This metropolis of devils gives its name to the plane. Minauros is also called The Sinking, because the stony weight of the city is forever slipping beneath the cesspool waters. Only the eternal effort of a stream of petitioners and slaves keeps it from finally succumbing to the swamp, but still, the city sinks a little farther into the mud every year.
Ooze rises between the paving stones, and entire streets regularly buckle and shift, becoming impassable for wheeled vehicles. Buildings shudder, teeter, and occasionally collapse, killing their inhabitants.
To gain some protection from the layer’s punishing hailstorms, city builders construct huge stone canopies across the streets and laneways. Held up by precarious columns, these dilapidated canopies add to the continual danger of falling debris. As soon as a chunk of rock or brick falls from its place, a work detail of lowly devils scurries out to grab it for one of the city’s countless reclamation projects. Reclaimed stones are used to shore up the city’s sinking foundations. Sometimes multiple crews run for the same stones, resulting in fights that can end in death or serious injury.
The Sinking City’s major industry is the soul trade. Souls are carted here from the layer’s other major metropolis, Jangling Hiter, for transmutation to lemure form.
Fat-bellied amnizus gather in cafes, swilling flagons of noxious beverages and selling soul futures. Barbazu carters toss themselves onto benches to rest their weary muscles momentarily. Occasionally, numerous soul shells escape from a holding tank, kicking off a frantic stampede when all the devils within half a mile scramble to claim merit points by recapturing them.
Ruins below the city are said to contain vast riches. It's possible that the ruins below represent a town pulled from the outlands millennia ago.