Project Stronghold
Project Overview
Greetings and salutations, talented voice actors!
I am working on a little piece of narration which does not have a real name yet, hence why I'm calling it Project Stronghold. It's a grim fantasy epic centered on a wartorn valley where various groups are battling over the titular stronghold, even though no one really knows what awaits within. Something to bring eternal triumph? Horrid death? Who knows! That's the charm of it.
There are various characters that have unique personalities and quirks, and I would love to hear them brought to life more than anything.
(I'm also working on a 0-shoestring budget, so no big paychecks I fear...)
Hope to hear from y'all soon!
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Throkmok is the troll leader. He fancies himself a king of some kind, and has adopted the human language and certain mannerisms, which he gets wrong on a daily basis. His speech is deep and broken, and he often growls between words.
*Roars* GO ON BOYS! GET THE STUPID HUMANS! EAT THEM! MAIM THEM!
Trolls not stupid and cowardly! Trolls strong! Trolls brave! Trolls kill stupid borba!
Haha! Borba! Just in time to witness the troll king's triumph over the stronghold! We won borba! WE WON AND YOU LOSE NOW!
Habadar is a mentally unstable battlesinger, and the leader of the Red/Crimson Choir, a horde of raiders and marauders united in their love of chaos and freedom. He is believed to be chosen by the gods to lead the Choir to victory.
I am the voice of the Crimson Choir! The dread singer of the chorus that rends flesh from bone! The soloist whose words will spark the death of all infidels!
*Laughs hysterically* RUN PEASANTS! RUN! YOU WILL ONLY DELAY THE INEVITABLE!
That Damned troll "king" has been causing me immense headaches... what will we do about those brutish beasts? More fire maybe? Yeah, more fire sounds good to me.
The Voice of Herath is a mysterious sorceress from a faraway land. Her power is terrible, and together with her disciples she forms webs of knowledge and deception, which she believes will guide her to victory.
The webs carry with them visions. A battle draws near. The sons and daughters of Herath can no longer hide. We must fight, fang and claw. Our lives depend on it.
Lies spread through our enemies' ranks, like venom through blood vessels, slowly killing the beast from within. Beautiful.
The centurion knows much about our doings. He is dangerous. He must die. I will deliver the blow that will finally end the Legion's march in these lands.
Avitus is the aging leader of the Legion, an army 500 warriors strong, tasked with the capture of the stronghold, so they may atone for their past sins. He is a cold and calculative man, in stark contrast to his nemesis, Habadar the Red, who he considers a stark raving madman.
The march has been long. The battles have been hard. It's frankly been nothing but an endless storm of feces in our faces. But I say it'll be damn well worth it once the Legion makes it to the stronghold! So cheer up, and march early tomorrow!
Those damned shadow lurking freaks and raving madmen of the Choir make the trolls seem sophisticated... goddess help me.
There is no surrender. I may die, but the Legion will never be stopped! NEVER!
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