Game combat feels thin without the sharp exhale of a swing connecting, the choked gasp after a gut punch, or the ragged cry that signals a character going down. These non-verbal battle grunts—sometimes called efforts, exertions, or onos—carry more weight than most players realize. They sell physicality when dialogue alone cannot. Yet the process of capturing them remains one of the least standardized and most punishing parts of game audio production.
Voice actors routinely report that the heaviest wear comes not from long monologues but from the dozens of repeated hits, falls, and death reactions packed into a single session. A typical brief might list fifteen face punches, ten rib kicks, five fire screams, and another set of cliff falls. When those demands land on top of dialogue and run for hours without proper structure, vocal cords pay the price. Hoarseness, reduced range, and outright loss of voice are common enough that industry surveys from ACTRA Toronto and academic studies published in the Journal of Voice treat them as occupational hazards rather than rare accidents.
The inconsistency compounds the problem. One project pushes for hyper-realistic intensity and heavy compression that risks clipping. Another accepts flatter takes that disappear under the rest of the mix. Neither approach serves the final product or the talent. Clean, varied, dynamic recordings give sound designers room to work; distorted or fatigued ones limit options and force costly pickups.
Experienced performers and directors have developed practical methods that protect the instrument while still delivering the grit players expect. Warm-ups matter more here than in ordinary dialogue sessions. Lip trills, gentle sirens, and humming activate the voice without slamming the folds together. Some actors add light physical movement—push-ups or sit-ups—so the body already feels engaged before the first take. Diaphragmatic support does the rest: power comes from the core rather than the throat. Open vowels (“ah,” “oh,” “uh”) produce usable grunts without the glottal slam that quickly leads to strain.
Visualization helps too. Thinking about the exact location of an impact—cheek versus solar plexus versus knee—changes the shape of the sound in ways that feel authentic. Directors who supply animation references give actors a clearer target and reduce the number of wasted takes. Variety remains essential. Pitch, length, intensity, and even mouth shape (clenched teeth, open jaw, sideways shift) keep the library from sounding repetitive once it loops in combat. Sébastien Croteau, known for extreme vocal work on titles including Baldur’s Gate 3, emphasizes playing with specific vowels and consonants that better convey attack or pain; the alphabet alone rarely produces the most realistic results.
Session structure is equally important. Strenuous material belongs at the end, after dialogue is safely recorded. Short bursts with real breaks, constant hydration, and the freedom to stop when discomfort appears prevent cumulative damage. Engineers who lower levels in advance and allow performers to work slightly off-axis reduce plosives and clipping without forcing the actor to hold back. Post-session cool-downs—light humming around speaking pitch—help the voice settle.
Research supports these practices. Pilot studies and a later randomized controlled trial on Vocal Combat Technique showed measurable reductions in self-reported vocal handicap, pain, and acoustic perturbation measures after training, without sacrificing the realism that directors require. ACTRA recommendations call for scheduled breaks during high-stress work, limits on consecutive taxing sessions, and access to coaches for performers new to the demands. None of this is theoretical; it comes from performers who have lived through the sessions and clinicians who measured the results.
Standardization does not mean uniformity. It means clear briefs, reference libraries of approved efforts, consistent loudness targets, and post-session care built into the schedule. When those elements are present, the recordings stay usable across platforms and languages, and talent remains available for the next project.
As games reach wider audiences, the same non-verbal material must travel. Authentic battle grunts and death cries need cultural and linguistic adaptation just as dialogue does. Artlangs Translation has spent more than twenty years building the infrastructure for that work. With proficiency across more than 230 languages and a network of over 20,000 professional partner translators, the company handles game localization, multilingual voice recording for short dramas and audiobooks, video and subtitle localization, and the data annotation and transcription that support large-scale audio pipelines. Their case history includes long-term partnerships with publishers who require consistent quality across multiple territories. That combination of technical recording standards and linguistic reach helps ensure the combat sounds that feel visceral in one language still land with the same force in dozens of others.
