Grymora Codex

Somewhere in a drawer, a monastic clerk kept a small ledger of things that were probably not real. Grymora Codex is that ledger, if the clerk had a phone.

Eight beasts, at the moment. Wyrms, gryphs, one polite kelpie, an ember-bird that keeps to itself. Each entry gives you the sigil, the habitat, a couple of sentences of field-note prose — the kind you would jot in a margin with a pencil.

Alongside the bestiary you'll find:

— Lore. Half a dozen short readings. Not mythology proper — closer to house rules. How to leave gifts. How to read tracks. What to do when the weather turns odd.

— Match. A small parchment memory game: flip cards, pair each beast to its sigil, keep an eye on your move count. Tap "New round" to reshuffle.

— Journal. Tap the flame on a bestiary card and it joins your journal. Come back later and there they are — the ones you couldn't stop thinking about.

The whole codex lives on the device. No sign-in, no library card, nothing to sync. If the phone is in airplane mode on a train through the mountains, the codex works the same.

Written in a serif you'd expect on a ribbon in an old woodcut. The palette is parchment and ink, with the occasional ember when something needs saying.