Music underpins too many amazing moments in cinema to count. It feels natural, then, that gamemasters often use music and sound effects, helping to deliver the group’s story. Honestly, I use my audio library at every opportunity. However, the best storytellers use every tool at their disposal; that includes negative space. Using silence can scorch a moment at the table into memory. Borrowing from Thomas Carlyle: “speech is silver; silence is golden.”
Why Default to Constant Audio
One reason that springs to mind is very simple: someone (usually the GM) has just bought a lovely new album. It’s powerful; it’s evocative; it’s perfect for the next session. They want to put that purchase to good use. Of course they’re going to play it as much as they can.
Another reason is it’s such a powerful mood maker. People love movie soundtracks because they have made so many memorable moments in film. Many groups want to emulate those powerful moments in their own games. YouTube is full of actual play shows where a soundscape is playing from start to finish; they wish to offer the same level of entertainment.
On top of that, there’s the simple convenience. Michael Ghelfi Studios offers hundreds of high quality, seamless thirty minute ambiences. There’s also hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of cinematic audio on Opus. As a GM, hitting play on a playlist or long ambience lets me have one less thing to think about. I can set the scene with the audio, and then let the action flow from there.
Drawbacks to Nonstop Audio
However, there are other reasons, too. For one, some GMs are worried the players won’t “get” the mood. Sound is the safety net to catch anyone not understanding the scene’s emotion.
For another, some GMs are simply nervous of silence. Any time people aren’t talking is seen as dead air. There’s concern that quietness is a sign of awkwardness or disengagement. In some cases, this may be true, but in others, people are just thinking of what to do or say. Sometimes they are just processing consequences or enjoying the moment.
That is the risk constant audio holds. It can stop a session from breathing. The lack of variety works to flatten, not boost, emotional peaks.
Using Silence, My Old Friend
Silence can benefit a session beat in three ways:
First, it’s an obvious gear shift. If the group has been listening to a continuous soundscape, suddenly switching to silence signals pivotal change. It’s the time for a powerful narrative moment.
Second, and related to the above, silence makes the next audio—ambience, music track, or sound effect—hit much harder.Moving from silence to sound is often much more impactful than changing from one track to another. The brain has no clues to what’s coming next, and nothing to distract it from the first note.
Third, it’s a brilliant tension builder. Big dice rolls, story reveals, and character decisions can all feel more important with silence. The group’s attention becomes laser-focused. With less background noise, there’s less cognitive load. This pushes immersion deeper, and keeps the group locked in for longer.
How and When to Use Silence
As mentioned, right before a big narrative reveal, player decision, or pivotal dice roll are all moments silence can strengthen. Other times include the party entering sacred or unknown spaces as well as after big combats, letting the dust settle; horror or investigation beats often work well, too.
How to introduce and conclude the silence is worth considering for a moment. Hard cuts, transitioning into silence abruptly, are great for shocks or sudden danger. On the other hand, slowly fading to silence feels more suited to increasing unease, sadness, or reflection.
Maintain the silence for as long as the tension continues to build. Once the resolution hits—the reveal, death, or twist—switch back to music, ambience, or both. Mirroring the introductions, fading out silence will suit slower-paced resolutions more, abruptness for sudden shocks.
Silence naturally slows down the action at the table. Used well, it laser-focuses the table on the game’s events. That means it combines brilliantly with the GM using a lowered voice, a slower delivery, and heavy eye contact.
When Not to Use
There are times when silence simply doesn’t work well. Casual exploration or travel are much better supported by ambience or low-key, care-free music tracks. This signals to the players they can relax a little before the tension starts to rise again. Here, with no major resolution or mounting tension in sight, silence can feel more like emptiness than intentional storycraft.
There are even whole systems I wouldn’t consider using it for. For games like Paranoia (deep satire and dark humour), or Hollowpoint (high-octane action fun), silence is an ill-fitting tool. Silence is best saved for scenes slowing down to savour a very dramatic moment. A standard D&D 5e campaign twist, a Shadowdark enemy reveal, or a Pirate Borg eldritch discovery are much better fits.
Earlier, I mentioned GMs sometimes use sound as a safety net. There are instances when this is perfectly valid. For example, music is a great way to start the session; the players take their cue, the sidechats end, and everyone synchs into the moment. If players are genuinely lost in what’s going on, sound can work as a lifeline; never a good situation, but it can happen. The audio cue lets them at least guess the mood or danger level, without having to stop the game completely to explain things.
Lastly, overuse is a killer. Sessions can—and likely should—go by where silence doesn’t feature. I save it for the really big moments, for maximum impact. An over-used tool wears out very quickly. Infrequency adds to its power.
Using Silence Versus Low Ambience
A quick note here that silence isn’t low ambience. They serve very different functions.
True silence is for maximum emphasis; it’s a hard break from what was happening before, and/or putting everyone’s attention on one, single moment. If the rest of the session has had a seamless soundscape, its introduction has instant impact. True silence often puts people on edge, and players may want to fill that space—hopefully dramatically.
Conversely, low ambience, like Abandoned Cottage (Night, Creepy), is for unease, realism, or internal reflection. Although near-silent, even a gentle whisper of the wind or chirping of some birds puts less pressure on a scene. Players feel a lot less forced to interrupt.
Also, low ambience takes a lot longer to have full effect. These tracks need time for players to notice details like the creak of wood or rustle of leaves. This makes low ambience tracks brilliant for letting the players breathe and lower their stress for a moment; at the same time, it’s also working to set up the next beat that hits all the harder when silence or a music track kicks in.
For me, low ambience is for long transitions and setup. Silence is for instant impact and resolution.
Silence is Negative Space
Using silence creates something called negative space. Actively deleting or removing elements, storytellers and artists force people to zero in on what’s left. In this case, by cutting out all other sound, it focuses everyone’s attention on what remains; the person speaking and the gaps in-between take on much more prominence. No distractions, nothing else for the mind to register. It works to hyper-focus the group.
Silence is perhaps the most obvious use of negative space at the table. However, there are other instances of negative space GMs can use to sharpen attention. For instance, a party arrives at a new town. Many GMs will go ahead and give the players a literal picture or map (real or digital) to get them onboard with the scene; then, the GM highlights any key information. However, while they’re talking, even the well-meaning players will be scanning the picture and noticing details; just admiring the artwork is a tiny distraction.
An Alternative
Instead, consider the GM who speaks first, then supplies the resource. Players are in a vacuum of information, so the GM’s words hit at full effect. Once finished—keep it brief—the GM hands over the picture or map. Now the players are filling in blanks around the GM’s details. The picture is supporting the GM, not doing the heavy lifting.
I definitely went through a phase when I was keen to provide a nearly total sensory-experience to my players; at least in terms of sound and images that is! However, it’s something I have come to relax over. By using these techniques, the GM is showing trust in their players, while at the same time elevating their story delivery.
Negative space tools like silence are all tools that adjust the flow of information at the table. That is empowering, not something to fear.
In the End…
Next session, see if there is a moment—a reveal, a death, a big decision—that would get boosted by silence. Cut the audio, hold it, and see what happens. Silence, and other negative space tools like it, increase the chances that memory will stay long after the dice are packed away. Give those dramatic moments centre stage; the rest, as the Bard said, is silence.
