Switchboard Astromechanics

A comprehensive document that tackles the nature and mechanics of the Switchboard ‘Sky’; what we know in our own universe as ‘space’. Considering narratives in the Switchboard are carried - occasionally - with reference too and and within the confines of a grand cosmological stage, it is thus important to define the many qualities of the Switchboard’s cosmology and astronomy.

The scope of this document is the big and the slightly less big;

• Switchboard Cosmology, which tackles the Switchboard at the grandest scale of the vast Switchboard universe.
• Switchboard Astronomy, which tackles the Switchboard at the scale of planets and similarly sized structures.

pNarrat: The Great Sky

One of the original, and most prominent design ideas when beginning work on Samsara was that of a vast, explorable verse, spanning multiple planets, the space between them, familiar locales and far-flung outer reaches; I wanted something big - colossal even - a sandbox with considerable diversity of offerings, where any narrative I’d want to build - at least setting-wise - would be poignantly different from the last.

Part of what inspired this was Destiny 2. One of the parts of that game that was most consistently gripping for me was the diversity of setting. You’d have frozen moons wracked by blizzards, spotted with greeble-textured silica cubes and glass built by machine-servants of a hive mind, and deep beneath the ice, a high-tech Golden Age facility of sleek alloy and carbon fiber paneling. Then you’d fly over across the stars to a sun-scorched desert dotted with sandstone ruins and Egyptian-esque architecture. Then another stellar jaunt away a chitinous and marble castle overlooking a mangrove swamp. Then another, a verdant garden of flowers and greenery and metal and glass, then a black steel war bunker manned by an ancient AI in a red desert, then an entire realm of geometric white marble and diaphanous banners draped from copper struts, then a rusted deep-sea rig installed above a neon and saltwater-soaked arcology.

And in the game, you as a player are tasked with exploring all of these locations in one form or the other, in a variety of tasks and missions that saw you moving from palette to palette with which the environment is painted. Seeing how some melded together and others contrasted wickedly was moving to me as a worldbuilder myself, and I came to not just appreciate the work put into Destiny’s universe, but conceive of how it could be adapted to my own.

The sheer diversity of the locales of the world made me build out Biomes of the Dancirah long before settling to truly complete the document of the Switchboard’s cosmology. I envisioned developing the world of Samsara along those lines, the world appearing vast - even when conveyed through literature - by the variety of its offerings.

For a while, the ‘space’ analogue in the Switchboard - and even now within these documents and in the very canon of the verse - was called the ‘Great Sky’. It was meant to evoke something higher than the traditional sky, that there was something even above even that, stretching farther and deeper, and offering so much more.

Cosmology

A discussion of the Switchboard’s cosmology, seeking to understand the structure and functionality of the at scale.

The Origin of the Switchboard

For now, there is no conclusive answer to this question.

Cosmological Architecture

The Great Sky is divided into hierarchies by size. From largest to smallest, these are;

• The Switchboard in its entirety.
• Wedges
• Superclusters
• Clusters
• Regions
• Cradles
  • 1-2 armillary stars
  • 1-8 planets

The Great Sky by Shape

The current model of the Switchboard is tasked with addressing two things;

• What is the shape of the Switchboard?
• Is it getting any bigger?

The current model that exists answers these questions simply; a sphere and yes. As it stands now, the Switchboard is a sphere in shape, the absolute edges of it being equidistant at all points to the Astrolabe in the center of it. In addition to this, the Switchboard is gradually getting larger, in a very literal sense.

It is possible that later revisions may demand a rectification of this, particularly the latter point. I cannot definitely say what are the implications of the Switchboard being something that is getting bigger over time.

Wedges and Veils

At the top level, the Switchboard is divided into eight Wedges. These are colossal, sector-shaped measures of space that begin at the Astrolabe and share an arc with the theorized edge of the Switchboard. To yield eight wedges, the spherical Switchboard is ‘cut’ across the x, y and z axes, yielding eight divisions of space. The Wedges serve as topmost location designators for stellar ‘addresses’ in the Switchboard. However, they are rarely ever invoked as there is virtually zero interaction between one Wedge and another. This is a consequence of Veils.

Veils

Veils are Void phenomena whereby the Challenger Horizon is seemingly upturned, such that it presents a massive ‘wall’ of sorts in 4D space. These are regions of infinite curvature, meaning that anything that strays too near and falls into their grasp is drawn immediately into the depths of the Void. They warp all momentum to nothing by design, and cannot be crossed by conventional means. Their infinite curvature means that not only will anything caught be dragged into the Deep, it will be dragged to the deepest depths of it, and be lost even to those who walk Isalveh.

This makes them an immense obstacle to travel in the Switchboard, towering curtains in space that cordon off parts of the Switchboard from the rest of it, spanning the height of Challenger Dark to Vitric Shelf. Going around them is often far too difficult as they can stretch in both directions for ages, and going through them is impossible as anything that tries is immediately sucked into the Deep. The most common means of passing a Veil, then, is doing so via the Challenger Dark; you must go under them. If a traveler dives into the Void some distance from a Veil, they can traverse the span that corresponds to it in the Dancirah above, and reemerge on the other side of it to continue their journey.

Of course, this too isn’t without issue. For one, starships cannot realistically perform this maneuver, and so only Striders and similarly-sized entities, as well as small craft can bypass a Veil this way. Secondly is the fact that regions of infinite curvature correspond to locales of immense treachery in the Dark below, as the infinite pull of Veils means oddities from near and far - both within the Switchboard and the dark - are drawn and accumulate just below it. As such, the path is difficult, but the alternative is impossible. Navigating the Sky and the Deep are essential skills then, as the latter is often necessary for performing the former.

The most optimal way of crossing a Veil, however, is with a Void Drifter. Void Drifters can induce infinite anti-curvature to cancel out a Veil’s infinite curvature, the resultant of this being zero, allowing safe passage through the Veil. However, Void Drifters are never in abundant supply, due to the ordeal that is their making.

Because of the barrier presented by Veils and the rarity of Void Drifters, there are many regions in the Switchboard compelled into an amount of isolationism, and indeed much of the Switchboard exists mostly independent of the rest of it, with Cradles resigned to pockets of local space spanning right up until the fence that are the Veils.

Were it not obvious, this is the case for narrative reasons. Much of Samsara’s storytelling will take place within the bounds of Regions, spanning multiple Cradles within them. On occasion, there may be need for characters to flex the Strider Protocol to its limits and make titanic sojourns across the Great Sky, but these are moments of great narrative significance in most cases, and thus few and far between.

Beyond just Veils however, are the Great Veils. These are colossal Veils that are impassable in the Dancirah and virtually the same in the Challenger Dark, presenting a dimension of treachery so flavorful as to be inedible. The Great Veils span a length from the Astrolabe to what is believed to be the edge of the Switchboard, and are what divide the Switchboard into its eight Wedges.

