Voice Acting Practice Lines for Video Game Auditions, Vol. 10
Keep expanding your audition material with another original batch of video game character practice lines built for voice actors at every level. This set introduces fresh archetypes including duelists, scholars, outlaws, and spectral figures, each crafted to challenge tone, pacing, and emotional commitment. Ideal for demo reels, casting prep, and sharpening character work across fantasy, sci-fi, horror, and stealth-action titles.
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Marrow Calden
A grim-faced executioner with quiet doubts, late forties. Deep, slow bass with a thoughtful drag. Speaks like a man counting heads in his sleep.
"Kneel. Try not to make this messy."
(long exhale) "Three hundred and twelve. That's how many I've taken. I keep count. Someone should."
"The hood ain't for them. It's for me. (beat) So when I close my eyes at night, I can pretend I never saw the faces. Doesn't work. But I keep wearin' it."
Lillet Pomwhistle
A tiny pixie courier, impossibly fast and impossibly chatty. High, sparkling soprano with a giggle stitched into every sentence.
(rapid giggle) "Letter for you, letter for you, sign here please-thank-you-bye!"
"Oh! Oh-oh-oh! I am NOT supposed to read the messages but THAT one was VERY juicy!"
"Okay so I flew over the mountain, then I flew UNDER the bridge, then I flew SIDEWAYS through the storm because the wind told me to, and THEN I delivered the package, and THEN I had a tiny tiny snack, and NOW I am here, (deep breath) and what was your name again?"
Inquisitor Halric Vorne
A cold, methodical investigator who never raises his voice. Mid-fifties. Smooth, precise baritone with the patience of a glacier.
"Sit. Speak. I have all night, and so, regrettably, do you."
(soft, almost kind) "You've been lying for ninety minutes. I admire the stamina. Begin again."
"I do not require your confession. I require your cooperation. There is, (beat), a meaningful difference. The first ends with absolution. The second ends with you walking out of this room. (quieter) Choose carefully which one you'd prefer."
Big Rook Halloran
A jovial fight-pit champion with a soft heart, late thirties. Booming, warm bass with a constant chuckle. Hits like a wagon, laughs like an uncle.
(laugh) "Oh, come on, kid, that was a TAP. I barely brushed ya."
"Win or lose, the ale's on me after. House rule. My house. My rule."
"Used to be I fought for coin. Then I fought for pride. Then I fought 'cause it was the only thing I was good at. (beat, softer) Now I fight 'cause the orphanage on Fifth Street don't pay for itself. (chuckle) Don't tell nobody. Ruins the brand."
Velindra Mossheart
A wary druid exile, thirties, more comfortable with wolves than people. Low, careful alto. Speaks slowly, like she's choosing which word will scare you off.
"Step lightly. The ground here listens."
(quiet) "I left the circle for a reason. Don't make me explain it twice."
"You think the forest is wild. It isn't. It's PATIENT. Every tree you've passed has watched a hundred travelers pass beneath it, and most of them never made it back to the road. (beat) You're still walking because I'm still walking with you. Remember that."
Kestrel Vyn
A flamboyant sky-courier with a love of dangerous stunts, late twenties. Bright, breezy tenor with a constant grin in his voice. Lives for the wind.
(whoop) "Tailwind's GOOD today! Hold on to something, gorgeous!"
"Crash? (laugh) I don't crash. I make aggressive, unscheduled landings."
"Look, I've flown through three hurricanes, two volcanic eruptions, and one very angry dragon's airspace, and I'm STILL the cheapest courier on the coast. (beat, grinning) You want fast and reckless, or you want slow and disappointing?"
Mother Sable
A retired thieves'-guild matron, sixties, sharp as a knife and twice as warm. Husky, rolling alto with the warmth of a fire and the edge of a blade.
"Sit down, love. Tea's on. So's the lecture."
(soft laugh) "I raised forty of you brats. Forty. And not ONE of you ever wiped your boots."
"I ran the guild for thirty-one years. Never lost a runner. Never broke a contract. Never killed anyone who didn't have it coming twice over. (beat) And then I retired. So when you barge into MY parlor with stolen goods and a bleeding shoulder, child, you'd best believe I'm gonna have OPINIONS."
The Pale Stranger
A spectral revenant bound to the road, ageless. Hollow, reverberant tenor with a long, drawn-out cadence. Speaks like wind through an empty house.
"I do not haunt you. I accompany you. There is a difference."
(soft, distant) "I died on this road. I have not yet finished walking it."
"You see only one of me. The road sees many. (beat) Every traveler who fell here still walks beside you, friend. You simply do not have the eyes for them. Yet. (quieter) Stay long enough, and you will."
Captain Yorra Pell
A no-nonsense city watch captain, forties, stretched thin and running on coffee. Crisp, weary alto with a permanent half-sigh.
"Move along. Nothing to see. I mean it."
(rubbing eyes) "It's three in the morning. Tell me you've got a confession or tell me you've got a body. Anything in between is a waste."
"Twenty years on the watch. Two stab wounds, four broken ribs, one bad marriage, and approximately nine THOUSAND drunks shouting at me about their rights. (beat) And every single morning I put the badge back on, because the alternative is letting this city eat itself. (sigh) Now. Speak."
Pop Quibbins
A senile but powerful retired battlemage, eighties. Wavering, distracted tenor that drifts between childlike wonder and devastating focus.
"Now where did I put my... oh! Oh, that's a lovely thunderbolt."
(humming) "Was I making tea? Or was I summoning something? (beat) ...Both. I was doing both. That's why the kettle's screaming."
"Now, sonny, I may forget your name. I may forget my own name. I may forget what year it is, what kingdom we're in, and which of these hands is my favorite. (beat, voice sharpening suddenly) But I have not forgotten one. single. spell. SHATTER, ELDER STAR!! (returning to wavering) ...What were we doing, dear?"
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