Steve24833, The Expert Scrivener

Member Since


Last Activity

5/18/2024 3:45 PM

EXP Points


Post Count


Storygame Count


Duel Stats

22 wins / 19 losses


Ordained Sage Exemplar



Hi, I'm Steve, pleasure to meet you. I'm an admittedly brash, narcissistic Irish dude who fucks about with bizarrely large responsibilities who has wandered onto the internet to have some craic and write something. Feel free to check out my games listed down below, I hope you enjoy them.

Anyhow, read my work, or yell at me, or search through my points to see what I've done if you're weird and value that as a use of your time.

Also, just read a few of my stories. Jesus Christ, I do not proof-read. Sorry about that, sucks to suck, huh?



"STEVE is the cause of my anger." The Final Brennon

"Steve is a loudmouthed piece of dogshit but we should pity him, life must not be easy for an inbred ginger freak who has to lash out on an internet forum whenever the constant wanking while crying with repressed Catholic guilt because be can't decide whether he likes dicks or tits (because his sister has both) all just becomes too much. His writing is shittier than anyone will admit and I hate him more than anyone in this site." Mizal.

"He's a half-fag degenerate who hates America." Endmaster

"People who quote themselves are retards." Steve24833

"Steve is degenerate filth and an embarrassment to the human race." Axiom

"Steve is undialectical trash and belongs in a gulag." Malkalack

"Steve has made me question every belief I have held up until now about the inherent goodness of people." Will11

"Steve, you have a puny brain and the attention span of a retarded child." JJJ-thebanisher

"Steve is the site's Down Syndrome baby that we all wish we had aborted long ago, but it's too late now, though he is mildly endearing in a drooling retard sort of way." BerkaZerka

"Here you are, throwing insults like a toddler with a dictionary." RoyalGhost_007

"You might be (the greatest writer of all motherfucking time)." Mayana

Trophies Earned

Earning 100 Points Earning 500 Points Earning 1,000 Points Earning 2,000 Points Won 2016 Contest for new School-based Storygames Having 3 Storygame(s) Featured Given by BerkaZerka on 11/11/2018 - BZ's Creatures of The Night Winner (tie with mizal) Given by EndMaster on 02/09/2016 - For continual output of quality stories. Given by JJJ-thebanisher on 03/05/2017 - Because you work hard and contribute a lot and deserve nice things Given by march5th00 on 12/24/2019 - For a long list of accomplishments Given by Will11 on 01/15/2017 - For your countless fantastic stories



Take control of General Achilles, a human General trying to lead the human fleet to prosperity through politics and military means, while dealing with keeping humanity and it's allies together, dealing with a barbaric race of raiders and a powerful alien alliance. Will humanity crush it's enemies under it's boots? Will you form a peaceful coalition between all species? Or will you become humanity's downfall?

This is my first game, which I made with the help of Steve24833. I really hope you enjoy it. Please comment on any bugs, mistakes or other screw-ups I made. 

Hey, the sequel's here, Achilles II: The Chykri. Enjoy it!

Achilles II: The Chykri

Play as Achilles, the leader of the new Coalition of humans, aliens and machines, to combat a new threat: The Chykri. Attempt to keep the Coalition together and fight not only to win, but to survive.

This is a sequel to our previous game, Achilles. We hope you enjoy it. Please rate and comment. Unless you don't like it, in which case just grumble to yourself about how this one isn't as good as the first. Thanks.

EDIT: Had to do some light work. Changed it so surrendering to Chykri grants alternative final chapter instead of sending back to start, checked grammar, changed a few more mistakes. Please message me or Steve if you find any bugs.

Among the Trees

Take control of Jacob, a young settler in New England in the late 17th Century. A tale of romance, horror and strange supernatural creatures awaits you in the odd and interesting woods that surround your home.

Well, this is just a short little romance-horror thing I made in three days to distract me from other projects. I hope you enjoy!


Take control of Samuel, a young man thrust into a world of bloodthirsty creatures of the night, howling beasts cursed by the moon, horrifying demons and worse.

This is our entry for Bucky's 2016 Halloween Contest. Enjoy!


Take control of a teenager moving to Dawnwood, a boring town deep in the south in the middle of nowhere. Still, the town holds many deep and dark secrets, many of which you will uncover soon...

Featured Story Fear the Psyker

Take control of Karth, a child with incredible powers born into a simple tribe on a feral world, as your life is torn apart by the arrival of the forces of Chaos. Fall into line as an obedient-slave soldier and fulfil your role as a trained killer, rise up against beings of pure hate and malice to try gain your freedom, or simply try to survive in a galaxy of horrors.

Well, I tried to write a Fanfiction based on Warhammer 40'000. If you're not familar with the series, don't worry, you don't need to be to play this. I hope you enjoy!

