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At the turn of the century, a wealthy agriculturist built twenty of the world’s largest greenhouses in northwestern Redmond, not far from Echo Lake. The giant tentlike buildings, several kilometers in diameter, stand on land that was considered too polluted to grow crops. The agriculturist proved the skeptics wrong—almost. The land yielded amazing harvests of food, but most of it was too contaminated for consumption.
The huge greenhouses were used to grow tropical flowers and other decorative plants until the Crash of ’29, when the backer lost his fortune and the entire project was abandoned. Primarily because no one else had ventured into the area, the lion’s share of Redmond’s metahuman population moved into the agri-domes to live among the wild offshoots of the original plants. The squatters living in the Plastic Jungles are understandably paranoid about outsiders, especially humans. They’re organized into urban tribes and scratch out what existence they can from the poisoned soil. Tribal shamans are working to cleanse the soil of contaminants so that the squatters can grow some of their own food. Those who succeed, of course, immediately become targeted by gangs and scavengers looking to steal the food supplies.
> Ironically, the metahuman tribes of the Plastic Jungles are a shining example of racial cooperation. Elves work alongside orks, dwarfs and trolls to protect and sustain the tribes, and most of the metahumans in the community have put aside their differences in order to survive.
“Norms” are not well-liked or trusted, but the tribes don’t kill visitors out of hand.
> The Plastic Jungles are truly a sight to see. Dirty grayish canopies of bioplastic high over a near-tropical world that is warm and free of rain. The grounds of the old greenhouses are covered with a riot of tropical and semitropical vegetation, creeping vines and exotic flowers in every color of the rainbow, filling the air with a heady scent. The metahumans built tents and shelters out of discarded bioplastic sheeting, wood, thatching and whatever other materials they could gather. If it wasn’t for the contaminated soil and the near-total lack of modern conveniences, the place would almost be pleasant.