In contrast to the fearsomeness of Veils are the much weaker Curtains, regions of immense but not infinite local curvature that have attained a level of stability, and thus permanence. They and and Veils as a whole are difficult to detect without proper equipment and experience, with Curtains being particularly dangerous as they can fly under the radar of less sensitive equipment, and more careless travelers. They act as whirlpools dragging things into the Void, and their permanence makes them useful as landmarks for navigation.

Link to original

Superclusters and Clusters

Dividing a wedge into more slices gives a supercluster, and cubing up that supercluster gives the clusters. There isn’t anything particularly notable about these classifications, beyond their usage in further narrowing down where anything and everything is in the Switchboard.

For this reason, while the other classifications of size - the wedges, regions and cradles - are often given proper names by means of identification, the superclusters and clusters are denoted exclusively with alphanumeric strings unless otherwise stated. Astro-cartographers being the arbiters of these things have made it so, and considering that the subdivisions of the very large wedges give numerous clusters and superclusters, the task of naming them all isn’t one that any are particularly gunning for.

Regions

Regions are a term used to describe… regions in the Great Sky that are occupied by cradles. Regions are given their names often by the first relevant authorities of the first cradle to define the unclassified space into a region, and as such, regions are subject to changes in both size and name.

The general bounds of a region are obtained by utilizing the center of a line drawn between the two farthest cradles as the center of a circle, and then every cosmological entity and construct within the bounds of that circle are said to be within or a part of that region.

With regards to narrative, many of the Switchboard’s stories will take place within the bounds of regions, spanning multiple cradles within it. On occasion, there may be need for characters to flex the Strider Protocol to its limits and make titanic sojourns across the Great Sky, but these are moments of great narrative significance in most cases, and thus few and far between.

Computing what counts as a region depends on the number of cradles and the distance between the two farthest cradles. While you can have a region with two cradles, most have three, and after a certain distance threshold, two cradles are no longer a region and are instead two isolated groups of cosmological structures.

Cradles

The final classification by size. Cradles are handfuls of celestial entities and structures, defined primarily by an armillary star at their center, with all other structures orbiting around it. Many of the Switchboard’s most noteworthy cosmological structures are contained within cradles, ranging from habited planets to the ancient vaults.

Details on cradles and their contents are elaborated upon in further sections.

Further Notes

Further notes on Switchboard Cosmology.

Further Classifications

Sub-classifications of space exist and are used to define additional spatial measures.

• The Near and Far Armillary Rims describe bounded spaces in the Switchboard with relation to where the existence of armillary stars begins and terminates. Some distance away from the Astrolabe and the shattered astrolabic spheres is the Near Armillary Rim, where the armillary stars terminate as there is no need for their ledgerial influence. At the farthest reaches of the Switchboard is the Far Armillary Rim, where the stars the Astrolabe has made terminate, and some distance away, so does the ledgerial influence of the Astrolabe entirely. Between the Far Armillary Rim and the edge of the Switchboard - or whatever is there, if anything at all - is a vast, starless void; the Post-Armillary Vacuum.

Astronomy

This section discusses the Switchboard’s astronomy, taking a more focused look at its stars, planets, non-planetary entities and constructs, and other things of cosmological note. Particularly, this section discusses the functionality of planets in the Switchboard, and the way chalk has skewed how we traditionally understand them.

Cradle-Stars

The Astrolabe is greatly recommended reading for this section.

Each of the Cradles in the Switchboard - collections of stellar entities and constructs - is lit and constrained by one or a number of armillary stars. These stars serve as the primary source of chalk at a cosmological scale, as well as exerting the ledgerial influence of the Astrolabe over local reality near and far, ensuring that astrolabic principles and enactments operate normally, as well as encoding all that happens within their ledgerial space into ledgers domiciled within the Current.

In addition to this, the mechanics of hyperweave cooling serve the purpose of introducing complex weave into the cradle, this complex pattern being the seed for all manners of things in the Switchboard, ranging from new planets to Teks to life itself. In a sense, the armillary stars incite activity in the Switchboard, keeping things busy - perhaps even a little chaotic.

The Wellsprings

While the armillary stars of the Switchboard radiate pure chalk and violent hyperweave, it is actually quite difficult to harvest chalk from them in any meaningful way. For one, calcic radiance is immensely dangerous chalk that bombards the lattice of all things and inflicts wicked amounts of unravelling, causing most patterns to unravel at the seams and fall apart. Hyperweave is even worse, as the power contained in massively compressed chalk is matchlessly lethal. Even without these two immensely foreboding phenomena, calcic radiance isn’t very information dense, and as such, methods of harvesting it are highly inefficient.

Harvesting raw chalk then, is done within the Wellsprings. When hyperweave cooling yields an equation of little capability to fold chalk into more complex things, it instead becomes a massive information basin that pulls colossal amounts of chalk to itself, eventually reaching a size under which the equation is satisfied. These moon-sized planetoids consist of little else but pure, dense, crystalline chalk, and are in a sense stars themselves. These chalk-rich environments are excellent grounds for seeding the creation of larger planet structures, and they are frequently mined for a litany of chalk-hungry operations in the Switchboard, such as building arcologies, powering fleets, powering non-planetary constructs and supplying structural and ledgerial casts with chalk matter.

Serving additionally as intermediaries between planets and armillary stars, they’ve earned some cultural relevance among the peoples of the Switchboard, serving as the younger deific - givers of life - when compared to the aged, stately, violent prominence of the armillary stars. Striders in particular practice drinking from the wellsprings, a ritual-like practice that sees a Strider drinking the pure chalk of a wellspring to deepen and empower their straits, heal their lattice, and occasionally gain insight into the calcic world.

With regards to that final note, as Wellsprings form, they have a habit of pulling all things calcic to them, especially patterned weave, though this weave tends to be trapped in the lower strata of the wellspring geographically speaking, as it is dragged in first, and then layers and layers of chalk piled upon it. It is rumored even that wellsprings can pull duplicate patterns from the Current itself, and drinking of wellspring water can yield insight from a life once lived by someone else… or being lived by someone now.

Teks and the equations for various weft techniques, as well as ritual schema have a habit of being acquired in this manner, and it further incentivizes Striders and others to drink of the pure white spring waters. Drinking too much however, presents the ever-present risk of overwhelming the lattice.

Some also make it a habit to drink from wellsprings with the aim of accelerating calcfication, having attached some amount of desirability to the marble-white flesh.

Circling back to their astronomical significance, wellsprings often orbit planets as their moons, or orbit the armillary star as a lone planetoid.

Planets

Planets in the Switchboard were previously called ‘regions’, and it is possible they are still referred to as such in the Samsara canon. This is an error, and will be rectified in totality soon enough.

The planets of the Switchboard - colorful marbles on the white-specked black of the Great Sky - are the staging grounds for the majority of the Switchboard’s canon and narrative. Much of everything that happens in the Switchboard happens in the colossal, solid spheres that dot its expanse.