Featured Story In the Pale Moonlight

There are men in this world who were born to have the weight of the world on their shoulders, to have the horrors of the night carved into their souls, to see what shouldn't be seen and to defeat it. You are one of those men. You are a Hunter.

There are dark things that plague the night, things beyond what any soul should have to deal with. Things made from darkness and nightmares, things that feed upon the blood and flesh of the innocent, things that rule the night and loathe the living. These are your prey.

It is the night of your thirteenth hunt. It is time for you to take up your arms and to do what needs to be done, and make sure it's safe to walk at night once more.

This is an entry for the Creatures of the Night contest. There's thirteen endings to find, so good luck finding them. Thanks for playing, and above all, enjoy!


Take control of a young, aggressive Orc named Mazkil, of the Tribe the Red Blades, in his attempt to make his way in the world. Become an honored Chieftain of your tribe or become a feared Soldier for the Kingdom of Man.

Please comment and rate, tell me if you find any bugs. Enjoy!

Prometheus Academy

Take control of Mia, a student at Prometheus Academy, a school designed for creating super-soldiers, trained killers, unstoppable super-humans, skilled secret agents and above all, super-villains, and get revenge against the Crimson Cape, a super who's taken everything from you. 

This is the winner of the 2016 School-based Contest, so yay! Thanks to all who voted. I hope you all enjoy it.


There is a prophecy that one day, the barrier between reality and that which lies beyond will weaken. That day the great Mol'Chu will come forth, for it has its infinite eyes set upon this realm. It will drive all creatures to the realms of insanity and torment. However, the prophecy also tells of a great hero who will rise up, and the fate of the world will lie in his hands.

You are not that hero. You are a Ratling, your blood as weak as can be, your lineage one of thieves and cowards. Still, with your path there's a chance for betterment. You might be able to lift yourself up and find yourself some power in this world. Power you will wield. 

Thanks to WouldntItBeNice for beta-reading this, he was a great help. This is my longest storygame so far and I've decided to delve into some fantasy again. Anyhow, I hope you all enjoy!

Featured Story Saoirse

It is 1914. With fears of a war with Germany finally coming to pass, the British Empire has been plunged into war. While the Great War rages on, there is a resurgence of the Irish Independence movement, as the Irish people rise up to take advantage of the times to claim their freedom. You'll be taking the role of Michael McCarthy, a young man in such a troubled and turmoil-filled time. Take part in the 1916 Rising, the War of Independence and the Treaty War as brother is pitted against brother, friend against friend and father against son, as a country at war with itself is torn apart.

Well, seeing as it's been 102 years since the 1916 Easter Rising, I'd say an Edutainment game is appropriate to tell the story of the Irish struggle for independence. For the purposes of narrative and to allow choice, your character is a fictional one and at certain points will replace roles done by other men in real life to facilitate the narrative and to allow for choice and interaction, so that you'll be able to see and play a role in key events throughout the period. Enjoy!

The Nightmare Realm

Take control of James, a young boy who has suffered from horrific nightmares all his life that seem to be far more real than anyone else thinks, their effects seeping into the real world as your entire life becomes a nightmare. Try to stay sane throughout your miserable existence, while trying to end this curse and find some way to stop this hell.

Well, it's Halloween, and I haven't written anything in a while, so before your old Irish feen goes out and about on sesh, I thought I'd publish this. Enjoy!

The Only Lights in the Darkness are Flames

Take control of four members of SWAT in Tijuana raid a large, ancient mansion inhabited by the Espada de Dios, a Satanist cult that's kidnapped several people. Switch between these members as they stumble upon a horrific scene of horror, gore and perhaps something much worse...

This is my second horror story, a short little game I made just to help with Writers' Block on my larger games. Thanks to MasonJarGuzzi for proofreading. Enjoy!

The Path of Death

Take control of Dagden, a small Orc child taken from his family and taken prisoner in Reaper Castle under the control of the Grand Necromancer, before making friends with his daughter Blaise and choosing how to make your mark in the world.

This is my spin-off to Mazkil, except better, longer and with more things you like and less things you don't like, whatever they may be. Somehow, I've appealed to everyone! I'd like to thank the OKish Mizal for beta-reading and helping me sort through the earlier version of this storygame and make it somewhat readable, she was a fantastic help. Please rate, comment and tell me if you find any bugs. Thanks, and enjoy!


Take control of Karth, a young, powerful Psyker who has managed to lead a slave army to take over a massive battleship, and now has the whole galaxy at the tip of his fingers. Embrace the gifts of the Dark Gods and all the power and corruption it brings, sell your services to the highest bidder, take to the stars as a feared raider and pirate or try to find a peaceful existence among the dark and cruel stars. As the anarchic and terrifying Kaam the Prophet, loyal servant of Malice, rises up in the galaxy with a bloodlust for psykers and servants of the Warp, attempt to take down the champion of a destructive God that seeks to tear the galaxy apart.

