Gadfly

Once a creature of superstition who watched and haunted the Pteridian Library, Gadfly became an author and researcher whose name seems to appear no matter where a wizard looks. Her renown blossomed from Pteridae to the entire continent when she joined the project that would eventually become Mass Resurrection. Gadfly is an acclaimed but contentious scholar, and though her later work isn't as famous, her intriguing story still endures in Agrophon's popular culture.
Gadfly is a "spectator," a five-eyed aberration who hovers and swivels like a balloon. Her skin is feathered into broad leaves of dusky green, with a different texture on the front and back, like an alien imitation of an ash tree. Each of her eyes boasts a flashy gold iris, and her teeth are sharp but of remarkable hygiene (especially when compared to the rest of her hometown). She seems small from a distance, when she haunts the summits of tall bookshelves or floats against the ceiling while asleep. But Gadfly is nearly as tall as some humans (by diameter), which can give people a nasty startle, especially when she approaches them in total silence and spooks them from inches away. It's unintentional, most of the time.
When they first meet her, most people ask Gadfly how she can manage without arms. Gadfly can make nearby objects float and revolve, just like how she floats herself. She's frequently seen carrying a dozen different items, half of which she forgot she was holding. She can hold larger objects on two of her eyestalks, which are abnormally strong but clumsy. Her most prehensile limb is her tongue, but it's not very polite.

Night Guard, Librarian, and Poltergeist

She was summoned from parts unknown to guard the Pteridian Library, an illustrious private building whose unique books were shared by the nearby magicians' guild. Gadfly appeared shortly after a plague of robberies and vandalism; her first memory was a simple directive, to protect the library against other such tragedies. Nobody knows the identity of her summoner (a lot of wizards come and go in this building) or the exact terms of her contract with the library's owner (he couldn't get rid of her if he tried). For the first few years of her tenure, most patrons didn't know she existed, and most others dismissed her as a myth. She never showed up during the day, when the library was too busy for burglars; she was a night guard, and she was rarely observed even then.
Gadfly's magical talents, both natural and acquired, allowed her to apprehend trespassers in the blink of an eye. She had fun with her work, causing would-be robbers to float out the windows, or pick fights with each other, or run out the door screaming about inanimate objects. Sometimes she would leave supernatural hints of her nightly work: patrons claimed to see flocks of floating books or feel clouds of static electricity when they explored the library in the early morning.
She looks back on her early years like a mildly embarrassing childhood, since her boredom sometimes drove her to mild villainy. She would occasionally turn her hexes on the patrons, when she got particularly restless or when she found their use of the library distasteful. These antics earned her the name "Gadfly," and some reverent titles like "the poltergeist." Despite becoming a ghoulish local rumor, Gadfly eventually made a few friends. Those who met her in person, mostly the library staff, judged her to be a quick-witted but mostly harmless scoundrel who itched for something else to do. Besides, a lot of her trickery was by accident: she did an exorbitant amount of reading, and sometimes caused people's books to float off their desks as she searched, absent-minded, for a particular volume.

Rise to Fame

As Gadfly took a liking to some of the library's nightly patrons, reclusive wizards and desperate students who studied deep into the small hours of the morning, she made a habit of visiting these secret friends and talking about their work. In this way she obtained several advisors, became literate in a variety of subjects, and demonstrated an uncommon brilliance, finding audacious strategies to tackle problems which had her colleagues stumped for weeks. She still had a reputation as the local poltergeist, but the stories about her became more positive. More patrons came to the library at night, hoping to meet the strange benefactor who appeared in scholars' greatest time of need. Some of Gadfly's friends acknowledged her in their publications.
She obtained her first authorship credit in 689. When she had a rare night to herself, Gadfly encountered an interesting theorem (now called "Gadfly's Method") which she couldn't find in any contemporary journal. She excitedly brought the news to Cornet Bisemut, an apprentice of arcane magic at the time. Cornet encouraged her to publish the work herself; this new find in conjuration theory was big enough to merit an article of its own. Gadfly recruited Cornet as a coauthor and they devoted every night for the next few months to this project. Gadfly's method was eventually published in the "Annals of Magic and Computation," the fourth journal she and Cornet contacted. When she finally made her name, she immediately set out to do it again.
Gadfly turned out to be a prolific author, with Cornet and without. She had developed a collection of atypical methods and hacks for writing magic, and she realized that many of those tricks could be valuable for the world to hear. She still wasn't famous by any standard: her work addressed niche subjects and was usually buried deep in the journals where it was published. There was nothing that caught the public eye. But Gadfly had drawn the attention of Donna Myerby, who tracked her down and made her a startling offer.
Gadfly's contract with the library would be cancelled, she would travel all the way to Kudo, and she would work with governors, academics, and clerics from across the continent to develop a spell to change the world. After a fretful week of soul-searching, Gadfly accepted.

Work at the Caesiate

It was getting cold when they left, and the journey by horse and carriage took half a season. Donna and Gadfly were accompanied by four soldiers in expensive-looking armor, who seemed to rebuff Gadfly's usual conversation-starters. From the day she was summoned, Gadfly had been connected to the library and almost never left its boundaries. Now she was out in the wilds she'd never explored, with a new colleague she'd never met, and four guards whose professions she'd never seen in person.
"Can you stop hovering?" This question was asked by several people on several occasions, and it seemed to be the only advice they could give when Gadfly voiced her discomfort during the long trip. She had a seat in the front of the carriage, but the weightless being found it difficult to sit down. Though she kept a bright demeanor in front of Donna, she arrived in Kudo with a monumental headache, which compounded the feeling that she was out of her depth in this new world. Gadfly's first foray into the outdoors was, as described in one of her letters, "the most enlightening thing I'll never do again."
It was a tense march to the Caesiate, which itself was a cold and imposing building. To dispel her fears, Gadfly set to work as soon as possible. She quickly found her element again, and her colleagues' accounts of her are glowing. Albert Thaumaton in particular was excited to meet this outlandish scholar, and he joyfully offered to introduce her to the team and the project. He wanted to serve in some capacity as her mentor; in the end, she became his mentor instead.

Making an Impression

During her time at the Caesiate, Gadfly faded into obscurity in her hometown. Her old acquaintances were shocked to hear her name again, and blindsided by the news that she was a national hero. She visited her home only once (she was never fond of traveling), but many people claim that they still receive letters from her. Some of them actually do.
Of course, the disastrous first resurrection caused Gadfly's public image, as well as her colleagues', to turn sour. Some historians labelled her an irresponsible pioneer whose hubris caused her downfall. Her most extreme detractors questioned her ability to feel compassion. Even Cornet stopped writing to her. Despite some truly monstrous criticisms of Gadfly, the most vicious ones came from her own words and letters, which shivered with regret. A strange relationship formed between the members of the Caesiate, who could neither hate nor forgive their accomplices: they knew each other too well on both counts. Gadfly restrained her anger from good friends like Donna and Albert, and turned it on herself instead.

Later Years

Gadfly currently lives in Omurrin, a hamlet in northeast Kudo. It's a snug, mountainous town of about 20,000 people, with a perfect view of the sea and a monastery with an expansive collection of academic journals. Here she continues her work on small research projects, and teaches classes for wizards in their first two years of apprenticeship. Her research has drifted to the theoretical side, far from the dire choices she made every day at the Caesiate. She's content to spend the rest of her life this way, but she watches the approaching Duumvirate War with concern.

Year of Birth

652 80 Years old