#anywhere

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And yet, this Duchess' pull is felt as well.. even without meeting the woman, Brekke can feel the woman's strength.

The mood of the land makes her both curious and wary. She checks that her formal garb is straight and presentable after the trod travel, checks Speaker on her hip. "So...how to get there from this location?" she asks Olgar.

"Well" he says "We have some walking to do yet... but welcome to the storytelling capital of world... or so they might tell you. Fortunately, it's off season or we'd be swamped"

American flags flutter proudly from shops and homes alike... it could be any southern town that has done well for itself (Which is an exception for southern towns) forr the pull of tourists has brought wealth..

"Ah. I have heard of this. They host tale-tellers, yes, for a story festival?"

and with that, might be banality if folks trample it... but it is the chimerical side of things that stands out... and just overwhelms that cold gray danger... the stories birthed wander freely. Folk tales given life... modern and old and new twists on same... vagabonds and heroes, pioneers and spectres... yes, even knights and more... Amerindian spirits exist the garou say, well, here they are given forms by imaginations of what they must be like

Olgar says it's not crowded right now, it's not.. well, not with mortals... it's Manhatten busy with figments of varying solidity

"Every Fall..." He says "Costs a pretty penny to rent here let me tell you. Not the Duchess' doing I hear."

She pauses and looks about, taking in the chimerae and echoes. "This...Tove should come here."

"Take it up with Jaymes if you're drafting his wife for tale recon" A grin, "Oh and yes, as you probably guessed, slightly above average amount of kithain here... but when the festival hits? It's Eshu, Clurichauns and satyrs freaking wall to wall. The Eshu LOVE this place."

They move on through the streets... lots of Uncle Sams this close to the fourth, but even here, dreams bend under the weight of anxiety. One Uncle Sam is sobbing in a corner stoop. Olgar walks past him...

"I do not mean to recruit her. But she would appreciate this environment." Brekke pauses at the crying icon. "You weep," she says quietly.

And perhaps it's best not to look... under the chimera's skin, faces form up almost as if they're about to break out and mouth anger "taking our jobs..." another bubbles up "White Males are a cancer" Then another face like a tumor with lips "Millenials are the laziest generation..." only to have another face take it's place and decry "Why can't old people just.. DIE already? Maybe then I could afford a fucking house"

As for Sam himself, he looks up at her sadly, "My family... my family, they won't stop fighting..."

"Ah, Chief, that's what you call a symptom of a disease.." Olgar says.

Brekke sighs deeply and nods. "Yes. Too many nightmares feeding them. I am sorry," she says to the chimera, but then continues to follow Olgar.

Other Uncle Sams are doing better, healthier, less negative influences. One dignified one is pulling a younger child in a similiar outfit "It's only lost if we stop looking for it. " He assures the child in stripes and a tiny hat of red white and blue "WHen it's your turn, you can find it, and maybe learn somethings I forgot." "But what ... what if what I grow to be isn't as great as you?" The child chimera asks. "Dont' worry about being 'great'" The older Sam says "Focus on being Good... it's a more worthy goal anyway"

That relieves Brekke's deep frown a bit, at least. Not all of the red, white, and blue chimerae are hopeless.

"Oddly, the Duchess doesn't live in the town itself..." He says "I think... darn it,, which way.. right, near the broadway theatre take a left..." He says "I am not lost, I a merely delayed"

A clurichaun with a Scottish flag t shirt walks by. The first kithain they've seen.

"Powerfully confused, I believe is the term."

"Pardon," Brekke addresses the clurichaun. "We are trying to locate the Duchess's residence. Do you know where it is?"

"Lost are you?" the fellow pipes up amused, despite his shirt, his accent is anything but scottish, rather a folksy applachin drawl that makes it sound like he might break into a story himself.

Olgar glowers at the L word.

"Temporarily misdirected," Brekke amends good-naturedly.

At the glower and amending both, the clurichaun laugh "Been there myself. You'll want to about ten miles further towards the mountains, ORchard castle.... this path will do... if that's too far a stretch for you, might I suggest I make a call to a cousin of mine? for 20 bucks he'll get you there right quick"

And he does give the address and directions for walking too

"My thanks. Now...I have asked for her residence. Do you know if she is there on this day? Or would this trip be for naught?"

And she listens with the boon, just in case.

"She mostly stays there, when festival's not in season, I couldn't say if she has a court going on today or no though, sorry. Count Bjorno might pencil you in"

"Not that they'd call it such" He chuckles. All true.

"YOu want a ride or walk?" Olgar says to her

"Hm." Brekke considers the options of longer walk or faster-but-cramped vehicle. "I think we should ride. Our friend's cousin could use the business, probably." A nod to the clurichaun.

Olgar may suspect she'd rather not ride, actually, but is trying to drum up goodwill, even in small increments.

"Too kind" he pulls out his phone to text... not that Brekke would peek, but she does believe the words 'get your assoverhere here you lazy sob...and get off your mother's couch. I got work for you'

are on the text

"Thank you, again," Brekke nods to him.

"You are local, then. What do you think of this place?"

"Oh I wasn't always local if you mean the city, but been roaming the smokies most of my life, gathering stories and tales... this place became kind of my mecca. I got a job offer... you know story telling happens all year around here... and settled in, not that it was cheap...bt worth it. I'm Derry, by the way.. joke about cream if you like" HE offers a hand. "This place is the cure for a lot of problems, and maybe the cause for a few of them. If you mean the Duchy as a whole? Oh shoot, mixed bag there... but I can't bring myself to think of leaving for long. The mountains have me.... I'll never be free because they're the only place I FEEL free. I can't explain it better than that"

Brekke shakes his hand. "No need to try, I believe I understand. I am Brekke, and it is good to meet you, Derry." A glance to Olgar, to see if he wants to introduce himself.

"Olgar" the Rover says though he does not give his membership.

"Well, great to meet you both... my cousin should be... ah, here he comes."

The most popular land vehicle in tennessee is a pick up truck, leaving many to chuckle at a stereotype proven right. Of course, in hilly woody country there are reasons.... but the vehicle that comes up is not that, and fits a different expectation all together..

Brekke blinks at the approaching vehicle...and grins, nodding. "Very good."

Pulling over , the microbus RV looking thing opens up. On it's backside is a Bumper sticker that says "If you won't COEXIST- Can I have your stuff?"

The most disheaveled boggan Brekke has ever seen leans out. His plaid shirt buttoned wrong, three and 5 of clock shadow depending on which side of his face you're looking at, and slightly greasy hair. Still, he smiles "What up, cuz. These the folk?"

"yes, this is Brekke and Olgar, all they need is a quick trip to Orchard Castle...twenty bucks for 10 miles.. that's a bargain ffor you so I sure as hell hope the seats are clean."