This is a sequel to Fear the Psyker. It's my longest story yet and it has a lot of variables, so if, or more accurately, when you encounter any bugs, please do send them on, and I'll try my best to fix them. Also, the Score variable doesn't have anything to do with success, it's just a few variables to tell me what various choices commentators made and what endings they got.

Thanks to Seto and DiniTheWizard for beta-reading this! Anyhow, enjoy!


The Draconic creatures once ruled the realm with an iron claw, gods among men. The brutal and animalistic Wyverns hunted as they pleased, the honored and fierce Lizardmen spread across the lands and growing to the billions, the Dragonborn built civilizations of incredible size and discovered magic and technology beyond man's wildest dreams, with the true Dragons lived as gods turned to flesh and bone. 

You are none of these powerful creatures. You are a Kobold.

Your species is one of servants, of pawns, of grunts, of disposable warriors that live and die according the will of your dragon masters, lacking the strength, the speed, the magic, the power or even the size bestowed by the Gods to the rest of the Draconic races, surviving only by wits and numbers.

Now, as the dying embers of the once-great draconic races, your tribe is facing extinction at the hands of the young races. You won't let the Draconic flame be snuffed out with you. No, you shall ensure that the world witnesses the flames of your glory, flames that only your kind can create.

You will prove you are truly Draconic.

Articles Written

Villain Protagonists
An article about how to write a villain protagonist that's evil and dark, while still being lovable and someone we want to support in their struggle.

Recent Posts

Steve has returned on 5/3/2024 10:24:15 PM

Saoirse's great patriotic gold, that's the blood the ancestors in me. 

Steve has returned on 5/3/2024 10:04:09 PM

It'd have been a straight orgy, or at least a bi orgy, of ugly people.

This disrespect spits upon my reputation, and not in the good way.

Steve has returned on 5/3/2024 10:02:55 PM

Oh, good suggestion. Reading back on my old works, I'm honestly embarrassed that my dogshit still has a place on the front page, rather than this, the one work that brings pride to my dull soul.

CYS History (THE TRUTH) on 5/3/2024 10:00:20 PM

Died of an OD. Thought it was clean but it wasn't.

Thought I'd be a cool alleyway ghost, yet, here I am, haunting here.

Sucks to suck, I suppose.

CYS History (THE TRUTH) on 4/26/2024 11:25:06 PM

Sadder, less cool snakes.

CYS History (THE TRUTH) on 4/26/2024 11:07:17 PM

You can't assume that's still how I spend all of my time, just because it's still very accurate. That's anti-Irish bigotry.

CYS History (THE TRUTH) on 4/26/2024 10:39:07 PM

No he isn't.

Corona Tag! on 4/1/2020 2:12:09 PM


Finish That Sentence! on 3/31/2020 3:26:11 PM

...serious mental illness that's leading to me seriously not knowing who I am anymore, or what I want to do, or how I can escape... anything anymore, it's all just such a mess, and I'm trying to do everything right, but at the end of the day, no matter how hard I tried and how much I've accomplished, I just find myself staring at the mirror and seeing tears flood out of my eyes, and I just can't live like this... I need help.

Corona Tag! on 3/31/2020 3:07:21 PM

So to make this more interestig for myself, I had a friend send me some random words to include in the story. They did a shit job and picked bad words.


Random Words: Drip, Conscious, Short, Plough, Paint

Drip… drip… drip…

As he waited carefully, his eyes looked down to the blurry streets below him. Bright lights obscured the figures below in a soft haze, as he struggled to calm his emotions, to face it with a bit of dignity. It was too late to panic, too late to regret. All he had time to do was wait. He’d made his choice, agonized over it for hours. Days. Weeks. Years. In all honesty, he’d been deciding to make this choice for a long time now. So long spent waiting for the relief, but there was only a short time left now.

It wasn’t the happy people down in the streets below gave him doubt. He’d never had the strength to be jealous or angry, but he’d known they would never be like him, and he would never be like them. They were the lucky ones, the ones who felt, who loved, who cared and were cared for in return. It wasn’t the pain that gave him doubt. He knew it wouldn’t be. The familiar cold chill along his wrists was all he felt there, a numbness as the red ichor flowed slowly from his veins. He’d felt it many a time before, but this was the last time, and for that, he was grateful.

In truth, it was the drip that disturbed him the most. He had wanted it to be silent, to be quick and emotionless, like drifting off to sleep. But it wasn’t silent. As quiet as the dark apartment was, it was the constant drip, drip, drip of his blood as it splashed across the pale white tiles. That’s what gave him doubt. That’s what reminded him he wasn’t going to sleep.