No two planets are identical, boasting differences in size, mass, axial spin, day and night cycle, gravity and boasting differing landscapes, liquid-scapes, weather and climate, biomes, flora and fauna. All of the qualities of a planet are in turn a product of its planetary equation, a complex calcic engine that consists of a litany of sub-equations, each of them responsible individually and in tandem for dictating the numerous qualities that define each planet.

The Planetary Equation

By the mechanics of hyperweave cooling, violently hot hyperweave cools as pressure is released, and re-differentiates into the seeds for complex patterns to emerge. Skewed by the latent calcic - often by available cosmological matter, such as bits from wellsprings or loose debris - the pattern spontaneously evolves, self-correcting as it does, feeding on nearby chalk and rapidly building in information mass, dragging more and more matter towards it. Over the course of processions, it reaches a comfortable size - much larger than the wellspring planetoids - and reaches infancy as a newborn ball of rock.

Maturity is reached quickly. The planetary equation at the planet’s core - tens of thousands of individual equations all doing individually small things - work to yield the bedrock for the final state of the planet’s top-layer qualities. Landscapes and oceans, the ratio of one to the other, climate and weather, the overall distribution of biomes across the surface, plate tectonics, mineral distribution, gravity, soil chemistry, depth of geological strata, the atmosphere; nearly every quality of a planet across nearly every scientific discipline is determined by the planetary equation, folding chalk unceasingly to yield exactly such.

A final skew to the planetary equation, however, is a ‘coefficient of evolution’. Even after the planet reaches a relative state of maturity, the equations that made it up continue evolving, though the rate at which they do so plateaus after many processions. All the same, this variable adds a degree of randomness to every single fold made by the planetary equation, producing subtle - but compounding changes - over time, often only visible to those actively tracking them. This variable is in turned itself skewed by the activities taking place on and around the planet, such as the activities of denizens of the Switchboard who have built settlements and civilizations on it, and the various calcic on-goings in the local and even far-flung Switchboard, the ramifications of any action reverberating through the Calcic Current.

The ramifications of this over time are planets being structures that never stop growing, and in a sense, behave as if they are alive. More tangibly, over the processions, a planet may undergo radical shifts in its geology or biome distribution.

Facilitating the workings of this coefficient is the nature of the planetary model. This model, most simply put, is;

• A solid, spherical, ledgerial core where the planetary equation is housed.
• The planetary matter, making up the bulk of the planet.
• Its atmosphere, a layer suffused primarily with an ambient amount of latent chalk.
• The oneiric cloud, a virtual sky that projects the results of some planetary calculus (elaborated upon further).
• The celestial brink, a semipermeable weft barrier that serves to make the entire planet a ledgerial space. It is upon this barrier that Striders skate when performing the stride maneuver ‘bubble-skating’, and passing through this barrier involves crossing a region of thick latent chalk, which slows and heats up reentering craft and Striders.

The planetary equation makes use of that final quality of the planet to exert its fold-calculus over the entirety of the planet, as well as not to expend chalk extending its reach into the wider Great Sky, chalk it will consume the planetary mass itself to supply. Actions taken on and made against the planet skew the variable that is the coefficient of evolution, as it is a ledger in and of itself. By consulting this ledger when making folds, the planetary equation is in turn shaped by what the denizens of the Switchboard and the planet at large do to the planet.

As a consequence of this, planets both record their history, and wear their history on their metaphorical faces. The ramifications of this are primarily narrative, as it is thus possible to state that the actions taken during the history of a planet are quite literally and tangibly responsible for its state now. Denizens of the Switchboard - through unconscious deed - can grow their planet into a verdant paradise just as easily as they can warp it into a miasmic swamp.

The planetary equation and evolutionary coefficient being chalk, however, also means that talented denizens of the Switchboard - particularly Chalk Ritualists - are able to modify the planetary equation via the chalk ritualism. This grants them control over the various qualities of the planet, though it takes a while for most changes made to reflect on the planet in any meaningful way. It goes without saying, though, that is in an immensely difficult task, akin to removing or adding blocks to a Jenga tower when you can only see the effects of doing so minutes later. It is entirely possible to tamper with the planetary calculus in manner that sets it on a course for annihilation, and to not even know so until it is too late.

Why tamper with the planetary equation at all then? Beyond more obvious answers such as aiming to make a planet more habitable for existing or future settlements, it can - and often is - merely a form of practicing tradition.

The Oneiric Cloud

Even in the earliest days of the Switchboard and the dawning Third Kin, when they had a far less developed grasp of calcic mechanics, the tendency for the planets to change in response to their presence and doings. Beyond the gradual shift to planetary geology and similar, what was most frequently observed were the changes in a ‘virtual sky’ that was projected on the celestial brink. Lacking understanding of the intricacies of chalk equations, the Third Kin at the time - particular the Old Danseers - thought that planets could dream, and thus began to call this the oneiric cloud.

Separate from the ‘real’ sky over a planet - that is a product of a litany of factors, majorly the planet’s celestial neighborhood and atmospheric conditions such as a particulate density, cloud cover and light scattering caused by suspended matter - is a virtual sky in the form of the oneiric cloud. Created by the workings of the planetary equation, the oneiric cloud contains chalk woven into imitations of celestial phenomena that are layered over the real sky, and these imitation phenomena move and change in accordance with further planetary calculus.

For this reason, planets often have multiple apparent ‘suns’ and ‘moons’. In particular, the actions of dwellers on a planet can warp the oneiric cloud as well, resulting in changes such as the appearance of constellations within it to mark important dates in the planet’s history. In particular, the oneiric cloud is used to tell the planet’s local time, as the cloud can block the light supplied by the armillary stars, and instead operate on a completely different cycle of days and nights, with differing celestial bodies for each. For this reason, the oneiric cloud is particularly useful for chronology, serving as a clock via the positions of the virtual celestial bodies. By pulling from the latest ledger appended to the entirety of the Current, it is able to obtain the Astrolabic time of the Switchboard; the time since the Astrolabe first began counting the passing of time itself.

Inevitably, learning how to interact with the planetary equation resulted in chalkweavers being able to alter the oneiric cloud as they saw fit, and as such it became common practice - and eventually tradition - to alter the sky of a planet to reflect notable events, or to alter its temporal periods as seen fit.

The Sil’khan in particular are fond of this, modifying the virtual sky to include cosmological signifiers of the Skydancers as well as other notable Danseer, as a an act of reverence and worship.

Planetary Collapse

The integrity of a planet is a direct product of the integrity of the equations that birthed and maintained it. Over time, the workings of planetary calculus may begin to spit out conclusions that - in the manner in which we perceive things - is poor for the planet overall, resulting in a gradual decay in the stability of it. While not intentional, the planetary mass shields the equations in the core from all manners of tampering, as well as bombardment by undesirable weave that could damage its workings. All the same, over the processions, a planet will eventually reach a state where it begins to decline.

