Astaris didn't sprawl. It stacked.

The capital city of the kingdom that shared its name rose from cliff face to cliff face in tiers, each level built on the bones of the one below, connected by bridges that spanned the central chasm where the waterfalls thundered down into mist and mystery.

The upper tiers gleamed with copper domes, marble and glass spires, catching the twin suns. The lower tiers existed in permanent shadow, their stone dark with centuries of spray, their streets more staircase than road.