Varis has the typical lithe frame of an elf but his skin is the deep blue of the twilight ocean, textured with faint, iridescent scales. His hair is a thick mass of dark, wet-looking kelp, usually tied back with a piece of fishing line. He wears sea-green scale mail that has been purposefully oxidized, and a heavy naval cloak that perpetually drips with salt water. His eyes are a pale, milky white, lacking pupils, resembling the eyes of a deep-sea fish.

Varis is as mercurial as the storms he worships. He can be jovially loud and boastful one moment, then cold and silent the next. He finds peace in chaos and is often seen laughing during the most dangerous gale. He has little patience for landlubbers or those who fear the depths, believing that everyone must eventually answer to the sea. Despite his rough exterior, he is fiercely loyal to the crew of the Drowned Anchor, viewing them as brothers in salt.

Varis was once a high priest of an underwater enclave, but he found their rituals too stagnant for the ever-changing tides. He abandoned his station when he witnessed a massive shipwreck settle into a trench. While scavengers fled, Varis saw the beauty in the destruction. He followed the survivors back to the surface and encountered the crew of the Drowned Anchor. Instead of smiting the pirates, he recognized their captain as a soul touched by the same tempest that fueled his own divinity. Varis joined the crew as their storm-caller and healer, ensuring the sea claims only those he deems unworthy. He believes the Drowned Anchor is a vessel of divine judgement, and he serves as the storm that drives it. He has spent the last decade aboard the ship, carving lightning runes into the hull and teaching the crew how to read the clouds.