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Not Yet Rated


This demo covers my narration voice and three character voices. Extract is from the novel 'Stout' by Taylor Small.

Vocal Characteristics



Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)


British (General)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the dwarf patted his leather jerkin to check that his ducats was still safely tucked away and then made to get up to his surprise, somebody helped him to his feet. Somebody with very large hands and a very, very loose understanding of personal hygiene. Hello, Rev. Ground the filthy alive, his face resembling a rather disgruntled potato. That little disappearing act to yours usually works better when we're on the bottom floor. Done it. Ah, drink, my old pal, Rev. Beamed my good old pal, Best pal. Maybe in time, who knows? Thanks for the pick me up. Very kind of you. I was just looking for the Lavey actually. Must have taken a wrong turn, but it put me down before I went myself. The Goliath released The dwarf had been dangling a good five ft above the ground. He lost his footing in the mud and landed on his ***. Yet again, the diminutive figure sauntered between the glyphs legs towards him. He held something in his hands. Care to explain these, said the halfling, the threat of violence, tripping from his voice, their dice Lido. You roll them and they show numbers. I can help you count them if you like. I know how to count you worm! Salido sneered. I was referring to these. A pudgy finger pointed to something wiggling on the dice. Rev grimaced their legs, he admitted. They do appear to be, don't they rev. Now humour me. Why have your dice got legs? A naturally occurring phenomenon? Or maybe there are very little people inside the dice, and they just worked out how to cut some leg holes. His insolence was met with a surprisingly swift jab to the troops from the Halfling's. Considering the size of the fist, it didn't have hurt. You know that magical trinkets of any kind abandoned my table. I mean, come on, Rev. Dice with legs. Where's your respect? Where's the satel T? Where's the craft? In the grift? You're right. It was very disrespectful of me. 1000 apologies. I'll never darken your door way again. Now, if I could just get my property back, you weren't getting these dyes or are gold run. Grint interrupted his slobber, leaving sticky dark patches on revs or burn beard. Well, in that case, up yours, Reverend hitched the heavy iron tanker he kept on his belt and chucked it at grants. Vegetable of her face, the sound of metal on stodgy flesh made a satisfying thwack, distracting the halfling for just a second.