Female, British (General BBC + Scottish), Fantasy, Audiobook

Profile photo for Lauren Kayler
Not Yet Rated


\"Dungeons and Digbats\" written by Lauren Kayler. This excerpt includes the voices of the main female heroine in dialogue with an old crone and a jovial Scot. Piece was written, recorded, and produced by myself.

Vocal Characteristics




British (England - South East - Oxford, Sussex) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC) Scottish (General)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The moist dank air fills my aching lungs as I gasp like a half drowned sailor who has finally broken the surface. My eyes water at the overwhelming stench of rot and filth and the decaying remains of Goddess knows what over there. I choked down the bile rising in my throat. Where in the seven hells am I now? I wonder, can't quite grasp my last fleeting memories of, of. Oh, never mind. It'll come back to me. I fervently lie to myself. In the meantime, I take corporeal inventory. My head feels both too heavy and too light. I slowly flex my stiff fingers and limbs, feeling my joints uncomfortably loose or jammed at various junctures but nothing seemingly broken. Oh, it's no matter I've survived worse. Finally, my eyes begin to adjust to the dim flickering light and I find myself prone on a jagged rock floor. My cheek pressed to a puddle of, oh, not blood. A sudden drip from above sends a ripple through the standing water. Disrupting what I can only hope are colonies of algae. Oh, right. Then I shift slightly and jolt as I feel a mass lying next to me. But suddenly smile in relief as I recognize the rough calloused hand of my dear companion. I shudder with relief as I sense amorous breathing and give their hand a brisk squeeze before engaging my other senses. I hear the steady gutter or snore of a large beast. Each rise and fall of that heaving form elicits the clanking of iron keys against each other. I gently lift my head and find myself on the unfortunate side of thick rusted bars with a dripping earthen wall at my back and rough hewn stone beneath me. Bloody ****. Well, it looks like someone's finally coming around. Welcome. Where am I? I asked the haggard woman emerging from the shadows in the cell directly across from mine. You're in a prison. You stupid twit. Yes, I can see that. But where are we? Castle Gil? You know the king was usurped and new management threw us all down here to rot. What are you going on about your old git? Some of us are trying to sleep. Oh, finally back in the land of the living. Are you Lassie? I whip my head toward the voice from the cell to my right and Ringmore at your service and that Sally Arnold and whips there, please to make your acquaintance. Despite our humble circumstances. What brings you out here? Then I shake my head and stammer. I'm not sure you got ourselves in a bit of a pinch trying to burrow into the vault Downstairs Castle Gilli has the strongest wine you'll ever drink though. I imagine the likes of you could barely handle a wee whiff. It would put fur on your scales and lightning in your lungs. It's heavily guarded by enormous horrible beasties though. Couldn't to make hidden or tales of it. But I recommend staying far, far away from both ends, barely made it out alive.