A single-player colony simulation
You can't command them — only provide, comfort, and protect. Too little and they starve; too much and they fade; and predators, plague, and hard winters are always at the door. Hold the balance, and a lone gnomelet grows into a colony that thrives as one.
Free to play in your browser at app.gnomelets.com · Installs like an app · Coming soon to the App Store & Google Play.
Coax, don't command
There are no orders, and almost no meters. You read each gnomelet through its posture and mood, and act through simple verbs — never commands. Trust multiplies every one, so care comes first. And they can't fend for themselves — feeding them, defending them from what hunts and sickens them, and steadying the colony is yours alone.
Set out food, a ball, a place to rest. They decide whether to take it.
Touch-and-hold to soothe. Patient comfort is how trust grows.
Beckon their attention elsewhere — a suggestion, never a leash.
Say no, and live with it. Every choice leaves a mark on the bond.
Feed and comfort from the first minute; gardens, festivals, and a shaft of divine light as the village rises. Every one is an offer, not an order — but the colony depends on you to provide for it and protect it.
Read them at a glance
Gnomelets never show numbers. Everything they feel surfaces as a little picture, a glow, or a pop-up — or tap any one to read its whole nature. Here's the entire vocabulary, in one place.
Moods & needs — a picture above the head
Wants food — set out an apple.
Wants a drink — a well or trough.
Low on energy — wants to rest.
Needs a wash — clean its space.
A broken heart — wants company, another gnome or you.
Everything's just right — your cue you're doing well.
Something's wrong — often a predator near.
In real trouble — needs care right now.
Auras & glows — a state around the whole gnome
You're soothing it (touch-and-hold). This is how trust grows.
The belly swells with the coming child, then this golden glow as it splits in two.
Drawn to the totem, or basking in your shaft of divine light.
Overcrowded and given up. Only patient comfort brings it back.
A brief scuffle between two gnomes — it passes.
You sent a blessing — a quick burst of golden twinkles.
Pop-up cues — brief signs that float up, then fade
Starving — hunger's critical; step in now. (💧❗ means parched.)
A home went up — the colony spent wood to build it.
Recharging — a rite (bless, rally, rain) is still on cooldown.
Not needed — you offered wood, but the colony has enough.
"Wants a mate" — the hint tells you how to help
A partner's nearby — beckon them together.
The partner's unhappy — cheer it up first (feed, play, bless).
The partner has withdrawn — only patient comfort reaches it.
No partner exists yet — grow the colony first.
Tap a gnome to read it — its nature, fixed at birth
Bold or shy
Sociable or solitary
Restless or calm
Night owl or early riser
A notably greedy one wears it.
…and how it feels right now
Mood — happy · so-so · sad · asleep
What it wants — food · water · rest · a wash · company
Wants for nothing — and a 💛 thread links it to its dearest friend.
The one meter you watch
Love them too little and they starve.
Love them too much and they fade.
Both ends are ruin. Everything that matters happens in the narrow space between.
One quiet gauge rides above your village. Drift to either edge and the colony is lost. Hold them in the green long enough, and they cross a threshold few players ever reach — they begin to wake up.
Not just a quiet garden
Gnomelets is gentle, but it isn't safe. Day slips into lantern-lit night, weather rolls through, and a procedural score fills out as the colony grows. Keep them protected and in balance and they flourish; let it tip too far either way, and the colour drains from the world.
Sunrise, golden hour, nightfall and rain all pass in real time — and the score grows from a lone melody into a whole village's song.
A hawk by day, a fox at the treeline, an owl after dark. Raids are telegraphed — wave them off before they snatch a gnome.
A thriving colony is warm, saturated and full of song. Let its spirit fail, and the colour quietly bleeds out of everything.
A world that keeps going
The habitat runs in real time and keeps living while you're away — come back and the world has moved on without you.
One amber gnomelet, full of needs. Sustain genuine care and it settles, nests, and splits in two — the first of many.
Name your gnomes and watch them build: rough huts that grow into grander homes, a town square and well, farms, lanterns, a hearth they gather around after dark.
And then, one day, the village starts building something that isn't for them. It begins to watch the edge of the world. It begins to watch you…
Play like a native app
Open app.gnomelets.com in your browser, then install it. It runs full-screen, works offline, and keeps your village right where you left it — no app store required.
Don't see an install option? Make sure you're using the browser listed above — on iPhone, installing only works in Safari.
On the way
We're bringing Gnomelets to mobile app stores. Until then, you can play and install it straight from the web today.
Free — and staying that way
Gnomelets is free to play. If it's brightened a day, you can drop a little something in the jar to help keep the village growing — no pressure, no paywall, just thanks.
Tip the jarStart with one amber gnomelet. Find the balance, and raise it into a whole colony that thrives as one.
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