It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Keyleth, a half-elf druid . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, you
 The Voice of the Tempest, after helping Pike for a while in the rebuilding of Vasselheim, eventually retires to Zephrah to take up her duties there. She adventures with her friends when called upon, and reconnects with Kerrek in Westruun.
DM: Yeah. He's a quick jaunt from Zephra, thankfully. Westruun's not that far. That's one of the closer large cities outside of Stillben.
Player: Perfect. We're weekend buddies. We go to wine country. And then I work on the propagated sprig from the Sun Tree and continue to build it out, hopefully on the ley lines of the planet, and I take the feather that Pike gave me from Vax and I embed it into the trunk of the tree as well as any other relics from the Raven Queen I can find. Care for ravens as much as I can.
DM: There is an uptick of ravens in the space of Zephra as well. Not many, but more than there would be, which is usually zero.
Player: And from the branch of the Sun Tree create my own raven tree of the Ashari. Take a long, long, long, long, long time before I maybe date again. Maybe. But eventually, hopefully, after a long, long, long, long, long time sunset into the tree and become a part of this realm.
DM: That's a ways off for you, Ms. Archdruid.
Player: Ways off.
DM: But you begin those preparations.
Player: But that's the plan.
DM: Okay. Well you, Keyleth, who many only once saw the naive druid girl have a level of respect now that's carried with that mantle that you hold. And the council of Tal'Dorei occasionally calls upon your wisdom and guidance. The alliance between the civilised and the natured world of the lands irrevocably in Tal'Dorei bound to you at this point, between you and the earth Ashari who reside up in the Cliffkeep. Between occasional jaunts to Emon and Whitestone, you find renewed joy in the protection of the people there. One cold Cuersaar the 13th, the tenth month of the year, the cool summer dusk day closes and you emerge from the quarters to find that the winds come and blow through your hair. You step out to the sound of children laughing as a dozen Ashari kids, elf, dwarf, orc, many bloods and creeds rush past as they play. It's a familiar sound. It's a happy sound. You glance over at this village you're protecting and the people that truly look up to you as their leader, both not just from a might source but as a guide. And you look to them to teach you things every day as well. Looking past as the sun begins to set, you see Korrin standing by the cherry blossom at the edge of the cliff near the amphitheatre where you had your ceremony. In pinks and oranges and purples, the sunset takes the sky. As you approach, he still looks out. He's older, not too much older but older. As he notices you approach, he looks over. "In all my years, not a day passes where awe does not strike me at the beauty of this world." He looks over towards the sunset. "Don't ever lose the memory of every face whose strength helped you keep this light from fading. Every single face."