The collapse of a planet is less of a collapse in the sense of the supports breaking, the roof falling in, and everything crumbling into the vacuum of the foundation. It is far more so a gradual, aching, decay, that sees the gradual unravelling and fraying of the planetary equation manifest as a warping of the conditions of the planet it dictates. This results in widespread catastrophe; natural disasters, runaway climate, unstable plate tectonics. The last bit of a planet to collapse is usually its celestial brink, the boundary that the planetary equation uses to know where the planet begins and ends, and effect changes throughout the interior. The celestial brink collapsing is swiftly followed by the atmosphere and the loss of the oneiric cloud, resulting in the planet’s sky winking out - outrightly, literally dying - and being replaced with the harsh light of the armillary stars.

Left without direction, the broken equation folds chalk without reason, expanding the planetary core and sending cascading fissures throughout the planetary mass. Further folding pushes these masses away, out into the Great Sky, the shattered sphere finally losing even that, becoming a dense cloud of often continent-sized debris.

The Gravity Axle

However, there is a second kind of collapse that a planet undergo; one where the broken planetary equation instead begins violently devouring the planet and its entire calcic mass, compressing it down to a measure of immense calcic density. Before a planet’s collapse, the gravity axle is a singular wheel in the expansive gearbox of a planetary equation, serving a function relating to the curvature induced by the information mass of the planet. Upon collapse, it is the last thing left in the cadaverous shattered fields in the Sky.

Mere shards of them are highly coveted for the dense chalk contained within, but they are most valued for their usage in rituals, particularly those used by Striders in creating planets of their own.

They also see common use as weapons in the hands of Depthstriders

Biomes of the Spheres

The workings of the planetary equations yields a diverse amount of effects, most notable of these after a planet’s various numerical measures such as mass, size and effective gravity are its selection of biomes. Biomes are similar to each other in some ways, or vastly different in others, but all are distinct in some manner or another, with many containing unique challenges that must be overcome by the aspiring star-nomad.

Due to the sheer size of the document containing the biomes however, the table has thus been moved to its own document in Biomes of the Dancirah, where it can be referred to as needed.

The Psychitects

A lofty position for a chosen few, the psychitects of the Switchboard are those who train in the manipulation of planetary equations. A very artistic discipline by nature, psychitects earn names for themselves as renowned crafters and shapers of the colorful marbles that dot the Great Sky, and many great psychitects are called upon to shape worlds as their administrators see fit.

Theirs is a secretive order, and their refusal to divulge the secrets of properly shaping planets and their skies has been restrained to a select few family lines. Those aiming to emulate their practice of modifying planetary equations often fail, and those who aim to steal their secrets often vanish without a trace, with it widely believe that the psychitect orders are willing and ready to do whatever they feel is necessary to maintain their monopoly on this branch of chalkweaving.

Further Notes

Further notes pertaining to the cosmology and astronomy of the Switchboard.

Astrolabic Spheres

The Dawn of the Dancirah is recommended reading for this section.

Following the First Praxis War, the Astrolabe’s calculus gave rise to a number of planets of its own making. These astrolabic spheres were formed to serve as colossal calcic computers for the Astrolabe to offload computational load on to. In addition to this, the early thinking lattices that would later become the Third Kin were birthed from the surfaces of these spheres. Serving as both the Astrolabe’s own computers, and the birthplace of the Third Kin, they thus occupy a nontrivial place in the canon and mythos of the Third Kin and the Switchboard at large. The locale where the Astrolabe and its planets were once situated was then and is now still called the Astrolabic Cradle.

The Sphere of Spyndl - where the Spyndl Academy takes its name and where the Old Danseers first arose - is frequently referred to as the Seat of Shalkarah, the First Skydancer, to honor him and the other Skydancers that fought for the Third Kin, and ushering in the era of the Chalkstrider.

By name, the spheres are;

1. Spyndl
2. Aurica
3. Devahs
4. Leydin
5. Endelm
6. Rosenthal
7. Sanscrii
8. Cylindrica
9. Wyntrar

The astrolabic spheres had immensely simple planetary equations, resulting in their generation primarily as vast deserts of pure chalk, littered with structures resembling ruins, but were actually essential components for various calculations performed by the Astrolabe. Study of these fragments of calculation gave the earliest Chalkstriders information on their universe and the knowledge necessary to begin weaving chalk, and eventually learning how to use the Strider Protocol.

When the Refrain came and went, the planets were shattered, though not totally. While individual spheres retain a fair bit of distinction from each other, a ring of highly calcic debris exists around the Astrolabe of today. It has been designated by Striders as holy ground, an essential part of their history and beliefs. While visiting the Astrolabic Cradle where the Astrolabe and the broken planet-ring sits, the immensely dense calcic activity and sacred nature of the grounds has many preferring to steer clear out of caution and reverence.

Each Strider can trace their lineage both to a progenitor family and the astrolabic sphere upon which they dwelt before the Refrain.

For now, the Astrolabic Cradle serves as the basis upon which the Switchboard’s horology is built.

Time and Horology

Time in the Switchboard is the product of the chalk mega-construct known as the Astrolabe, manifesting as a complex cosmological clockwork mechanism whose dozens of oscillating and rotating measures keep record of a number of quantities, most particular being time since the inception of the Switchboard; ‘t=0’.

Early Striders encountered the Astrolabe and through study, they discovered its purpose and behavior. From studying it’s measures they deduced their system of time, beginning from years down to what we call ‘seconds’.

A ‘year’ in the Switchboard is known as a procession, and it denotes a 432 day passage of time, as marked out by the Astrolabe. The 432 day procession is further divided into three seasons, each 144 days long, and defined by varying amounts of calcic activity as displayed by the armillary stars. The Astrolabe in its grand calculus is inexplicably linked to all the armillary stars in the Switchboard, and the resultant of this calculus produces seasons of low, medium and high calcic radiance from the armillary stars.

At the start of each procession is Ast’Lumies, a season of the relatively weakest calcic radiance from the armillary stars, presenting the lowest risk of starblight to travelling Striders. As such, Striders choose to make their longest jaunts at the beginning of the year. Time passes into Ast’Encendyr, the middle season, where the Astrolabe’s calculus results in the stars of the Switchboard glowing brighter and more powerfully. Where they were first merely luminous, they become incandescent, and Striders are somewhat less inclined to make long trips during this period. The final season at the tail end of the astrolabic procession is Ast’Conflara, where the conflagration of the stars begin. They burn with raw calcic force, burning the lattices of all that dare come near. In this season, the roads - as frequently travelled paths in the Switchboard are called - become dangerous to less proficient Striders, and even skilled ones are compelled to be more wary than usual.

At the end of the procession, the Astrolabe resets its calculus and begins the seasonal cycle anew - Lumies, Encendyr, Conflara - in a phenomenon known as the Radiance Cycle.

Perhaps a way to shorten these as used in Strider ‘slang’ would be ‘Mies’, ‘Dyr’ and ‘Lara’.

