In true Rogue fashion, I have started this letter numerous times, only to delete it all in frustration. It feels impossible to adequately turn thoughts to words when these dang emotions keep getting in the way. However, after imbibing several of my favorite adult beverages, I hope to find the elusive message my heart seeks tell (after shutting my brain up).
When we started Rogue Exposure, we had zero expectations for how it would be received or where it would end up. Everything that has happened in the last two years has been incredibly humbling. I can’t thank our fans enough for the kind words, encouragement and friendships that have grown during our weekly romp among the stars.
From the start, we agreed that one word would dictate our decisions—fun. If we were having fun playing this game together, that was all that mattered. We wanted to share our quirks and be an advocate for the game we love and felt that if we were having fun everything else would fall into place. For the most part, this has held true and the past few years have been a wonderful experience.
This leads me to my next bit, which is unquestionably one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. A decision that (unfairly) affects four other people who I love and miss dearly. In the years since we started Rogue Exposure, my life (and the lives of all the cast members) has been turned upside down. That’s the risk you take when you start something like this at a pivotal time in everyone’s lives. I am so proud of things that everyone has accomplished, and could not be more fortunate to call these amazing individuals family.
Like our lives, Rogue Exposure has undergone some drastic changes in the years since launch—some good, and others harmful to our reputation, as well as our cohesiveness. I have spent many a night reflecting on what I want Rogue Exposure to be, and the things I could have (or should have) done differently. I won’t talk about those things here, but know they have weighed on me. Finding the balance between producing the show and keeping my enjoyment of tabletop gaming alive has not been a success story. This has led to me feeling burned out. I no longer find myself eager to prepare for the next gaming session. The ideas that once spilled onto the page now must be wrung out of my head. It is for these (and other) reasons that I am stepping away from the show. And, unfairly, my decision forces the hands of the other cast members. It is with a heavy heart that I announce the end of Rogue Exposure: A Starfinder Podcast.
(Even though, technically, we can’t call it that anymore. Copyright and all.)
To those of you who have been with us from the start, and to those who have joined us along our journey, thank you. At the great risk of sounding cliché, words alone cannot express my gratitude for your generosity. I apologize sincerely that you will not receive a full conclusion this story.
Where do we go from here? The honest answer is: I have no clue. I know what things I would like to happen. For instance, I want to keep writing and producing our own adventure paths and publications (in Starfinder and the soon-to-be-released Pathfinder 2nd Ed). The process of creating “Easy Money” was incredibly fulfilling. Working with Carl to build a universe that is ours and to share it with others is something I intend to continue. In fact, we already have the next adventure in the works, and hope to announce it within the year. I, and others of the cast, will still be active on our Discord server, chatting about pop culture, running the occasional game, etc. If you like what we do, stick around. Things will be different, but we aren’t abandoning ship.
We will have a farewell episode in the days to come with more information.
I love you all. So long and thanks for all the fish.