The Jade Dream is still alive and real. Somewhere in Wuh-Zhei, there’s a place built for your fantasy. The Fogland has cool, damp air and lumberyards where you might still own your own business. Little Jade offers rows of tiny houses, each with a fence and a fruit tree. Or maybe you’re just after a hotter biome and a sliver of land to grow your own orchard. The odds shrink every year, but the hope, that hope, isn’t gone so long as the good citizens of Plate Three refuse to let it.
the Fogland
Ancient arcane enchantments keep the northern edge of Plate Three wet with mist you can feel on your skin. It’s quiet up there. You can still, in theory, buy an acre and settle down. The Foglands supply Wuh-Zhei with more than just wood, resin, fungi, and paper: they sell the idea that anyone might join them. If you’re lucky. If you know someone. If there’s still space. Probably.
Fogland Lumber Yard
Once the first megacorp of Plate Three, Fogland Lumber was dissolved after the city’s early building boom. But its name never left the mouths of those who remembered, becoming a symbol of everything that made Wuh-Zhei great. Revived a century later as a tribute to simpler times, the Yard now stands as a living monument to the Senate’s Promise of the Jade Dream: any citizen who works hard enough can buy land up in Jade and live a simple, organic life there.
Today, Fogland Lumber Yard is the generalist of Jade North. A mist fed forest that holds nearly every known tree, grown through arcane stewardship. Bardic Lumberjacks from the College of Groves sing the trees through a quick harvest cycle yearly. During the stump to seedling season of the year, the Lumber Yard produces culinary fungi and industrial mosses. The Northern Fungi carry a regional note so distinct, the slogan practically writes itself: “You can taste the fog.”
Ironwood Randy
When the last Unraveling fueled great Refugee Exodus swept across the collapsing outer planes thiry five years ago, most who fled to Wuh-Zhei arrived broken. Plate Five was flooded with the tired and the poor. One particular bark skinned, iron grained, glass eyed, spell forged wood elemental had no name, no records. The Enforcers wrote him up, naming him Ironwood Randy and moving on.
Fifty years later, Ironwood Randy is a household name. His personal lumber company ships ironwood and ash to Rubite’s forges. His sealed alliance with Silica put his mark on every staff, shield, and spell hilt crafted for the very Enforcers who named him.
The Jade Dream manifest, the refugee who made good. Proof the system works. Surely is there is no cause for suspicion. Surely.
Regrowth Limited
Regrowth exports some lumber, but mostly they process it into paper on site. Chances are, if you’ve ever read a scroll or scribbled a note, it was on Regrowth stock. Their paper is quick, reliable, and heavily Senate subsidized. They boast necromancers who accelerate birch lifecycles. Growing, aging, and withering trees in a matter of weeks to meet the paper demands of an entire wizarding city.
Beekeeper Collective
The Beekeeper Collective is a closely nit group of family co-ops and independent loggers who came north chasing the Fogland Dream. The big three can’t meet every demand, and these smaller yards fill the gaps: Cedar, Maple, Willow, Dogwood. The name? It started as a joke about the hives tucked between the tree lines, but stuck when the bees didn’t leave. Of course, they went with it and now also keep apiaries.
the Everwoods
Where Jade touches Azure and Amber, a few hundred acres remain untouched by logging. Trees that have been magically persevered for ever, the Everwoods. Small local communities live in their shade. They harvest everything from maple syrup to spell lacquer. Exporting essential resin cores used both in jewelry and arcane vehicles. Up in the Everwoods, there is space to breathe.
Mycomancy Holdings
Along the edges of the Foglands, false caves stretch underground, packed with rows of arcane engineered mushrooms and lichen. Once run by scattered families, these growers eventually merged into a single entity: Mycomancy Holdings. Too small to be a megacorp, too organized to ignore.
Mycomancy now subcontracts with both Regrowth Limited and the Beekeeper Collective to harvest the industrial mosses that sprout during accelerated growth cycles. Their yield is refined into alchemical packing foam, humidity regulators, and medical dampeners and shipped to the Grand Opening.
Green Groves
Green Groves sold the city a dream. Work hard enough and you too could earn thirty acres and your own damn homunculus. A few hundred years later and most of the land’s already claimed. But, the old climate wards still haven’t failed. It stays warm here, that perfect warm. And somehow, no corp has bought up all the land. Today, merchants still roll into Port Azure from Ullven with fresh barrels of lemons, trying to sell you your own slice of what’s left. So go on, make lemonade. It’s not conjured. It’s homegrown. The bittersweet taste of Plate Three.
Ullven
The road north ends in Ullven, where crates are weighed, taxed, and passed to the city beyond. Families from across Green Groves bring their goods here (fruit, oils, jams, preserves) handing them off to approved shippers under the eye of the Harvest Authority. It’s not glamorous, but it works.
Thircandulus Orchards
“Thirty acres and a homunculus.” That’s what they used to say. These days, it’s more like thirty permits and a cousin on the Harvest Authority. The land up there is scarce, and the old families hold most of it. Still, the northern Jade Three circle has bucked full Corporatization long enough to assume it always will. So the gates open, kind of. With a bit of luck your personal peach farm is out there.
