Svarden the Self-Appointed Imperial Tax Collector and Rebbel Hunter, Imperial War Master

Role

Chapter 10

When the Justiciar slew his centurion upon the Eastern Road, Svarden's
first reaction was incredulity. How did he have the nerve? Then it was
anger, that passion most swiftly roused and began furiously scribbling a
missive to be delivered with all haste to the Tribunal.

But then he saw an opportunity.

For a long time, Svarden had had it in the back of his head that the
current insurrection likely wouldn't last. The savages in the east would
break eventually, as all uncivilised armies do. He'd remembered well the
lessons of his youth, and had been intending to make the battleragers into
the next great enemy. A rebbel force not particularly formidable and in
fact tolerated at present, but one which could easily be spun to become a
rising hotbed of chaos and criminal filth. Yes. Svarden did not really need
another rebbel group lined up for the moment, so the Spire would not serve
in that capacity.

After all, there were far better ways to deal with the problem he'd
identified with the Spire: that they tended to recruit far too many
prospective imperial citizens, those individuals seeing a life with much of
the benefit and few of the obligations.

Svarden considered the two ways it could go.

One, the Justiciar would make reparations immediately. The whole matter
would be set aside in theory, but a tension would remain. The Empire could
be coaxed into not being quite as tolerant with the Spire, and prospective
oathes may consider there might be merit in picking the correct path after
all. A less destabilising outcome, but one with equally as minor longterm
results.

Two, the Justiciar pushed back hard and refused. Ties would become more
than strained, and open war may even break out if it went that far. That
would be best avoided in the immediate future while the insurrection in the
east was so mighty, though was a tolerable risk if it came to it. A law had
been broken after all, and if war was the answer, then war it would be.

This second option had far greater potential, and knowing the Justiciar as
he did, Svarden believed this would be the way things would go. Depending
on how he framed things, the Justiciar could be cast in a more than
unreasonable light. Those in the Spire might begin to ask themselves: why
would he not just pay? Why had he had to antagonise the Empire? Why had he
made life so hard unnecessarily? He would need to have someone spread the
rumours outside of the Empire and Spire circles - once more, he lamented
the loss of his old on-and-off sort of friend the Shadow Lord - but that
could be arranged.

Svarden tore up his initial draft of a letter. Full of threats and demands,
and wrote a different one.

Yes. Best to seem reasonable, but inflexible. A seeker of the status quo,
but undoubtedly the aggrieved party.

It was time to see how well the Justiciar could serve the Empire's needs.

Role

Chapter 9

The question remained, though.

Who should he vote for?

It was a difficult question, for he could not vote for himself, and was
there any greater candidate? Svarden certainly didn't think so.

Perhaps a more politically minded individual would approach the situation
differently. Would play the field and attempt to secure the votes of others
through backroom deals and betrayals, casting his vote for a candidate no
other would surely vote for. Unfortunately, Svarden at his heart was a
methodical giant, and a soldier. Such machination never really even
occurred to him.

Who was the second best option? Who, if he were not to achieve the throne
this time, could he tolerate as an acceptable lesser alternative?

He thought about that for a while. The Empire needed two things: stability
and strength. He possessed both qualities of course, but what of his
choices.

The Dread Lord he discarded immediately. Were he to have undertaken his
transformation, perhaps that would be different. Indeed, begrudgingly he
admitted one of the walking dead would be quite an excellent candidate, for
they lived long and were mighty even if it was a false and fragile strength
beside that of the blade sect. As it stood though? The Empire could not
abide losing another Emperor so soon,. Coupled with that, as it stood he
was likely the weakest of the council in Svarden's utterly biased and
unobjective opinion, so that was that.

The high priestess. Another divine, and her sect had already failed with
the last appointment. That was no great cause for concern, though. He had
fought along side her often, and she would undoubtedly bring and maintain a
degree of stability. She was a strong soldier, even if it was a different
kind of strength to that which he would favour in one upon the throne.

The Shadow Lord. Once, he would have been inclined to vote for her as his
first choice without hesitation. A formidable warrior, and one not afraid
to take the fight to the insurrection directly. Unfortunately, Svarden had
not seen her since the last time she had fallen in one of the great
campaigns, and he began to worry that he may have been robbed of one of his
best military assets by a fragile fortitude.

It was simple, then. If the Shadow Lord reemerged, he would need to
consider further.

Otherwise?

He only really had one choice.

