A dragon lying across approximately twelve generations of accumulated regional wealth has warned that proposals for a modest tax on extreme fortunes are “simplistic, punitive, and unlikely to achieve their stated objectives,” while resting one claw on a jewelled chalice containing the annual budget of a mid-sized duchy.
Gharomir the Unassessable, an ancient fire-breathing asset holder with significant positions in gold, land, jewels, disputed inheritance, enchanted securities, and historic fear, made the remarks at the Fiscal Responsibility Summit, held this year in his cave for reasons no one from the Treasury was willing to describe as “captivity.”
“Wealth taxes don’t work,” said Gharomir, addressing journalists from behind a lectern positioned between two collapsed monarchies and a large pile of coins that appeared to be warm. “They sound attractive to people who do not understand wealth creation, asset mobility, valuation complexity, or the importance of not upsetting the dragon.”
The dragon, whose personal fortune is estimated at somewhere between “vast” and “please stop asking,” said the public debate around wealth had become dangerously emotional.
“People see a dragon on a pile of treasure and immediately assume there is something unreasonable going on,” he said. “But that is exactly the sort of politics of envy that discourages enterprise. One minute you are peacefully reclining on several thousand gold ingots and a crown taken from a drowned king, the next minute someone with a clipboard wants to know whether any of it has been declared.”
Gharomir denied being opposed to taxation in principle, noting that he strongly supported taxes paid by villagers, merchants, widows, stable boys, innkeepers, millers, and anyone technically on fire.
“What concerns me,” he said, “is bad taxation.”
Asked to define bad taxation, he paused, adjusted his wing over a crate of emeralds, and said, “Taxation that affects me.”
According to Gharomir, the central problem with a wealth tax is that it would be difficult to value complex assets. His own holdings include gold, jewels, historic weapons, tapestries, ancient coins, several cursed rubies, 43 minor principalities, a controlling interest in smoke, and a sentimental quantity of bones.
“You cannot simply look at a dragon’s hoard and say, ‘that is wealth,’” he explained. “Some of these goblets are illiquid. Some of the crowns are decorative. Some of the gold is held for operational reasons. Some of the rubies are family rubies. A number of the skeletons are, frankly, none of your business.”
He added that much of his treasure was “not income-generating” and therefore should not be treated as available to contribute toward schools, hospitals, roads, or bridges, especially bridges, which he described as “structurally provocative.”
The Institute for Competitive Hoarding, a policy organisation funded by several anonymous cave-dwelling donors, supported the dragon’s intervention. In a briefing note released shortly before the summit, the institute warned that wealth taxes “rarely achieve their goals” and “risk driving mobile capital overseas, underground, or into a nearby mountain protected by flame.”
“Dragons are highly sensitive to anti-growth rhetoric,” the report said. “If policymakers create an environment where successful treasure accumulation is punished, many high-net-worth reptiles may simply relocate their hoards to friendlier jurisdictions, such as Switzerland, the Channel Islands, or a volcano with no extradition treaty.”
Gharomir said he had no current plans to move his wealth abroad, but confirmed that he had received “very constructive” advice from several accountants, three lawyers, a private bank, and a wizard who communicates exclusively through shell companies.
“I love this kingdom,” he said. “I have extracted from it for centuries. My roots here are deep, particularly under the old silver mines. But there comes a point when a dragon must ask whether he is still welcome.”
The dragon also rejected suggestions that his fortune was unearned, pointing out that hoarding treasure required discipline, sacrifice, and the ability to incinerate anyone who approached the entrance.
“There is this lazy idea that I simply sit here,” he said. “But people do not see the work behind the scenes. The vigilance. The guarding. The sleeping with one eye open. The constant effort of ensuring that no productive use is made of anything within 400 yards.”
He said critics failed to understand the broader economic ecosystem created by his wealth.
“I provide jobs,” said Gharomir. “There are goblins cataloguing the bullion. There are men polishing the armour of people I ate. There is a whole local industry in warning signs. Without this hoard, where would those people be?”