They sound an awful lot like names. I like the idea of graphical/symbolic representation of the seasons as people.

During the seasons, periods of lulls and surges are also observed, where expected radiance potency dips or swells beyond expected values, and these periods occur fairly randomly as the Astrolabe sees fit to induce due to its calculus. Periods of significant lull can provide windows of travel for Striders even during highly radiant seasons, while surges can forbid travel for a period as well.

One of the results of the Radiance Cycle is that calcic beings surge in strength towards the end of a procession, but the relative ‘strength’ provided to these beings scales inversely with the complexity of their lattices. Simpler beings such as the mindspun thus see surges in their strength, while Striders will see far less considerable boons to their power, further adding to the danger of travel in the later seasons.

Each season in the Switchboard is then further subdivided according to the procession of the astrolabic spheres around the Astrolabe. Each of the nine astrolabic spheres exist in a halo dance around the Astrolabe, and as they orbit it, each spends a period of sixteen days at the ‘apex’ of the Astrolabe (a way of imagining this is if the numbers on a clock face spun rather than the hands, the ‘apex’ would be the original position of ‘12’; at the top of the clock). These sixteen-day spans of planetary apex positioning are what give the weeks in the Switchboard, a season thus consisting of nine, sixteen-day weeks.

The nine weeks repeat themselves in every season, meaning each astrolabic sphere will spend sixteen days at the apex of the Astrolabe three times a year, once in each season. The melding of the name of the planet and the season in question gives us the names of the weeks in the Switchboard, which aid greatly in relaying measures of time.

For example, ‘Spyndl-in-Lumies’ describes the first week in the procession calendar, with ‘Spyndl-in-Encendyr’ and ‘Spyndl-in-Conflara’ describing the tenth and nineteenth weeks respectively. Some phrases used to denote periods of times go along the lines of;

• “At the next apex of Rosenthal.” is the next week bearing Rosenthal as its sphere.
• “That happened seven cycles ago.” refers to the cyclical dance of the spheres around the Astrolabe, and better translates to ‘seven weeks (7x16) days ago’.
• “At the turn of Spyndl.” translates to ‘next season’, as Spyndl, the seat of Shalkarah, begins every season in the Switchboard.

However, Striders frequently contract the names of the weeks for brevity. Contracting the names of the astrolabic spheres, we get prefixes, which are appended to suffixes derived from the contraction of the names of the seasons - Lumies becoming ‘mies’, Encendyr becoming ‘cendyr’ and Conflara becoming ‘flara’. That allows us to construct a table of sorts;

#	Name	Contracted	In Lumies’ (1)	In Encendyr’ (2)	In Conflara’ (3)
1	Spyndl	Spyn	Spyn’mies	Spyn’cendyr	Spyn’flara
2	Aurica	Aur	Aur’mies	Aur’cendyr	Aur’flara
3	Devahs	Deh	Deh’mies	Deh’cendyr	Deh’flara
4	Leydin	Ly	Ly’mies	Ly’cendyr	Ly’flara
5	Endelm	End	End’mies	End’cendyr	End’flara
6	Rosenthal	Os	Os’mies	Os’cendyr	Os’flara
7	Sanscrii	San	San’mies	San’cendyr	San’flara
8	Cylindrica	Cyrc	Cyrc’mies	Cyrc’cendyr	Cyrc’flara
9	Wyntrar	Wyn	Wyn’mies	Wyn’cendyr	Wyn’flara

With a sixteen-day week also being called a cycle, Striders further break down weeks or cycles into hacycles (half-cycles; eight days), quarcycles (quarter-cycles; four days) and oc’cycles (eight-cycles; two days). The Switchboard week is often taken as four quarcycles of alternating periods of work and rest.

Can be further shortened (maybe) into ‘hacycs’, ‘quacycs’, ‘ocycs’. Pronounced and written as hasik, quasiks, osiks and siks for just days.

Numerical measures of time follow the syntax of;

‘Day Between 1 and 16’ / ‘Sphere Number’ , ‘Season Number’

The ninth day in Ly’flara (or ‘Leydin-in-Conflara’) would be represented as ‘9/5,3’. Reading, it goes ‘the ninth day of the fifth week of the third season’.

The procession number follows with ’:’ following the seasonal number, resulting in a hypothetical 9/5,3:100. A transition between processions would see the date count as 15/9,3:100… 16/9,3:100… 1/1,1:101.

As a final note, the sexagesimal system of counting for seconds and minutes remains the same, meaning sixty seconds make a minute, and that much makes an hour in the Switchboard. However, a day in the Switchboard - an astrolabic day, differing from planetary days in that they are fixed - is a period of 20 earth-hours.

This results in an 8640-hour-year, fairly close to our 8762.

We can make a graph of the conversion of certain measures of time to others;

#	Measure	In Processions;	In Seasons	In Weeks;	In Days;
1	Procession	1	3	27	432
2	Season		1	9	144
3	Week			1	16
4	Day				1

The Radiance Cycle

Addendum from the revisions carried out in The Astrolabe.

The Radiance Cycle is a result of fixed, periodic grand resolutions carried out by the Astrolabe at the end of the yearly procession.

When the armillary stars amass ledgerial information from recording the on-goings within their ledgerial spaces, they grow even more chalk-dense and unstable than they already are. As a result, over the course of a procession, they glow even more brightly, and spit out greater quantities of calcic radiance and hyperweave flares, each ascension in ferocity marking the passing of the seasons - from lumies, to encendyr, to the final conflara, where the stars burn with biblical wrath.

Once the end of procession is reached however, the Astrolabe draws, and the armillary stars dump the entirety of their ledgerial load into the Current, which is then fed to the Astrolabe for it to begin its grand calculus, and enact the subsequent resolutions.

The lulls and surges in radiance ferocity over the course of a procession are the result of minor draws executed when sending urgent ledgers to the Astrolabe, or when a star - for whatever reason - accumulates more ledgerial data than is normal, or is unable to dump accumulated date into the current. When a surging star begins dumping its ledgerial data, a week of surge is followed by a week of standard stellar activity, and then a week of lull, where the stars are calmer. These activities also lead to changes in stellar mass and apparent size, which is an informal measure used by many to make guesses and estimations on when the next surge or lull will take place.

Non-Planetary Super-Structures

A Cradle within a region can contain a number of celestial objects. At base they contain;

• An armillary star or multiple.
• Wellspring planetoids.
• Full planets.

However, there are a number of things that also exist in Cradles; non-planetary super-structures and constructs either built and place there by denizens of the Switchboard, or arising by virtue of some other mechanic or force;

• The Astrolabe itself
• Vaults
• Orbital Installations
• Free-standing Installations
• Interstellar Fleets
• Defunct Fleets
• Debris and Asteroid Fields
• Vitric Jaws
• Defunct First Thinker Nexuses
• Vermeil/Second Thinker Ruins and quite a bit more than even that.