Role

Chapter 8

Emperor Kobar had been one of the great disappointments of Svarden's life.

When he'd been young and full of intent to take the oath, the knowledge
that a great giant sat upon the throne had been no small source of pride
for him. Was this not right and proper, after all? Was it not the correct
order of things for an exemplar of strength to wear the crown? It had
dulled his enthusiasm slightly to learn the Emperor was a Priest and not a
great warrior, but only slightly. Surely it was to the good that giant's
spread the word of the Dark Lord's of order, and strength was strength,
after all. Yes. He would fight and die for his Emperor against the
insurrection. Giants, disillusioned with Kiadana as he had been would flock
to the Emperor's banner, and all would be as it should be.

Except that hadn't happened.

At first, Svarden made excuses to himself for the Emperor. He justified and
with the rigidity of a belief closely held he tried to force reality to
conform to the image he had held. Perhaps the Emperor was on some great
pilgrimage. Perhaps he was in communion. Perhaps he was recovering from
some great wound suffered in battle.

But in the end, Svarden is a practical giant, and there is only so long he
could lie to himself. He did not know why the Emperor had abandoned his
people, how a giant of the one law could hide from the great war and not
feel abject shame. Yet he had, and the throne sat empty in all but name. A
subject of mockery by the rebbels, where it should be one of fear or at
least wary respect. Worse, one of quiet derision by the Empire's own people,
disharmony in the very heart of the great tapestry which was the Emperor's
foremost charge.

So it was that when the Architect of Order asked whether there was a desire
for a vote, he was unsurprised when his fellows jumped at the opportunity.
All covet the crown, after all, and what was this but an opportunity
offered to seize it?

For a moment, the bitter words rose to the surface. The condemnation and
recriminations against the sitting Emperor. Then Svarden quashed them, for
this would not serve the Empire. As his uncle had taught him so long ago,
reasoned thought is a far sharper sword than anger, and they needed the
sharpest swords they could find in the current campaign.

So he expressed his agreement with the course, and spoke not the Emperor's
name by more than implication.

It was a small final service, dignity in ignominy.

Like the rest of the services rendered, Svarden doubted the soon to be
former Emperor would ever know of it.

Role

Chapter 7

- He strives to be educated and to think before he acts, but its a work in
progress. He's very much wired the way most fire giants are so the
political side of Empire might hit him with some curveballs. Talks a little
better than most fire giants because he's decently well read, plan on
improving that as he continues to grow older.

- No last name. Will not take his father's name until he avenges the debt
of blood (kills Drathgar Nacktin-Rah). That might be a while...

Role

Chapter 6

Summary of chapters:
1. Svarden and his father witness the brutal execution of a paladin who had
slain many of the fire giants on the slopes above Kiadana, including
Svarden's older brother. In a fit of outspokenness brought on by anger and
grief, Svarden's father told his son that a great leader took the war to
others, and never let it come to him. His father was challenged to a duel
and slain by Drathgar Nacktin-Rah for his insult against Kiadana that very
day.

2. Svarden was sent to live with his Uncle in Udgaard by his mother, as she
did not wish him to throw his life away on a foolish attempt to slay
Drathgar Nacktin-Rah in vengeance when he's basically a level one scrub.
Svarden's uncle is an Udgaardian bank guard who sucks at fighting, but is
pretty cunning and well read for a fire giant. He teaches Svarden about the
power of money.

3. Svarden reads much about taxation and military tactics, determined to
not die a 'stupid death being a stupid giant who only thinks with his
fists' as his uncle puts it. He comes to realise that taxation is a
formidable method of control, but does not yet understand why people just
accept it and don't overthrow their leaders (mostly due to the probably
accurate consideration of how fire giants would handle people trying to tax
them).

4. He witnesses Loke's raising of taxes when military action begins in the
mountains with cloud giants, and realises that in wartime a leader can
exercise a far greater degree of control over the hearts and minds of his
people than in peacetime. This is a fundamental revelation for him and
underpins much of what he'll do.

Key concepts:
- Has always wanted to be a great fire giant warrior like his father. More
specifically, desires to be a great general and leader.

- Believes that to truly have a great army that can march on other
territory, it must be well funded and disciplined. You best pay your taxes!
Battles should ideally be fought in other people's lands, not your own,
both for pragmatism and because there is no greater a projection of
strength.

