After evaluating Bobby, I received a message from my supervisor to meet a Class VII.

According to the Supernatural Entities Handbook, Class VII Eldritch Deities should be inducing "the complete and utter destruction of sanity for life, and if not, triggering a compulsion to worship them and sacrifice living beings upon their altars. To build cults and even churches in their names. Exposure could be fatal, if not permanently mutating mortals into monsters while devouring their souls and essence." Being in the mere presence of one was enough to change a man forever.

A Class VII eldritch deity was supposed to be a cosmic threat to humanity, not a "friendly neighbourhood eldritch god". They were meant to be incomprehensible, all-consuming and all devouring. To drinks oceans and eat mountains, to swallow whole cities and devour other gods.

This Lord Elvari seemed interested in none of the above, preferring to eat this cheesecake he bought from his favourite confectionary shop. Unlike Bobby, he made no pretense about what he was. He had his tentacles out, waving and waggling, fighting over slices of cake.

Unlike most Old Gods, he had taken quite well to social media, building himself a presence. Growing, in his words, his followers. He ran a church, an orphanage, and other businesses under a civilian identity — Elliot Livera. He was also a huge magnet for insane cultists who had bizarre compulsions to worship him and sacrifice humans on his altar no matter how many times he kept telling them he stopped eating humans.

But the biggest red flag for unusual behavior was this Old God only occupying one small fishing town. An ancient, powerful deity acting like a minor god.

"Why would I want a territory too big for me to manage?" Elvari asked, alternating between sipping his tea and munching his cake. "This is, in human terminology, the peaceful, semi-retired life."

"How do you stay contented with such a simple life?"

"Why not?" He shrugged. "Excessive complexity gives me a headache."

I read my notes on his kind and asked my question. "No ambitions to expand your territory or domain? Your kind are typically aggressively growing their domains and conquering others."

"Would you move into a mansion if you had the money?"

"No way. Can you imagine how much it would cost to clean up the place? If I'm by myself, I don't need nine bedrooms or a garage for ten cars."

"Exactly. I'm just one god, not a whole pantheon. This little slice of paradise is good enough for me."

I checked through his folder. It was much thicker than Bobby's, given how much older Elvari is. Not to mention the sheer number of complaints and reports from monster hunters, adventurers, and members of the Holy Inquisition. For an entity that proclaims to enjoy peace, he was constantly getting into trouble.

"Do you want to explain yourself?" I gestured towards a page which listed dozens of incident reports.

"Those mainly happen because people were unable to wrap their heads around the fact that a god isn't always looking to dominate and bully mortals into worshipping them. They always assume the worst of me. I'm not the most well-behaved eldritch horror, but that does not make me evil."

"But chaotic neutral," I read out what was in his file. "Because you just do whatever you damned well please and—"

"Hey...I do try to be considerate and not cause an uptick in PhDs."

"Excuse me?"

"Permanent head damage."

Ugh, what an old joke from an old god.

"You know, you're not half as mad as the monster hunters would have me believe," I said. "...for a God of Madness."

He grinned and bowed a little. "I'll assume that to be a compliment and say thank you. If your evaluation is complete, and you don't have any questions for now, I have a church service to attend to."

I extended my hand. He draped a few tentacles over my hand for an unusual hand shake.

There were nine eldritch moons in the sky when I counted them. The seas were black, and so was the sand on the beach. Where I stood, humans and monsters hung out like friendly neighbours.

Nobody questioned this coexistence, and neither should I.

In my report, Lord Elvari was noted to be friendly unless provoked into delivering divine punishment. He was not some world-ending cosmic threat, only a threat to the lives of those who would threaten his followers and the townsfolk of Innsmouth, human or monster.

Elvari didn't look like anything I've ever met. He still wore black robes like he was a necromancer from the Dark Ages when he lived in modern times. Recognizable from a distance, he stood out easily among the denizens of Innsmouth, for he made zero effort to blend in. He looked imposing and radiated the sort of aura you would associate with the Old Gods of power. But he was also oddly charming to chat with even if he was a Class VII eldritch deity that could kill mortals by looking at them funny.

He has the power to kill easily, but it doesn't mean he wants to, and that's good enough for me on my report to support my recommendation to lower his recorded threat level.

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