<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/c/cf/Olivia_the_cleric.jpg)</div>In an age of roads and diplomacy, Seedbringers are seen in far fewer number. Once there were two to a caravan, ranging between disparate clans under promise of crops to endure the harsh summer droughts. But with the spread of reason and the growth of sedentary churches, Ovara's scouts are rarely seen by one as rooted as Olivia. Their stories are romantic, larger than life adventures which call more than a few to the faith, and were it not for an act of cowardice, this might have been Olivia's path.<br/><br/>Instead she ranges with this band of brigands. She is not a Seedbringer but a bureaucrat, ensuring Delvers Company represent the interests of those in power. Never is this clearer than when she hefts a frayed bag through the whiplike tangle of dense fibrous roots and the weight of a book strains within, with the sound of settling paper. If it were not for Delvers Company she would live out her service in a honeycomb temple, and if it were not for Seedbringer Athia's desperation, she would never be this far out on the frontier.<br/><br/>The feelings she's harbored for a journey like this, deep in a naive and girlish part of herself, come unbidden to her eyes as she listens to Briar share a dizzying wealth of insight into the mysterious world of black forests and fairy rings and will o'wisps. She is practically a Seedbringer herself, Olivia speculated some time ago. But now she's come to realize that as the Seedbringers go out into the world, they need someone like Briar to guide them. No one bee does it all alone. Briar is an invaluable asset, and Olivia endeavors to stick close. Her airy white gown becomes too easily drawn over branches by the weight of amber trim, and too often needs to be rescued. She falls behind, but convinces herself she isn't slowing the party down.<br/><br/>Hearing the scream, she doesn't betray that the great crack nearly caused her to do the same. It's the adaptation of a city woman to scream when startled. Instead her heart thumps faster, and a foolish instinct overtakes her. She wedges her quarterstaff into the branches of a tree where Briar is already heading, and uses it to leverage up her heels. How strange that her staff settles perfectly, as though the branch were already curving around it, but it gives her an anchor to offer her idle hand down for the last in line.<br/><br/>"Help is coming!" she announces through the trees.