- Believes that having an enemy is an invaluable form of control. When
there is an enemy, people turn outward and not inward, and will tolerate
much more demands (oppression) upon them than they otherwise would. Thus,
will always strive to project there being more enemies than there are
(rebbels everywhere! Everywhere!).

- Sometimes it is worth keeping a weak enemy around and not crushing them
entirely just so you can point to them as a convenient excuse for why
you're doing something people might otherwise disagree with. This is one
thing he'd never say to other people normally though.

- Empire ticks pretty much all his boxes. He will strive for the thrown,
genuinely believing he is meant for greatness and that he'll lead the
Empire into a new age of dominion. Will try to portray himself as a
glorious protector of the loyal masses.

Role

Chapter 5

It was quite a mundane set of circumstances which brought Svarden to his
revelation.

The cloud giants were acting up again. They'd got emboldened by 'some
paladin bastard with stupid pendant' as Svarden's uncle so eloquently
explained to him. It happened every so often, and was nothing to really
worry about. The Udgaardians would kick them around a bit, the cloud giants
would remember why they stayed up in the valleys and mountains and things
would go back to normal with a few more widdows and a lot less limbs.
Svarden thought again about the lesson of his father. That it was a fool
who fought a defensive battle, and found himself agreeing. Udgaard could
push into the mountains and wipe out the giants, and this problem would be
solved.

Then taxes went up.

Svarden was dismayed. He was already pretty poor, and now his uncle was
demanding he help pay these increased taxes! This couldn't stand, surely?
People wouldn't have it. They couldn't hang everyone who didn't pay, there
would be a riot!

Putting aside whether the Udgaardian government would in fact have any
issues hanging as many as were needed to reestablish the flow of taxation,
it didn't happen.

Svarden watched amazed as people actually seemed more keen to pay. They
didn't seem upset at all! When he asked the baker about it, he just
shrugged. "Loke keeps us safe. If his army needs some more money to kill
those bloody savages, don't mind doing my bit."

It was amazing.

It was genius.

It was his answer. Maybe Loke even kept this small enemy nearby just so he
could do this!

He thought back to the sacrifices his people had made in their war. Of how
noone ever complained about them, for they knew what was on the line. About
how Kiadana's iron fist never seemed to falter even when he overstepped.

Everyone hates an enemy. Everyone loved a protector of the people. That was
a bitter truth Svarden knew all to well. If he had to tax them just a
little bit more to keep them safe now and again, if he had his own tax
collectors, so got all of the glory and none of the negatives...

Yes. This was the way. Always have an enemy.

After all, a giant of the One Law must think only of war.

He left Udgaard three days later. Hamsah Mu'tazz beckoned.

Role

Chapter 4

Svarden learned much in the following years. His uncle was not good at much,
but indulging curiosity was his one saving grace. Though he refused to
spend money on his young nephew's new reading habits, he did let him work
some of his quieter shifts in the bank for ten percent of the prophets. It
did add up over time.

Svarden read a lot about money, and about logistics and tactics. Though he
didn't understand a lot of what he read at first, he was determined. If he
were to become the great warrior he knew he must, he would not be a stupid
giant who died a stupid death, and so he would learn.

Slowly, Svarden began to realise something.

His uncle was wrong.

It wasn't really about controlling money. That mattered, definitely. That
was a big part of it. There was a lot of power in money. It opened doors.
An army which seeked to move out beyond its borders required funding. Was
that why Kiadana had let the storm giants come to them? Did they just lack
the funding to initiate a campaign? Perhaps.

The real power though? The real power was in the act of taxation itself. Of
taking the money from those of lower station to fortify those already in
authority. A feed... feed... Svarden frowned. Eatback circle? Something
like that.

Svarden wasn't sure he liked it. You should be able to prove your
superiority with your strength alone. To crush your opposition and keep the
weak beneath you that way. Was that not the giant way? Certainly Kiadana's
way, and Svarden found that telling.

Though, the taxes came from those who had already submitted to your
authority. Perhaps it was both ways? The taxes to keep the kneeling knelt,
the sword to make the standing kneel?

Svarden liked that more, but felt like he was still missing something.
Wouldn't people become discontent? He tried to imagine the giants back home
paying taxes, and frowned. No, that would never work. He was missing
something.

Role

Chapter 3

Svarden had been sent away.

He'd been told that he still had to learn much before he'd be ready to
fight the ancient enemy on the slopes, before he'd be ready to lead giants
into battle and make his father proud. He'd accepted that truth, for it
was a nice half-truth and those are often the easiest to believe.