Objects of Note

Contained here are celestial objects of note in the Switchboard.

The Panopticon

A truly bizarre creation, the Panopticon was formerly a Vault in the Switchboard situated near a gaping jaw to the Vitric Shelf. The vault was krashed and Striders began a litany of experiments with it, due to the nature of one of its defenses; a seemingly infinite labyrinth of cell-like rooms that to many, would prove inescapable. As their experimentation generated massive quantities of information and created a considerable amount of calcic activity, the nearby jaw grew towards it, and aimed to swallow the vault whole. However, it proved unable to do so, resulting in the jaw jammed shut with the structure, but the vault itself now straddling the divide between the Sky and the Vitric Shelf.

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The Vaults

The Vaults are an interesting oddity in the Great Sky, the Dancirah. Created by the Eradication Imperative and watched over by the Interdiction Collective, the Vaults served as a means to contain the wreckage and ruins of the Second Thinkers’ civilization; the Vermeil. When the Third Thinkers waged their various successful campaigns against the Minds, they fled and took refuge in the Vaults to avoid extermination. The Slates and the Breach Protocol wielded by Striders, however, proved formidable weapons against the Vaults, and Striders in endeavors known as ‘Kache Krashing’ would breach a Vault’s security and gain access to the ancient, wondrous things contained within.

Preamble

It is worth pointing out that there are two major kinds of Vaults when classified according to time period; these are the Interdictory Vaults and the Emergent Vaults.

Interdictory Vaults served and still do serve as the dumping ground of the remains of the Vermeil civilization, and the Minds and contents within are immensely old, the chalk matured having existed and soaked up the natures of the Switchboard for many processions. These Vaults are particularly treacherous to krash, as the Minds within have been fighting Striders for longer than most. They also contain the most valued rewards; bits from the Vermeil civilization, ancient Teks and secrets, valuable hexic kacherock and more.

The Emergent Vaults began to manifest sometime after the dawn of the Chalkstrider Era.

The Emergent Intelligences

Conditions in the Switchboard may induce the creation of Emergent Minds, elementary calcic intelligences that arise through the folding of chalk under rigorous self-correction mechanism and selection. They cannot live very long without vessels however. Coincidentally, what often causes these Emergent Minds to emerge is the presence of objects and oddities with specific kinds of very dense pattern, the kind that forms primarily in objects that are very old and/or have seen use in the hands of Striders and Weavers. These objects are usually denoted as Relics. Emergent intelligences that arise around them usually emerge with singular prime directive, a doctrine; protect what it is that brought them to be. This is accomplished by the construction of a Vault, which serves as both protection for what caused the intelligence to arise, as well as a body for the intelligence itself. Often, the first few ‘building blocks’ of the Vault spontaneously evolve as well, granting the emerging intelligence a baseplate upon which to build. This is further elaborated upon in SB_Astromechanics.

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The Emergent Vault Minds

A most peculiar behavior was observed exhibited in the Switchboard, by the mechanics of spontaneous equations described in The Hands as Chalk, certain oddities in the Switchboard would induce the evolution of elementary calcic intelligences in their vicinity - called Emergent Minds - resembling the First Thinkers. Occasionally, oddities in the Switchboard would find their way into Vaults as well, either swept up in chalk currents into them, or captured by the Vault Minds for study. In the case of newly-evolved Emergent Minds, they arise with a singular prime directive in the form of a doctrine; preservation of whatever it is that induced their inception. Thus, these ‘new’ First Thinkers think almost identically to the initial First Thinkers, and in particular the Interdiction Collective, and begin constructing Vaults to protect the object that brought them into existence. This thus results in two kinds of Vaults; old Vaults created by the Interdiction Collective, and younger vaults created by spontaneously-evolved Emergent Vault Minds.

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The Emergent Vaults and Vault Minds thus containing objects of interest in much more recent memory; a legendary Strider is buried with their equipment, the planet they are on decays and shatters, and all their relics are scattered across the Dancirah. As they float through interplanetary space, elementary intelligence forms from it, and it is charged to protect it at all costs. Around it, a mega construct emerges; a Vault designed to protect both it and the emergent Vault Mind.

While these Vaults don’t frequently yield rewards made powerful by their age and source, they are still worth plundering, as a way of recovering the lost powers of a couple generations prior.

While Interdictory and Emergent Vaults share key differences, the Minds presiding over each are collectively known as ‘Vault Minds’, with distinctions only being made when trying to deduce the potential threat and rewards of a prospective kache krash.

Anatomy of a Vault

Vaults are physical, three-dimensional constructs existing in interplanetary space. Though they very immensely in shape and size, they typically take the shape of an irregular three-dimensional solid (such as a tetrahedron but skewed). Almost always are Vaults shielded, and entry is only possible by disabling the shield. Entry into the Vault itself is done through purpose-built entrances or structural imperfections such as cracks in boundary walls.

Where Vaults vary immensely is upon entry. Vaults at their very elementary are labyrinthine, consisting of three-dimensional mazes of rooms and corridors and very many dead-ends. Employment of the y-axis in Vaults (verticality) results in these labyrinths presenting an immense spatial challenge to all entrants, with navigation ultimately being an immense ordeal. As though the labyrinths were not challenge enough, traversal through them is not unimpeded, as prospective vault-raiders will find themselves contending almost immediately with the Vault Mind.

Encountering the Vault Mind

Be it First Thinker or newly emerged, all Vault Minds are calcic intelligences, given rise to by the various mechanics of the Switchboard. The Vault Minds differentiate themselves from other calcic intelligences primarily through doctrine; all Vault Minds emerge with a prime directive - that of protection. Protection of ‘something’, often what caused them to arise in the first place. This manifests as the creation of massive constructs that occupy the Great Sky - known as Vaults - the Vault Mind within tasked with protecting the Vault and preserving what lies in it. This it does with a litany of mundane and esoteric weaponry and countermeasures, ranging from its army of autonomous robots known as Chromelings, elementary projectile weapons, all the way up to caedometric weapons designed to lacerate lattices and doctrinal weapons that wage war with a Strider’s very core.

The core conflict between Striders and Vault Minds is waged at the doctrinal level. Vault Minds seek to protect and preserve, while Striders seek to breach and plunder. With nothing to protect, the Vault Mind fails to uphold its doctrine, and ceases to exist as a result. As such, just as Striders will use everything in their arsenal to break into Vaults, the Vault Minds within will employ every tactic they possess to frustrate their efforts.

Vault Minds fight for their own kind of survival, and they do so by taking all manners of measures - including communicating with other Vault Minds and direct attacks on Strider interests - to ensure that continued survival.

‘Kache-Krashing’

Opposing a Vault Mind is done using the Slates and the Breach Protocol. The elementary sequence of breaching any Vault is three-fold; breaching the Glasswall, disabling its shield, and destroying its external defenses.

