Context: The gods of Zetacron are physically present in the world. You can go and meet them if you like. Additionally, they are very human, with flaws and quirks—possibly more than regular people.
He's a non-descript man, with his pushcart. On it he sells nothing more exotic than jars of sun-dried tomatoes in oil and pickled vegetables. But he's always out there, in the courtyard of the great Guild of Wizards, in most weathers, and he'll have a kind word for you, and a jar.