Probably the last one in this style I'll do until her ref sheet is finished. Artist is vena_Tasuh

Even when Düs goes to the surface, she cannot rely on her eyes due to their sensitivity after 200 years living mostly underground. If too bright a light shines in them, she could go truly blind with ease. So bad is this issue that she must wear a protective hood when she does visit the surface in the day, and full moons seem as brightly lit afternoons. One may think these sight issues would put reading and writing out of her reach, but in truth she is the flock's very lorekeeper.
Being the oldest gryphon in her flock -and perhaps alive - Düs remembers a great deal more of the old gryphon culture than most birds around her. Upon realizing this, she began to write histories as best she could based on her own memory. Tales of creation and stories of folly alike were recorded on stone tablets, which Düs would carve with her talon by the light of a single candle. Sometimes she would even have her caretakers escort her to ancient burial sites, where she would pluck at any loose thread of fate that remained in order to better glimpse her people's history. It's troublesome but she insists upon it, seeing her records as a bulwark against the prospect of any bird forgetting why they must be forever ready to restate their right to their homeland.
Other times, she is approached by ancestrally conscious families who wish to make sure their legacy and family contributions to the flock are never forgotten. This service is rendered for the cost of a nice meal in their nest, where they can regale her with their history 'til the tale is told.
Whatever it is she's scribing, when she's ready to write she donns a single steel claw by the light of a single wax candle - the only light she can work within and remain unblinded by - and scrapes into stone anything from family histories and folk tales to guidebooks for sacred traditions and stories of great deeds. She's even penned guides for sustainably hunting and fishing, and some rudimentary laws that every gryphon is expected to avoid breaking. When a book is done, she will call the nearest free blacksmith to take her work and copy it into a tablet of iron, where it can be used as a stamp for more copies that will be available in various small libraries after they're coated in protective wax.

So durable are these steel copies that some have even made it to foreign libraries. Most are simply curiosities that collect dust, but some are seen as information goldmines for the few scholars who bother studying gryphons as a people. Perhaps her most well known work worldwide, however, is a steadfast proclamation of sovereignty. Written as a treaty to end the war of starving summers all those years ago. It proclaims as follows:

"In the blood of flocks and kin lost to famine and gunfire, we seal this promise to ourselves, our ancestors and our offspring yet to be. From now until the lands are sea, no outsider may set foot or root in our mountains, save by the grace and and following presence of a native. The privilege of passage by our nests is earned only by forsaking to us all our home's benevolence, and gifting to gryphonkind one treasure in your tow for every sixteen posessed. To turn face from our offer and partake in our game, our fish, our stones or any fruits of the peaks is to be lost to avarice, and debase oneself to the ranks of prey. Only in feeding the mouths who've starved by your greed will reconciliation be made."

This tablet is known by every merchant, noble and even carriage driver in the proximity of the stonequill landbridge as less a treaty and more a survival guide. If you have cargo you can't ship south by sea, you will be adhering to it or becoming an unwilling part of the ecosystem the gryphons so fiercely protect. Of course, it having been so long since the war and the lifespans of the northern lizardfolk being so short leads to occasional attempts to smuggle through, or even build outposts at times. However, these bases are usually short lived and smuggling rings destroyed by gnashing beaks within just years of opening. The long lifespans of gryphons almost ensure that they won't soon forget why they keep aloof against "friendly" visits.