Listen to the sound clip And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on my door. from Baldur's Gate 3 Soundboard:
And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on my door.
This sound is from Baldur's Gate 3 Soundboard
Bloody maniac. The words are spat out with venom, the speaker's voice filled with righteous anger and disbelief at the atrocities committed by a madman. The sound of steel meeting steel rings out as blades clash in a deadly dance, the clang of metal on metal drowning out all other noise in the heat of battle. The metallic tang of blood hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the brutality that lurks just beneath the surface of civilization.
Blade Ward. The incantation is whispered with reverence, the words carrying a weight of ancient power and mystique. The air thrums with energy as magic crackles and arcs through the atmosphere, the sound of spells being cast a symphony of arcane wonder that fills the listener with awe and wonder. The very fabric of reality seems to shift and warp with each incantation, the very essence of magic made manifest in sound and fury.
Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? The words are spoken with a mixture of relief and joy, the speaker's voice laced with genuine affection and gratitude. The sound of laughter bubbles up from deep within the speaker's chest, a warm and comforting sound that wraps around the listener like a blanket on a cold winter night. The sense of camaraderie and companionship is palpable, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there are still moments of light and love to be found.
A path to redemption? Awe, a road to damnation. The words are heavy with meaning, the speaker's voice tinged with both hope and despair. The sound of footsteps echoes in the silence, each step a reminder of the journey that lies ahead. The path is fraught with peril and uncertainty, the road to redemption paved with thorns and pitfalls. But still, the faint glimmer of hope remains, a beacon in the darkness that beckons the listener forward on their quest for salvation.
Another hour sticks it. Time marches on inexorably, the sound of the clock ticking away the seconds a constant reminder of the fleeting nature of existence. The minutes slip through the hourglass like grains of sand, each one a precious commodity that can never be reclaimed. The sound of the clock striking the hour reverberates through the room, a solemn tolling that marks the passage of time with grim finality.
After all. If there is one rule I hold dear, it's that one must always give the devil his due. The words are spoken with a wry smile, the speaker's tone tinged with irony and amusement. The sound of a coin flipping through the air fills the room, the metallic clang of metal on wood a stark reminder of the value of a soul. The deal is struck, the bargain sealed with a handshake and a knowing look, the sound of a contract being signed sealing the listener's fate.
At least there's no shortage of enemies out there for you to kill. A veritable feast for the violence of the heart. The words are spoken with a predatory gleam in the speaker's eye, the sound of a sword being drawn sending a shiver down the listener's spine. The clang of steel meeting flesh fills the air, the screams of the fallen a symphony of suffering that fuels the listener's bloodlust. The thrill of battle is palpable, a rush of adrenaline and excitement that sets the heart pounding and the senses on high alert.
And tragedy, my friend. Well, there's my bread and bloody butter. The words are spoken with a heavy sigh, the speaker's voice filled with resignation and a hint of bitterness. The sound of a door closing with a finality that echoes through the room, a stark reminder of the inevitability of fate. The weight of the world lies heavy on the listener's shoulders, the burden of tragedy and loss a constant companion on their journey through the dark and dangerous world of Baldur's Gate 3.
Brava, lovely work. I see I was right to make you the offer I did. The words are spoken with genuine admiration and appreciation, the speaker's voice filled with pride and satisfaction. The sound of applause fills the room, the clapping of hands a thunderous ovation that reverberates through the air. The thrill of success is palpable, a rush of triumph and accomplishment that leaves the listener breathless with pride. The sense of validation and approval is intoxicating, a heady cocktail that fills the listener with a sense of purpose and fulfillment.
Pleasant dream gives way to an even more pleasant reality. The words are spoken with a dreamy sigh, the speaker's voice filled with wonder and awe. The sound of birdsong fills the air, the sweet melody of nature's symphony a balm to the listener's weary soul. The beauty of the world is laid out before them, a tapestry of color and light that fills the senses with joy and wonder. The sense of peace and serenity is overwhelming, a welcome respite from the chaos and turmoil of the world outside.
