Varen Crost is the kind of man mothers warn their children about, and employers pay handsomely to acquire. A former mercenary turned artifact acquisitions specialist, Crost has built a reputation across the Four Fiefdoms as someone who can obtain anything for the right price—and who lets nothing stand between him and the completion of a contract. He is cold, professional, and utterly without moral constraint. Those who have worked with him respect his competence. Those who have crossed him rarely live long enough to regret it. And those who see the thick rope scar across his throat know better than to ask how he got it.

Physical Description

Crost is a man in his mid-forties whose body tells the story of a life spent in violence. He is lean and hard, weathered like old leather left too long in the sun, with not an ounce of softness anywhere on his frame. Every muscle serves a purpose; every movement is economical and precise. He carries himself with the coiled readiness of someone who expects trouble and welcomes it when it comes.

His dark hair has begun to gray, streaked with silver at the temples and throughout, kept cropped short in a practical military cut that requires no maintenance and offers no handhold in a fight. His face is angular and weathered, marked by old scars that have faded to pale lines against tanned skin. His eyes are pale gray, cold and assessing, the eyes of a man who evaluates everyone he meets as either a potential asset, a potential obstacle, or irrelevant.

His most distinctive feature is impossible to miss: a thick, ropy scar that circles his throat, the unmistakable mark of a hanging survived. The scar tissue is raised and pale, standing out against his weathered skin, a permanent reminder of the day someone tried to kill him and failed. Crost makes no effort to hide it. Let people see it. Let them wonder. Let them understand what kind of man survives a hanging and walks away.

When dressed for business among Alchester's elite, Crost cleans up well—impeccable tailoring, nothing ostentatious, the image of a successful merchant or minor noble. But even in fine clothes, something about him suggests the killer beneath. The economy of his movements, the way his eyes never stop scanning a room, the positioning of his body that always keeps exits in sight, and threats at optimal distance. Those who know what to look for recognize him immediately. Those who don't learn quickly enough.

The Mavens

Varen Crost learned his trade in Madilyn's Mavens, the elite mercenary company led by the legendary "Mad Madilyn" Oakthorn. Under her command, he became one of the company's most effective operatives, specializing in missions that required more than simple soldiering: infiltration, asset extraction, and the elimination of protected targets. He learned to think tactically, to plan three moves ahead, and to execute with precision, leaving no room for error.

The Mavens shaped Crost into a weapon, but they also instilled in him something he would later discard: a code. Madilyn ran her company with standards, tempering boldness with caution after the disaster at Kulane, demanding that her soldiers be more than simple killers. For a time, Crost followed that code. He respected Madilyn, learned from her leadership, and served the company with something approaching loyalty.

But Crost was ambitious, and the Mavens' careful approach to contracts began to chafe. He saw opportunities the company passed on, money left on the table because a job was too dirty or a client too questionable. When he finally left, it was on decent terms—Madilyn understood that some soldiers outgrew their companies, and Crost had given good service. They parted as professionals who might work together again someday.

What happened next nearly killed him.

The Hanging

After leaving the Mavens, Crost fell in with another mercenary company—a rougher outfit with fewer scruples and more appetite for the kinds of jobs Madilyn wouldn't touch. The money was better, the work was dirtier, and Crost told himself he didn't mind. He was building something, accumulating the capital and contacts he would need to strike out on his own.

The betrayal came without warning. A dispute over spoils, a grudge Crost hadn't known existed, or perhaps simply the recognition that he was becoming too successful, too dangerous to the company's internal politics. The details matter less than the outcome: Crost woke with a noose around his neck and enemies holding the rope.

They hanged him from a tree outside the camp and left him to die.

He didn't die.

The rope was old, or the branch was weak, or fate simply wasn't finished with Varen Crost. Something gave way before his neck did, and he fell, half-strangled and barely conscious, to the ground below. He lay there through the night, unable to move, unable to call for help, breathing in ragged gasps through a throat that felt like it had been crushed.

Madilyn found him. Word had reached her somehow—perhaps a Maven who still kept tabs on their former comrade, perhaps a simple coincidence. She brought him back from the edge of death, saw to his recovery, and asked no questions about what he intended to do next. She already knew.

Crost tracked down the man who had ordered the hanging. The details of what followed are not widely known, but the results are: the man died badly, and Crost made certain he knew who was killing him and why. The rope scar around Crost's throat was matched by a similar scar around his betrayer's—only Crost's victim didn't survive his hanging.

The experience burned away whatever remnants of the Mavens' code still lingered in Crost's soul. Loyalty was a weakness. Trust was a weapon others used against you. The only reliable constants were competence and self-interest. From that day forward, Varen Crost worked for no one but himself—and anyone willing to pay his price.

Acquisitions Specialist

Crost reinvented himself as an artifact acquisitions specialist, a polite term for someone who obtains rare and dangerous items through whatever means necessary. His mercenary skills translated perfectly to this new profession: the same talents that let him infiltrate enemy strongholds now let him penetrate private collections; the same tactical brilliance that planned military operations now orchestrated complex heists; the same cold professionalism that executed protected targets now eliminated anyone who stood between him and his objectives.

His client list grew to include wealthy collectors, noble houses with enemies they wanted embarrassed, and—most lucratively—the Sorcerer's League. The League's interest in rare artifacts was insatiable, and they paid premium rates for reliable acquisition of items they could not obtain through legitimate channels. Crost became one of their preferred contractors, his reputation for success and discretion making him invaluable for sensitive operations.

He maintains contacts across the Four Fiefdoms and beyond, a network of informants, fences, and specialists who provide intelligence, handle logistics, and occasionally get their hands dirty when Crost needs additional manpower. He operates with professional detachment, treating each job as a problem to be solved rather than a moral question to be considered. The nature of the artifact, the identity of the client, the fate of anyone who gets in the way—none of it matters beyond its impact on the successful completion of the contract.

Combat and Equipment

Varen Crost is an expert in close-quarters combat, particularly with blades. His fighting style reflects his mercenary training—precise, efficient, and utterly without honor. He fights to win, exploiting every advantage and creating openings where none exist. He thinks three moves ahead, anticipating his opponent's responses and positioning himself to counter them before they happen.

His equipment reflects years of accumulated advantage. His primary weapon is a blade of exceptional quality, enchanted to never dull regardless of use or abuse. Light armor woven with protective wards lies beneath his clothing, offering defense without sacrificing mobility. These enchantments are not flashy or ostentatious—Crost has no interest in impressive displays. They are practical tools that give him edges his opponents don't expect.

He has survived ambushes, betrayals, and at least one execution attempt. Each experience has taught him something, added another layer to his tactical awareness, another contingency to his planning. He assumes every situation contains hidden dangers and prepares accordingly. This paranoia has kept him alive when others would have died.

Yet for all his skill, Crost fights like a soldier—with precision and discipline honed through years of military training. This approach has served him well against other soldiers, mercenaries, and common criminals. It has not prepared him to face an assassin fighting at full intent, someone trained not in the structured violence of warfare but in the pure art of killing.

FIRST APPEARANCE

Varen Crost first appears in The Assassin's Ruse.