Dread Father, the supreme leader who is believed to carry the direct will of the guild’s founder. Beneath this figure operates the Council of the Dread Father, a shadowy body of senior assassins who oversee regional sanctums, manage contract distribution, and enforce adherence to the Five Tenets. Each sanctum, hidden within derelict spires, abandoned transit hubs, or forgotten sublevels of Thauzuno’s megacities, functions as a self-contained cell. This structure ensures compartmentalization—if one sanctum is uncovered or compromised, the others continue undisturbed, allowing the guild to endure even under intense syndicate crackdowns. Leadership is not elected but earned through ritualized killings and blood-oaths, making advancement as much a matter of obedience and fear as skill.   Rank-and-file members are referred to as Brothers and Sisters of the Hand, sworn assassins who carry out contracts as both sacrament and duty. They are supported by layers of apprentices, informants, and peripheral operatives, many of whom never know the full breadth of the guild’s structure. Apprentices undergo years of indoctrination in secluded sanctums where silence, stealth, and ritual discipline are drilled into them until their old identities are erased. Informants, often desperate slum-dwellers or compromised syndicate operatives, serve as the eyes and ears of the Hand in the underworld. This network gives the Red Hand reach far beyond its numbers, ensuring that rumors of betrayal or weakness are swiftly reported and acted upon. Those within the guild rarely see themselves as individuals, but as extensions of a single body—the Hand—that exists to carry out the will of the Dread Father without hesitation.   Operations are deliberately decentralized, allowing the Red Hand to embed itself within the criminal and political machinery of Thauzuno without appearing as a single target. Contracts are filtered down through intermediaries, sanctums, and ritualized communication methods such as marked glyphs or coded phrases in market exchanges. This system creates layers of deniability, protecting the leadership while instilling fear in clients and enemies alike. Punishments for disobedience or failure are absolute—death at the hand of one’s own brothers or sisters—reinforcing discipline and silencing dissent. In practice, this organization transforms the guild into a living myth: a faceless collective where individuals vanish into the role of assassin, and where the only certainty is that the Hand always obeys, always strikes, and always endures. Through this design, the Red Hand sustains itself as both a feared guild and a twisted religious order, wielding terror as effectively as the blade.

The Red Hand of Thauzuno is feared primarily for its unmatched ability to carry out targeted killings with absolute precision. Members are rigorously trained to master stealth, infiltration, and the use of concealed weaponry, allowing them to eliminate their marks without detection even in the most heavily guarded districts of Thauzuno’s megacities. Contracts are executed with surgical accuracy: a strike to the throat in a crowded market, poison slipped into a drink at a syndicate feast, or a sudden disappearance from the alleys of the sprawl. This efficiency has earned the Red Hand an enduring reputation for inevitability—once marked by the guild, escape is virtually impossible. Such precision has made them a tool of choice for syndicates seeking to quietly remove rivals without attracting open conflict or political backlash.   Beyond their skills in assassination, the Red Hand’s capabilities extend into psychological warfare and influence. Every kill is staged with calculated intention: corpses arranged, glyphs left in blood or neon paint, or subtle signs planted to signal the involvement of the Dread Father’s servants. These macabre displays are designed not only to terrify targets but to send a message across the underworld, reinforcing the idea that the Hand is omnipresent. Through rumor, ritual, and carefully cultivated fear, the guild ensures its influence spreads further than its blades. Criminal syndicates and mercenary groups alike view the Hand as both executioners and arbiters, knowing that crossing them invites a silent death. Their killings function as theater of terror, leaving whole districts subdued under the weight of paranoia.   The organization also demonstrates advanced capabilities in intelligence gathering and clandestine coordination. Networks of informants, many of them unwilling or compromised, provide the Hand with access to information about syndicates, political movements, and even street-level disputes. This intelligence is used not only to plan efficient strikes but also to manipulate power balances in Thauzuno’s criminal underworld. By selectively eliminating key figures, the Red Hand engineers chaos or stability depending on its current contracts and interests. Their reach into both the physical and psychological dimensions of power makes them more than hired killers: they are an institution embedded within the city’s underworld, a shadow guild whose capacity for violence and fear grants them the ability to shape outcomes in ways that extend well beyond the blade.

Murder someone! This is the only way to draw the Red Hand’s gaze. It is not enough to lash out in anger or to strike down a rival in a drunken rage—such things are common and meaningless in the sprawl. What the Hand seeks is the act of murder carried out with intent, precision, and silence, the kind of killing that suggests the hand of a natural assassin rather than a common brute. To those who meet this grim threshold, the next stage begins. Whispers carry through the alleys that “the killing has been observed,” though no one can say by whom. The killer may see strange signs afterward—a glyph painted where no one should have reached, a blood-mark on their door, or a coin placed on their bed while they slept. These are not accidents but invitations, a signal that the Hand has seen, and now the Hand is waiting.   Once marked, the potential recruit finds that the Hand draws closer with each night. If they sleep in a safe place—a locked room, a hidden corner of the city, or even the squalor of an abandoned tunnel—they may wake not alone. The first sign is a chill in the air, the sensation that the shadows themselves breathe. Then comes the visitor: a masked emissary of the Red Hand seated silently at the foot of the bed or in the corner of the room. They do not knock, and no door was ever heard opening; they are simply there, waiting. This emissary, called a Watcher, speaks little but delivers the choice with terrifying calm. The candidate has been seen, their act judged sufficient, and now they may join the Red Hand by proving themselves. Refusal is pointless, for those who decline the invitation rarely survive the following nights. The Hand has no tolerance for wasted opportunity, and anyone who bears its mark but rejects its call is silenced before they can spread rumor or doubt. Acceptance, on the other hand, begins a transformation from murderer to consecrated assassin.   The proof demanded of the candidate is known as the First Offering. They are tasked with carrying out a contract sanctioned by the Hand, usually the death of a minor figure whose removal benefits a local syndicate or resolves an internal vendetta. This test is both practical and ritual, carried out under the unseen eyes of the Hand’s Brothers and Sisters, who measure every action. The candidate must kill with silence, leave the appropriate symbol—a glyph daubed in blood or neon—and vanish without a trace. Success marks them ready for the next step. They are taken, blindfolded, into a sanctum where they are stripped of name and identity. In this place, their past life ends. They are bound by blood-oath before an altar to the Dread Father, where senior assassins instruct them to renounce everything they were and swear eternal service. From that night forward, they are not individuals but instruments of the Hand, consecrated in murder and bound by the Five Tenets. Recruitment into the Red Hand is not a joining, but a rebirth: a ritualized death of the self, replaced by a life of obedience, secrecy, and sanctified killing.