Of course, he could have learned anything he needed to learn in the depths
of Kiadana. The real reason was much simpler.

He was his mother's last child, and she knew well the folly of youth. She
knew that Svarden would seek vengeance, and she knew how it would end. No
young giant would best Drathgan Nacktin-Rah in single combat, natural
talent or not. No. Better that Svarden leave, and his wrath were allowed to
smoulder far from where it would be a sword to fall upon before he were yet
full grown. For Svarden's mother desired vengeance too, and as much as she
knew no young giant would best her mate's killer she knew another thing too:

Her son had the making of greatness, and he would not be young forever.

So Svarden was sent to live with his uncle in Udgaard. A giant who held a
position esteemed above all others, or so Svarden was told. One where he'd
meet anyone who mattered who passed through Udgaard, and did a job more
important than anyone else.

Svarden's uncle was a guard for the Udgaardian bank, and though perhaps it
had not been his mother's true intention: he did indeed learn much from her
brother, even if it was not to stab things.

At first, Svarden thought little of his uncle. The giant was always talking
about money. Running gold pieces through his thick fingers and waxing on
and on about numbers and taxes and all manner of unimportant things.

It was only when he finally (two days in) put voice to his scorn and
received a sharp cuff about the ear that he learned another lesson that
would never leave him.

"Stupid boy. Man who controls money controls the world. How you think army
runs? Think with brain, not with fists. All giant strong, most giant stupid
too. You want be stupid and die stupid death, stupid boy?"

The very next day, Svarden spent all of his savings on a book. His uncle
was pleased, and taught him to read: and it was a text which changed his
life, even if the process of decoding the strange terms was a matter of
months and not days.

It was called 'the Udgaardian Tax Code'.

Role

Chapter 2

And all debts of blood would be repaid.

Role

Chapter 1

(Summary+rundown in last chapter)

The paladin burned.

Its a messy way to go, burning. There's something inately horrifying about
the spectacle. Svarden supposed that was the point.

The warriors had him over a pit of lava, lowering the storm giant bit by
bit into it. The paladin had boldly claimed he wouldn't scream for them.

He'd been wrong. Sizzle sizzle, scream. Sizzle sizzle, scream. Sizzle
sizzle...

Svarden's father was standing next to him, hand on his shoulder. This
paladin had killed many on the slopes above, and one had been Svarden's
older brother. It was right they be there until the end. It was right they
watch the life drain out of the slayer of their blood. His burned and
broken remains would be dragged to the cliffs and strung up for all to see,
and serve as an object lesson there too. This is what awaits.

Cruelty. Brutality. No mercy. All debts of blood repaid twice over. The
fundamentals of the way of those like his father.

Sizzle sizzle. No scream.

Ah. It was done. Groans and gold pieces were passed around. The concensus
seemed to be that the paladin would've lasted a little longer, and one
particularly loud spectator felt he'd been lowered too quickly.

The disagreement swiftly degenerated into a brawl, but Svarden gave it
little mind as he looked at the blackened remains of the paladin.

"What have you learned?"

Svarden looked up at his father, that giant he idolised above all others.
That mountain of power and indomitable spirit, who he wanted so much to be
like. He only thought for a moment before responding.

\"Price of defeat.\"

His father squeezed his shoulder, face unsmiling, but Svarden could tell he
approved.

Then his father shook his huge head.

"No. This is price of war."

Svarden sucked in a gasp. That was no thing for a giant of the One Law to
put to voice. Even young as he was, he knew one of the Lord's elite
warriors would not take kindly to such, and there were many in hearing
range. But his father wasn't done.

"This is what happen when let war come to you, son. This is why when one
day, when you great leader of giants, stronger than me and stronger than
rest, you remember what weak leadership look like. You remember this." His
father bent down low to speak to him and to him alone. "If there be war,
start war. Make men bleed on their land. Make their people go hungry. Make
their children die young. Never wait for war to come to you." He paused,
then spoke one final time before they departed.

"A giant of the One Law must think only of war."

It was the last lesson his father would ever teach him, for Drathgan
Nacktin-Rah demanded a duel for the insult upon Lord Kiadana's leadership
the very same evening.

Svarden's father was skilled.

But there was skilled, then there was Drathgan Nacktin-Rah.

There would be a reckoning for that one day, because Svarden was a giant
cut of the same cloth as his father.

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