The Builders, the Believers, and the Brave

By Marya Sherron | Documentary Director & Lead Storyteller

It still feels surreal.

We did it.

We got on the ground. We filmed. We traveled. We stood in the middle of something extraordinary and watched it unfold in real time — the players, the stories, the beautiful mess of it all. What began as a spark became something real. And now, here at the close of the year, there’s only one way I know to begin:

Thank you.

This could not — and would not — be possible without the support of the LRG community as a whole. What we witnessed this year went beyond gameplay. You let us in. You trusted us. And you reminded me why I do this work.

As a storyteller, I’ve always tried to honor the things I love by shining light on them. I don’t chase spectacle. I look for beauty in the simple, the honest, the overlooked. I see depth in the mundane. Meaning in the messy. And when something moves me, I ask how I can serve it with my gifts. This year, that meant showing up with a vision, a camera, a team, and a fire we carried all summer long.

But here’s the truth: Honest storytelling is hard.

Early on, a member of our development Table asked, “What if we see something that isn’t good?” My answer was simple: Tell the story as it is.

That’s the assignment. That’s the calling.

A storyteller does not massage the truth. We don’t shape it to fit comfort or preference. We listen. We observe. We seek to understand. And yes, we sit with grey areas. With conflict. With what doesn’t go as planned. That is precisely where the human story lives.

This summer held hard things. Surprises. Shifts. Moments that tested us — and others that revealed something unexpected. But we didn’t look away. We leaned in. Because the LRG world isn’t just strategy and survival. It’s people. Messy, marvelous, complicated people trying their best to build and become something meaningful.

And let me tell you what I saw:

I saw builders — creators who imagined new worlds and brought them to life in forests, backyards, basements, and fields.

I saw believers — people who said yes to showing up, again and again, because deep down they knew this was more than a game.

And I saw the brave — the players who didn’t just come to win, but came to grow. Who reached deeper. Who found something wild and worthy in themselves and pulled it forward.

That’s the story we’re telling. Not just of who won and who was voted out, or savage blindsides, and challenge beasts — but of the ones who refused to let the world stay small and the ones who were brave enough to grow and become more. The ones who dared to dream, build, risk, and believe.

As we enter this next phase — cataloguing footage, reviewing interviews, and allowing the story naturally rise — I remain grounded in what I knew from the beginning:

This isn’t just a documentary.

It’s a tribute.

A mirror.

Maybe even a movement where the visionaries will come out of hiding and help lead in the new we desperately need.

And I am so very grateful to play my part and offer a lens.

Here’s to all that is still to come.

Building Together.