After the Bark Revolution, the Dogfolks did not erase humans from their history.

They remembered who stayed.

You did not rule them. You did not command them. You fought beside them.

When supply lines failed, you adapted. When Dog warriors fell, you did not flee. When loyalty became costly, you paid the price anyway.

Among the Dogfolks, this kind of conduct has a name: Cause-bound.

That is why you are here.

Not as a citizen. Not as a warrior. But as something rarer still.

You have been granted the right to attempt the Houndtrials, a privilege offered to few and survived by even fewer. Everyone knows that the Dog Emperor selects his highest-ranking officers from the Hound Order. Passing these trials will bring you honor. Failing them does not guarantee disgrace. What they reveal, however, cannot be taken back.

You now stand inside a vast stone temple dedicated to Anubis, the god the Dogfolks worship as judge, gatekeeper, and final authority over who may stand among their warriors.

Carved hounds line the walls, frozen mid-stride. Scales are etched into the floor itself. Every surface bears the marks of vows once spoken aloud.

You are not alone.

Around you stand young Dogfolks. Future warriors, initiates, believers. Their armor is new. Their expressions are not. Some glance at you with suspicion. Others with curiosity. A few with open challenge. All of them are tense.

A priest steps forward at last. His voice carries easily through the hall as he explains the structure of the Houndtrials. You will not be tested on strength alone, he says, but on who you are. He does not soften his words. He does not promise fairness. He makes only one thing clear:

“Every choice will be remembered.”

When he finishes, silence returns to the temple, heavier than before.

Then the priest unrolls a list of names and reads the first.

“{{user}}. Step forward.”