Beneath the Midterra, things suddenly, rapidly, drastically change. No longer do you see stone as you recognize it. Here, all you see is an ocean of fire. It is a constant flux of violent of constant thermal forces. Here you don't get hurricanes of wind and water. Here you get great vortexes of heat. Here you get storms of superheated elements within the magma. Powerful gravity changes, powerful changes in pressure. Powerful magnetic storms, electrical storms, and thermal storms, rage with a fury unmatched on the surface. What's worse, this is a completely three dimensional state. There would not be a safe harbor. It's hard to fathom anything being alive at this point. Except for one thing. The mighty dwarfs! The dwarfs who live here have undergone another stage of physical advancement. They no longer need to breathe and their bodies have undergone such age and pressure from age and travel, that the forces of this place can with hard work can with the determination of the dwarfs be overcome. The dwarfs through their skill their long years and their mastery of the rune art have managed to construct a widespread artificial environment within this sea of fire and madness. Raw geographical glass, forged and tempered to be immune to fire, runed to be as fluid as they need for their construction; producing pocket barriers by which the dwarfs have forged their society therein. So well has this glass been forged, that to look on with normal eyes, you wouldn’t think it was there. You would have the illusion there that you were walking through the fire sea. From the winding tubes that twist almost like silly straws in whimsical displays connect from one great sphere of developed society to the next. Within these spheres, exist artificial masses wrought from primal dwarf stone. Within these landmasses great structures are built, spreading up and out, fusing to each other, connecting to each other in bizarre and, outside of the dwarf realm, unseen displays of the dwarf architectural genius. Utilizing all space they can, yet not with simple efficiency; they display art, cunning, creativity and genius in every little display, in every carving, in every statue or face displayed on the surface of a building or in the interior. Runework here is so exacting and so well honed; they can write rune formulas within the length and width of a dwarf hair. Which is only slightly thicker than a human hair. The building made of not only dwarf stone but of meticulously put together, rune fused gems, heat tempered, and brought together in such microscopic finely detailed mosaic, that you cannot distinguish one gem from another. Although they widely vary, the illusion being that as you look at any of the dwarf architecture, the buildings shift to any color that your eyes can conceive. And this is what one who does not have the rune vision can see. Here, dwarf runecraft has nearly reached its apex; everything here is supported and forged, using incredibly complex rune weaving techniques; to the dwarfs even the air is thick with the runes of their world. They burn in the air, flash off of every building, even the land they step on. This is the environment the dwarfs have built over time.
Needless to say the dwarfs here who have forged this place, who work, live and return to the stone within this zone, are of utmost skill, of great age, great experience, and are highly respected. They are so dense at this point that on the surface, their skin would appear to be black as coal, and their beards would appear to be as white as freshly fallen snow. Here, their skin glows orange like fire, and their beards glow with golden radiance. Their eyes burst with the light of rune vision. Oh yes, within this realm, one begins to see the true glory of the dwarfs.
