The western side of Vralkast is marked by a massive rent in the cliffs that stretches from the surface of the city to the Sea of Sorrows. The Cleft has become the city's center for transport: both the transport of goods, but also people, throughout the city. Kobolds ride giant geckos up and down the rockface, carrying passengers and goods between the various tunnels and stations that adorn the rockface.
The Cleft is also home to many of the flying creatures that call Vralkast home, their dens carved into the walls. One notable cave is home to the behir Ghyrugal, who was convinced to move to the city by a group of Everdelvers many years ago. The behir has helped defend the city on numerous occasions, and all they ask in return is occasional deliveries of sea serpent meat, and stories.
There are ladders, but nobody who lives here would ever use them. They're too slow, too unsafe, the locals either fly or scale the cliff face directly. The geography of the Cleft is spectacular on its own, but what's even more so is what the population have done with the space. The entire thing is a work of art, a mural of various cultures intersecting, each community adding to a vast and breahtaking tapestry; carved, painted, stuck and sculpted into the cliff. Monuments and sculptures adorn every landing, mosaics and paintings coat every vertical surface, and where they've run out of space they've hung more vertical surfaces in the open spaces.
The people of the Cleft will be seen, and they will be heard. It's a chaotic mess, but it's the sound of people living, and living fully.