Drip… drip… drip…

It would be over soon, though. He hoped. His hand had trembled as the steel blade his bitten flesh, as his drew thin red lines between the familiar scars, knew and old. He wondered briefly if he’d cut deep enough this time or whether the cowardice had stayed his hand for just too long. That had always been the mistake in his past. No matter how many times he tried, no matter how sure he was of his decision, there was always a moment of doubt in his mind.

Doubt which had led to him being found in the bathroom of his mother’s house, twitching and struggling to breathe like a fish out of water. It was doubt that had driven him limping down the apartment hall, thighs wet and crimson as he tried to find help, fear eroding at every element of certainty. It was doubt that led him to jump back to the safety of the sidewalk, milliseconds before the truck would’ve had ploughed straight into him and crushed his skull under its wheels. It was doubt that had stopped him time and time again, that had led to him ending up in that hospital bed, family members staring at him with their large, peering eyes. The first time, there had been concern, love even, despite the judgement that they tried to hide but shined so clear in the backs of their eyes. The first time, at least. Soon, he’d infected them with the same tiredness of it all. After the fourth time, his brother hadn’t taken the time to showed up. By the sixth, his sister stopped coming, leaving him with dear old mum. But the concern had faded from her eyes by the ninth.

Drip… drip… drip…

He understood why. It was painful for her, soul-destroying, and it ate away at her. At a certain point, the same tiredness with it all infected her, and she knew her son was lost, even if she would never dare say it, even if she would never dare think it.

But she did.

Drip… drip… drip…

He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing for silence. Soon… it would be over so soon.

He wondered whether he’d be conscious for it all. Whether he’d have to live through every agonizing minute of waiting. He’d had hoped to cut deep enough to list only a few minutes, but that wasn’t the case. Still, his strength was beginning to be sapped now. That was good. There would be no time for doubt now. No chance to escape his fate. He didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone stumble limping to the door yet again, beginning anyone who would listen for help.

He’d made sure to tell no one. That was his mistake too many a time. No one was wanted to hear the familiar heartfelt goodbye yet again, only to be faced with the same shivering, pathetic mess huddled in a hospital bed, bandaged and whimpering as escape eluded him yet again.

Drip… drip… drip…

He winced, the sound growing louder, reverberating around his skull. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, breathe beginning to tremble as his hazy vision fell to the floor. The tiles were covered in a dark maroon like a gory paint. Had the blood begun to dry already? Had it been that long? Would it take much longer? Questions bounced around his mind, but he ignored them, taking comfort in his dulling senses and the darkness spreading through his mind. He’d done it. This would be the final time, for once and for all. No regrets, no doubt, no taking it all back. All he was left with in his fading mind was a twinge of… sadness? Relief? Fear? The familiar cocktail of emotions filled his mind, as he was left with the urge for a cigarette to pass the time, to distract him from it all… and the sound. The ever-present sound.

Drip… drip… drip…

No one was coming. No escape was left. No room for doubt. The haze settled his mind, as he squeezed his eyes shut and embraced the darkness.


Drip… drip… drip…

Regaining consciousness, that was the first thing he heard. The dripping. It was almost familiar to him now, its rhythmic soft noise reminding him of a grandfather clock his mother had stowed away in the attic, where he’d first tried to escape all those years alone, barely a young boy.

His eyelids felt heavy, and he wondered how long it would take now. Lifting heavy eyelids with the last of his strength, he rolled his head over to try peer at the red puddles beneath him, to garner some idea of how much he’d lost. He was met with a familiar sight, as his heart jumped in his throat.

Bandages. Cotton, fresh bandages wrapped tightly around his arms, the soft touch caressing him like velvet shackles. He began to shake his head, trying to find the words to scream, to question, to beg, but all that came out was a tired, croaking whimper.

Drip… drip… drip.

He raised his eyes, seeing the source of that terrifying sound. An IV drip coiled in plastic tubing with whatever drug they’d decided to give him flowing along its snaking body and directly into his veins. Tears welled up in his eyes, so he squeezed them shut again. He squeezed them as tight as he could, trying to shut it all out, trying to forget…

But it wasn’t enough to stop the noise.

Drip… drip… drip…

No one stood around the hospital bed this time, staring down at him with those damned eyes. He wasn’t surprised. The apartment he’d rented to do the deed was paid for in cash. No need to bring up old memories, to hurt his family yet again with all of it. Not even a letter saying goodbye. He didn’t want attention for this. He didn’t want help. He just wanted it to be over.

And yet, it wasn’t. And yet, here he sat, staring at the caustic veneer of white painted over this sick, miserable rooms. A shitty hospital, just like all the others. Except… he was alone now. Alone with the ever-constant drip.

Drip… drip… drip…

As he waited for something else to happen, for the hours, days and weeks of misery and recuperation, the dripping of his tears on his hospital gown matched the dripping of those lifesaving, soul-crushing drugs.

Drip… drip… drip…