Adventurous Locale – The City of Sunsets

I’m trying to get a few new ideas written out and somewhere visible for people to give me feedback. This is the first one.

Somewhere close to one of the Upper Planes of existence sits a strange and unnamed demiplane – a world sandwiched between two impenetrable stone disks. Around its edges slowly pass falling reddish stars, giving the world a sunset glow at all times; once one star dips below the horizon, another appears somewhere else along the edge.

In the centre of the demiplane lies the main habitation, the City of Sunsets. Many of the buildings are coated with sheets or leaves of metal – gold, silver, and copper – to better reflect the light at the edges of the world around the city.
It can be an odd place, a hub of trade between the various Upper Planes, a meeting space for otherwise antagonistic factions of the cause of good, and occasionally plays host to visiting delegations from the Lower Planes.

The demiplane is a home to many of the peoples found there, and also to dwarves, gnomes, elementals, and an increasing number of humans. Thousands of souls live their lives in the streets of the City, and a smaller number have begun to live near the edges, watching and studying the suns as they fall past (most of the scholars are newcomers, and often human, of course).

Location might be the main thing drawing visitors to the City of Sunsets, and a great many artists make their home here, but its origins and many of its characteristics remain a mystery. Whilst the City is only a few thousand years old, the plane was discovered by travelling celestials millennia previously, so is potentially older than many of them.
Who or what created it? Is it a natural space?
The stars that fall past the edge, if that is truly what they are, don’t seem to repeat themselves – that is, as far as recordings of them are concerned, the stars are all slightly different and appear at different parts of the horizon always as one departs.
Are they truly stars? Is there a purpose to them? Why is there always light here, and why is it always akin to a sunset on most Prime worlds?
Perhaps most interesting of all, despite many similarities to the Plane of Bytopia with its two opposing halves hanging one over the other, why does this demiplane exhibit a gravity pulling on only one half,? And why do the stars only fall in one direction? The edges fall off suddenly and disappear, but into what? What is the darkness all around?

The scholars studying away at the edges have yet to answer most of the philosophical questions, which might suit many of the different shades of good-aligned folk that visit (since they don’t have to ask some of the more difficult questions themselves).

That’s all I’ve come up with so far. Hoping to find a few other strange locales to populate these posts in the near future!