Several miles tall and hundreds across, to call Dis a vast maze of a city was an understatement; it was a labyrinthine and disorienting place almost-constantly defying possibility, where one could truly wander the streets forever and get nowhere for the effort. The residents eagerly antagonized and challenged visitors, the weak were thrown into the spotlight to be torn asunder, and the Archdevil of Wrath (Kahletia, then Ket Judinor) was the final word of any bouts. A plane of heat and pain, the layer perfectly reflected its infernal master, and the rapid turnover of that position. It was a reality where the forces of fire and earth were magnified, but went a step further by rendering magic of air and water not just diminished, but totally impotent. Any who fail to show caution were likely to get burned in more ways than one.
From the walls to the cobblestones, all of Dis was constructed of the same smoking, unrusting, blackened iron, which glowed red-hot from the infernal heat. Just being near the smoldering metal was enough to slow and drench mortals with sweat, and even casual contact with most exterior architecture would horrifically and agonizingly burn mortal flesh. Without proper protection, most visitors would quickly writhe in the streets.