And when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on my door. The words are spoken with a smirk, the speaker's voice tinged with malice and amusement. The sound of a door creaking open fills the room, the whisper of footsteps approaching sending a chill down the listener's spine. The offer is made, the deal struck with a handshake and a smile, the sound of a contract being signed sealing the listener's fate. The sense of unease and foreboding is palpable, a reminder that not all doors lead to salvation.
Been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that. The words are spoken with a mix of surprise and gratitude, the speaker's voice filled with genuine emotion. The sound of a hand reaching out in friendship fills the air, the clasp of fingers a warm and comforting touch that lingers long after the speaker has left. The bond forged between them is strong and unbreakable, a testament to the power of trust and loyalty. The sense of camaraderie and companionship is palpable, a reminder that true friendship can withstand even the darkest of times.
Burning Hands. The incantation is spoken with a steely determination, the words carrying a weight of raw power and fury. The air crackles with energy as flames erupt from the speaker's fingertips, the sound of fire roaring to life a symphony of destruction and chaos. The smell of smoke fills the air, the acrid scent of burning flesh a stark reminder of the price of power. The sense of danger and awe is palpable, a reminder that magic is a double-edged sword that must be wielded with care and caution.
A bit shocked, but friend, it's a relief and a pleasure to make your acquaintance. The words are spoken with a warm smile, the speaker's voice filled with genuine kindness and hospitality. The sound of a hand extended in friendship fills the room, the clasp of fingers a gesture of welcome and acceptance. The sense of connection and camaraderie is palpable, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there are still moments of light and kindness to be found. The sound of laughter fills the air, a warm and comforting sound that wraps around the listener like a hug.
And I don't like pig shit, but damned if your mouth ain't spewing it. The words are spoken with a sneer, the speaker's voice filled with disdain and contempt. The sound of a door slamming shut fills the room, the echo of wood meeting wood a stark reminder of the speaker's finality. The sense of betrayal and anger is palpable, a reminder that not all promises are meant to be kept. The sound of footsteps fading into the distance is a hollow echo, a reminder of the fragility of trust and the fickle nature of fate.
A familiar feeling, like a kind word and a kind touch at the same time. It's warm and comfortable. The words are spoken with a soft smile, the speaker's voice filled with warmth and affection. The sound of a hand reaching out in friendship fills the room, the clasp of fingers a gesture of solidarity and support. The sense of connection and camaraderie is palpable, a reminder that true friendship can withstand even the darkest of times. The sound of laughter fills the air, a warm and comforting sound that wraps around the listener like a hug.
And I can only assume you two were on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region. The words are spoken with a wince, the speaker's voice filled with sympathy and understanding. The sound of an eyeball being poked fills the air, the squelch of flesh against metal a visceral reminder of pain and discomfort. The sense of shared suffering is palpable, a bond forged in adversity and pain. The sound of laughter fills the air, a warm and comforting sound that wraps around the listener like a hug.
Bone Chill. The incantation is whispered with a shiver, the words carrying a weight of icy power and dread. The air grows cold as frost spreads through the room, the sound of bones creaking and cracking a haunting echo of mortality. The chill of death hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitable march of time. The sense of unease and foreboding is palpable, a reminder that not all magic is meant for good.
And what is madness but a denial of reality? Still, I have a feeling you change your mind. The words are spoken with a smirk, the speaker's voice filled with mischief and glee. The sound of breaking glass fills the room, the crash of shards against the ground a cacophony of chaos and discord. The sense of disorientation and confusion is palpable, a reminder that the line between sanity and madness is thin indeed. The sound of laughter fills the air, a warm and comforting sound that wraps around the listener like a hug.
You can play and download these sounds here: [Link to download Baldur's Gate 3 sounds]
Go to the full soundboard
with more sound clips
Search