Asked whether they might be building homes, running farms, trading goods, or otherwise participating in a functioning economy, the dragon narrowed his eyes and caused one of the microphones to melt.
Several summit delegates praised Gharomir’s “nuanced contribution” to the debate. Lord Fenwick Ashdown, chair of the Commission on Sensible Prosperity and owner of four non-domestic castles, said the dragon had helped move the conversation away from “crude moralism” and toward “serious questions about implementation.”
“It is very easy to say: there is a dragon, the dragon has all the treasure, maybe some treasure should be used to improve the kingdom,” said Ashdown. “But public policy is more complicated than that. One has to consider behavioural effects, administrative burden, and whether the dragon might become cross.”
Ashdown said the wealthy already contributed in many non-financial ways, including philanthropy, cultural leadership, long-term investment, and allowing ordinary people to occasionally glimpse the treasure from a safe distance.
“You cannot put a price on aspiration,” he said.
A spokesperson for the Treasury confirmed that ministers were studying the dragon’s concerns carefully and had no desire to introduce measures that would “accidentally damage confidence among large predatory asset owners.”
“We are committed to a fair tax system,” the spokesperson said, “which is why we are listening closely to all stakeholders, including workers, businesses, families, dragons, dynastic hoarders, and entities whose net worth is currently described in ballads.”
The spokesperson denied that policymakers were intimidated by Gharomir, adding that the Treasury remained “fully independent” and “not in any way influenced by the dragon’s recent decision to perch on the roof during committee hearings.”
Opponents of wealth taxation argue that such policies can encourage avoidance, raise less revenue than expected, and create administrative complexity. Supporters argue that these problems are often most severe when policy is deliberately weakened, enforcement is underfunded, and the people being taxed are given several years’ notice, fourteen exemptions, and a personal concierge service called the private client division.
Gharomir said this was exactly the kind of divisive rhetoric that made constructive debate impossible.
“I am tired of being portrayed as some kind of villain merely because I occupy a cave full of wealth while nearby villagers cannot afford roofs,” he said. “The real issue here is growth. If the villagers had more growth, perhaps they too could acquire a modest pile of treasure, a fortified cavern, and a generational terror apparatus.”
Asked how villagers might realistically achieve this, the dragon said education was vital.
“Financial literacy,” he said. “People need to understand compound interest, asset allocation, and the importance of being born from an egg the size of a cart.”
The summit’s afternoon panel, Unlocking Inclusive Prosperity Without Touching Any Of The Proper Money, explored alternative approaches to inequality, including voluntary giving, entrepreneurial mindset training, and asking the poor to become more resilient near treasure.
One panellist proposed a “national conversation” about opportunity. Another suggested improving social mobility by encouraging children from disadvantaged backgrounds to network with better-connected dragons. A third argued that the real barrier to wealth creation was not ownership concentration but “negativity.”
By late afternoon, Gharomir had softened his position slightly, saying he would consider supporting a wealth tax if it applied only to “new treasure,” excluded “historic treasure,” exempted “productive treasure,” ignored “family treasure,” allowed deductions for cave maintenance, and was payable in smoke.
“That would be a serious policy,” he said. “I am not unreasonable.”
He then announced a new philanthropic initiative to help low-income villagers develop “treasure-adjacent skills,” beginning with a six-week course on polishing coins they would never own.
The programme will be administered by the Gharomir Foundation, whose trustees include the dragon, the dragon’s eldest son, two accountants, and a portrait of the dragon looking public-spirited.
As the summit concluded, attendees were given gift bags containing embossed notebooks, a report on competitiveness, and a small commemorative coin technically still owned by Gharomir.
The dragon ended his remarks by warning that any serious attempt to tax concentrated wealth would send a dangerous signal.
“To the young dragons watching today,” he said, “what message are we sending? That you can work hard, burn villages, accumulate treasure for 900 years, and then suddenly society expects something back?”
He shook his head.
“That is not the kingdom I grew up extracting.”