The Gazers are wretched, diminutive reflections of the Beholder, born from the lunatic nightmares of their creators. They bear only minor resemblance to their terrible progenitors, possessing but four slender eyestalks where the Beholder boasts ten, and their floating, spherical bodies span a mere eight inches (20 centimeters).

These lesser dream-spawn trail their creators like aggressively loyal imps, ceaselessly patrolling the deep, shadowed corners of the lair for creatures they might eradicate. They hold no malice toward their own kind, exhibiting a surprising capacity for coordinated malice. Yet, let no mortal attempt to subdue them; the Gazer cannot be tamed, and any bold fool who reaches out to touch one is violently flung aside. They are relentless bullies, taking perverse pleasure in harassing and preying upon any beast or unfortunate spirit they deem weaker.

When cast out or separated from their masters, the Wild Gazers become petty, territorial scourges. They claim patches of the wilderness, hunting small, fleeting prey within their borders. Should a larger, more formidable creature trespass, the Gazers will incessantly pester and bedevil it with aerial skirmishes until it retreats, though they will invariably scatter if truly confronted. Woe betide the traveler who encounters a pack working in concert, for on these rare occasions, their combined, focused fury makes them a danger far exceeding their meager size.