Heatstroke Valley
It’s not that hot, just hotter than anywhere else on Plate Three. Hot enough that the joke stuck. Medicinal herbs and spice farms cover the valley floor in neat, pungent rows. The heat sharpens their flavor. Some tourists even make the trip for spice tastings, but most just talk about it and buy the sampler box back in Azure.
BloodrootFoci
The southern arc of Green Groves belongs to BloodrootFoci. Their farms grow and bottle the city’s essential organic spell components: mandrake, verbena, sunroots, and more. Once a patchwork of family-run labs, the area consolidated into a single Conglomerate over generations. Today, BloodrootFoci stands as the only surviving corporation in Green Groves. They keep buy rates just high enough to stop farmers from self-distributing. Their patents handle the rest. Everything moves south to their Citrine campus, fully Senate subsidized. Every mage in the city casts with their stock.
College of Groves
Founded when divine magic vanished, the College of Groves proved that the old gifts of plant growth were just a magical secret away for any hardworking magi. Grove Bards have always been in high demand across Jade, Control Weathering fast growth from the forests of the Fogland and the fields of Heatstroke Valley. Entry has become competitive and proud; those who master their magical secrets often spend their lives speak with plants singing greensleeves to green things.
As if being the root of fast growth across the district weren’t enough, the College of Groves is also the strongest cultural hub magnet west of Rhodonite. Harvest festivals, Jade Dream theater projects, even a small illusioplex that screens arthouse illusions from bards still ‘discovering’ their voice. It stands as a cornerstone of Jade life, something for parents to point to and kids to chase.
Little Jade
Of the Jade Three subdistricts, Little Jade has the highest export: plums, figs, nuts, peaches, spell components, and wine. It’s the closest of the three to the Grand Opening and enjoys a warm, temperate moisture zone year-round. Enjoying gentle rains and near eternal growing seasons. It houses vacation vineyards of the wealthy from plate one and two. It has sprawling stable suburbs for any Wuh-Zhei citizen who works hard enough to earn their spot. The air sweet enough that those who live in adjacent Ruby or Citrine will take weekend walks through Little Jade.
New Ghistlin
A thick belt of private lands and vineyards now spanning a full third of Little Jade, New Ghistlin began as a vanity project for a handful of Plate One families who wanted bottles with their names on the label. It’s since become an arms race of prestige, with Plate Two elites buying up neighboring Sunpatch plots to craft vintages of their own. For centuries, the wines stayed private. But in the last hundred years, vineyards sell their premier bottles as a public display of Wuh-Zhei bloodline pride. Who wouldn’t spend a month’s wages to drink what the Senator drinks? Have you tried the Brightside Blanc?
The Sunpatch
The Sunpatch vineyards grow strong between BloodrootFoci and New Ghistlin, like weeds blooming flowers by sheer force of will. In truth, they function as both a guild and a union, with shared guidelines and handshake contracts. But the families believe otherwise. To them, it’s just a neighborhood. Each bottle bears a different family’s name and label. What matters is the wine: affordable and full-bodied. Laced with the woody pride of Plate Three.
BloodrootFoci
BloodrootFoci doesn’t let soil go to waste. Their corner of Little Jade started as a side campus for wet grown components, a feeder branch for the real lab work back in Green Groves. But cheap grapes grow fast here, and cheap wine sells faster. They call it Blood Wine on Plate Five, the box so cheap it’s not even worth stealing. The factories run nonstop. The grapes come off the vine magically pre-fermented. And no, there isn’t actually blood in the wine. They promise.
Ostrigia Vorn Stadium
The Counterspells don’t score often, but they win. Built with private funds from the Vorn family decades ago, Ostrigia Vorn Stadium is a particularly wide, well-kept field where Jade dads take their kids to appreciate low-score wizardball and the value of a well-timed counterspell. This isn’t Rhodonite, where the Fireballers chase fireworks and fame. In Little Jade, the game is slower. Strategic. Beautiful. Ostrigia Vorn, the first ArchMage Abjurer of the Paragon faction, famously counterspelled the gods. Supporting a team named after him is a civic duty. Retelling him countering Nadan’s upcast Sunburst is a rite of passage. It’s a stadium made for the careful, the calm, the ones who still believe a strong defense is good living.
Peachbolt Hollow & Silenceview
The twin suburbs of Peachbolt Hollow and Silenceview run on rows and rows of identical homes, each fenced in white and shaded by its own backyard orchard. If you’re skilled, you can fast-grow a full harvest in a day. If you’re steady, you’ll keep a week’s worth cycling without issue. Some rent their plots from a Plate Four corp with more paperwork than presence. But most own, and many have for generations. For plenty of the city, this is the dream: a home, a yield, a quiet life. Peachbolt and Silenceview are the poster children of the Jade Dream, plastered across recruitment flyers and workplace breakroom walls.
The rivalry is real. When Wuh-Zhei was founded, Peachbolt Hollow was the pride of Jade, growing the fastest tastiest peaches. But Silenceview wanted that crown, and its growers studied hard. They worked their spells smarter, timed their soils better, even poached a few key cultivators. Today, Silenceview owns plum and peach production across the entire city. Peachbolt, on the other hand, is left pushing figs and nuts.