Once these are performed, physical entry into the Vault can be secured. Once a team has entered the Vault, it is then a race between the team’s Glassbreakers and the Vault Mind. Slates are used to blunt and counter the Vault’s many defenses, divine paths through the labyrinth, and secure additional edge for the team of kache-krashers along the way.

The final reward of a Vault is defended by the Vault’s strongest defenses and the avatar of the Vault Mind, heavily armored against all manners of offense and bristling with weapons. Most dangerous however, is how Vault Minds maintain the final chamber - where the object of the Vault’s security is kept - locked and inaccessible; using a structural cast that serves as a sort of elaborate combination lock. This ‘lock’ must be ‘picked’ by the krashing team weaving themselves into the ritual and defusing it by exploiting vulnerabilities or using any other methods at their disposal. However, it must be done without triggering a ‘fail state’ (similar to how actual Vaults can detect their internals being tampered with and set off alarms).

Failing to defeat a Vault Mind and defusing the structural cast under the terms set by both triggers the equivalent of a phenomena in MMO games commonly described as a ‘wipe’. The cast resolves itself along parameters established by the Vault Mind, and the vault krashers are unraveled at the lattice level - before they are then purged from the Vault into interplanetary space outside. The resolution of the cast reactivates the Vault’s shields and various defenses - ‘resetting’ it, almost.

Particularly tenacious Striders may feel inclined to attempt breaching the Vault again, and there is even an argument for doing so as knowledge of the Vault gleaned from the first run is invaluable for a hypothetical second go. However, Vault Minds obey similar logic, and will be prepared for a repeat raid by the same team. Particularly powerful Vault Minds may passively ‘scan’ and simulate the lattice of a krashing team, and use it to concoct a target-specific unravelling weapon, capable of obliterating a Strider in mere seconds upon entry. Of note is that a Vault Mind would also have learned of the various tools employed by the Breach Protocol to gain entry, and will thus devise defenses against them to frustrate future raiding efforts.

As such, when a Krash Operation (or KrashOp) is failed, the same team typically admits the defeat, marks the Vault as ‘hot’ for other potential teams, provides or sells information to interested parties, and ultimately moves on.

Vaults as Ledgerial Spaces

An addendum following the development of The Astrolabe.

The many powers possessed by a Vault Mind and the oddities and quirks inherent to it are, in fact, a product of the Vault being immersed in a ledgerial space. The shield that a vault possesses serves to cordon off the vault from the rest of the Switchboard, and declaring the space within the shield a boundary. Within this boundary, the Vault Mind imposes the ledgers it has written, made possible by being a creation identical to the earliest calcic intelligences, and being a creature of instinct powered by raw doctrine.

Within the ledgerial space of the vault, attacking kache krash teams must contend with the many offensive and defensive measures employed by the Vault Mind, including its ability to warp space itself, further complicating the task of traversing a vault.

Failing to default a Vault Mind triggers ledgerial writ that purges the attacking force from the limits of the boundary. But chief among the powers granted to a vault by virtue of it being a ledgerial space is the target-specific unravelling weapon. As a being - such as a member of an attacking team - dwells within the confines of a vault, the nature and construction of its lattice is gradually written to a ledger. Should the subject attempt to infiltrate the vault again, the ledger is weaponized and used to concoct a weapon, which targets the subject and destroys their lattice utterly - a near-guaranteed instant-kill maneuver.

Plunder

What are the rewards for successfully defeating a Vault Mind, defusing the cast in place, and accessing the final chamber?

Without even reaching the final chamber, dwelling in a Vault and drinking of its ancient chalk and the secrets it holds seeks to ‘mature’ the the lattice of a Strider, empowering all calcic powers they are capable of. Studying the architecture and murals of the Vault provides information about the early Switchboard and Chalkstriders, other oddities in the Switchboard etc. Destroying the Vault’s defenses yields useful technology that can be reverse-engineered for a Strider’s purposes.

The actual treasures of the Vaults as contained in the final chamber are far greater and more tangible than these however; ancient knowledge and technology utilized by the Vermeil, slightly less ancient teks and relics wielded by old Chalkstriders, powerful ritual schema, maps to lost frontiers, tomes of knowledge and secrecy, and far more. Vault rewards almost always justify the ordeal of securing them, and infamous Striders are often skilled and practiced Kache Krashers.

pNarrat: The Denizens in Space

The denizens of the Dancirah interact with interplanetary space as a matter of course, it being an integral part of their lives ranging from economics to religion to politics. Many facets of cross-Danciran civilization have thus been elevated to take place on interplanetary, intercradular (between cradles) and interregional space. However, a final, universe-spanning classification of space exists, with regards to the parts of Switchboard sky controlled by a litany of governing authorities, and ‘free’ space controlled by ‘none’; the Overseen Sectors and the Starwylds.

The Overseen Sectors are regions of space governed by various authorities, ranging from planetary, cradular and regional administrators to fleet commanders, extraplanetary installment administrators, DevitNet Netmasters, Arcology governments, and more. Each of these authorities exert their influence over a slice of space, and impose their rules and sanctions for breaking them. Often, they are a relative force for some form of stability in the Switchboard, with nearly all of these authorities generally working to ensure no elements - living or otherwise - can disrupt operations in the Dancirah, especially in the spheres of travel and economics. Much of their imposition is done via the usage of standing paramilitary assets, as well as a variety of technologies to adequately monitor space and project force.

The Starwylds or the Wylds, on the other hand, describe space governed by none, or only informal authorities. Often, overseen sectors are interspaced by the vastness of the Starwylds, and sojourns across the Dancirah almost certainly require jaunts across it. Out in the Starwylds, the rules are written by you and those you meet, and with no overarching authority maintaining decorum, things out in the Wylds can get messy fest. However, to many, the Starwylds are a place to reap economic success, acquire and hone skills, face opponents, build repute and a name for one’s self, and generally live the idealized life of one blessed with the power to traverse the Switchboard.

The Void, Astromechanics

No discussion of the workings of Switchboard space would complete without thoroughly addressing the Void and the effects it has on the Great Sky above it. This is tackled in full in the Void as a phenomenon.

Celestial Events

Akin to weathers on a planet, celestial events are periodic phenomena that occur in the Great Sky. They have varying effects on locales of the Great Sky neighboring celestial bodies, and are in particular a concern for the Switchboard’s frequent travelers and nomads.

Master List

Subject to future expansion.

• Flux Storms
• Calcic Streams
• Stellar Processions

Flux Storms

Flux Storms

Flux storms are a Void phenomenon used to denote instances of immense spatial fluctuation, such that gravity loses all coherence, and space becomes treacherous. They are caused primarily by the interplay of massively info-dense phenomena such as planets, armillary stars, onina eruptions in the Challenger Dark proper, or the random bouts of spatial instability that plague the Challenger Horizon and the sky of the Deep. Should these phenomena yield spatial instabilities that are able to perpetuate and propagate themselves, remaining fairly stable for an extended periods, a flux storm is formed.

Flux storms being regions of immense spatial distortion makes them incredibly dangerous. Typically, flux storms span the lower Dancirah, the Challenger Horizon, and the upper skies of the Void, with the fluctuations within them distorting the altitude and curvature of the Void in a given locale. As a consequence, anything on the Dancirah side caught in a flux storm can and often will be flung down into the Deep, be this Strider, jumpship or more. Similarly, things close enough to the Void’s ceiling can be flung upwards into the Dancirah. Entering a flux storm is risky either way, however, as they tend to be filled with discordant information and liquid stardrip, which can have adverse effects on anything calcic caught within it.

Flux storms are believed to have begun as a result of the Switchboard as a whole becoming more information heavy, and thus causing greater discrepancies between the points of curvature and ‘flatness’ on the plane between Sky and Deep. Slight distortions of this curvature could compound and cascade, causing self-sustaining loops of gravitational distortion; a flux storm. The Astrolabe happened to use these a sort of ‘recycling mechanism’, as excess complex/woven chalk would be ‘purged’ from the Dancirah above and vented into the Void below, where Void processes would recycle complex pattern back to plain, unwoven chalk and return it back to the Dancirah - a process known as the Stardrip Cycle.

Flux storms themselves vary quite a bit, with some being minute and short lasting - mere blips on a radar - and some being colossal, permanent fixtures of the Dancirah. It has been the case that flux super-storms have devoured moons, planetoids, entire planets, or even armillary stars, as the Astrolabe has long sine lost total control over this phenomena. The bulk of the Void’s material mass - what makes up the landmasses within it - is the product of planets lost to flux storms. It is also the case that turbulence in the Void below can induce flux storms above, and the ability to artificially induce flux storms is both very real and has been utilized in the past. A well placed flux storm can wreak havoc on a passing fleet, something of note for later segments.

Considering that the spatially turbulent nature of flux storms can rapidly sap the momentum of anyone caught within them - particularly unlucky Striders - conventional wisdom dictates that you never attempt to Stride through a flux storm, but that has not stopped many a valiant storm-chaser from pursuing these locales where the boundary between the Sky and the Deep is thinnest, and one may glean something - perhaps even take something - from the churning depths of the Void without truly falling in.

Flux Rifts

Perhaps as a resultant of flux storms, or an offshoot phenomenon, or something else entirely, are flux rifts. Flux rifts exhibit much the same mechanical origins as flux storms, and many of their behaviors, but are unique for being areas of immense - but stable - spatial distortion. Stable enough, in fact, that they can and are often used for safe travel to and from the Void.

Flux rifts are particularly noteworthy two major quirks of their existence. For one, the fact that the Challenger Horizon is immensely thin at their centers, meaning that anything passing through them suffers far less from contact with stardrip, which is arguably one of more immediate threats that face those who aim to enter the Void. In space, they appear quite similar to blackholes in our cosmology. Second is the fact that flux rifts passively regularize the turbulence of space in their vicinity, spanning over a varying, but typically colossal amount of space. This allows for predictable patterns in spatial distortion, allowing for much safer travel near and even fairly far away from them. More importantly, however, is that the wave-like ‘high’ and ‘low’ spatial tides they generate can be latched on to by various iterations of the riftlock, a device used for inducing immense local curvature and shunting anyone and anything in its vicinity into the Void in a manner that minimizes the users’ exposure to stardrip. Their efficacy is conditional upon the nature of local space, and distorted, irregularly-fluctuating space makes riftlocks far less reliable.

It goes without saying, then, that flux rifts are of immense importance in the Switchboard, and it is often the case that flux rifts are actively controlled by various named powers. Their behavior can be interfered with and controlled using bot technology and ritualism, and it is often the case that their existence is either monetized or weaponized as the case may be.

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Whitestreams

A periodic event defined by the movement of vast quantities of chalk through the Great Sky, dense enough to even sweep away Striders caught in its flow. It is great streams such as these that wracked and bombarded the Switchboard when the Refrain struck, these streams tearing apart planet and wellsprings alike, turning them to calcic slurry.

Often, when many stars in a region begin dumping their ledgerial load, a whitestream forms between them, gathering up the contents of the ledgers, travelling some distance to pick up more information from other stars - before finally vanishing into the Current.

In passing through so many corners of the Great Sky, they pick up a number of things that are of interest to Striders; Relics, Teks, rituals, information useful in other ways such as the locations of distant, uncharted regions. Striders are incentivized to tap from these streams, gaining useful bits as they do. Even if nothing particularly significant is acquired, drinking from the pure Chalk of a stream revitalizes Striders, keeping their information keen for ages afterwards.

Stellar Processions

The practice of Wayfinding is recommended reading for this section.

Occasionally, armillary stars in the Great Sky have cause to move. A lone star or constellations of them - with no warning whatsoever - simple shed a massive amount of their information mass, and then set on a trajectory to another corridor of the Switchboard. Sometimes they amble only a bit away, other times they can cross over to another supercluster. In any case, it is a significant event to the denizens of the Switchboard.

As with many things, it is primarily the cause of Astrolabic calculus; that on occasion, rather than seed the formation of a new star, the Astrolabe simple sets another star to move where it would’ve been formed instead.

That aside, Stellar Processions being groups of stars on the move, presents an issue for those with Starcharts that marked paths and hazards based on their original locations. Old routes that required bubble-skating off certain planets cease to exist, and distances between points of interest shrink and widen. Some processions are seasonal, and simply an issue of using the seasonal Starcharts as necessary. Some processions are random however, and create work in charting new paths for Striders to use.

“If Stars can move, how do you keep track of which is which?” Tracking Stars is done via two means: sequencing their pulse patterns, and following the trails they leave behind as they move.

The first is that stars have a unique ‘signature’ that can be sequenced by monitoring the patterns in it’s inconsistent rate of Chalk output. The star varies in the rate at which it outputs Chalk, such as five seconds of full (100%) output, thirteen seconds of 45% output, and nine seconds of 10% output, creating a sequence that looks something like (5/100, 13/45, 9/10).

This are functionally pulsars in our world, which are indeed used for identifying and tracing stars like this.

The second is that stars as they move - much like how chalk leaves white streaks on a blackboard - leave streaks in the Sky. These trails are pure Chalk - stellar material - lingering in place, and following them can lead right back to the Star.

These events are particularly significant in that they are one of the few times where denizens of the Switchboard can harvest stellar material, and the shedding of stellar mass primarily takes the form of hyperweave flares, meaning moving stars leave all manner of evolving complex weave in their wake.

The Edge of the Switchboard

A question posed by many is whether the Switchboard is finite. If one chose a direction and utilized the Strider Protocol to head in that direction for as long as they could, what would occur when they reached whatever lay out there, assuming anything even did?

It has led to many schools of thought that pose various examples of what they believe could be out there;

• A Veil so dense that not even Void Drifters can cross it, corresponding with an infinite, impassable sea in the Challenger Dark. No Chalkstrider can move fast enough to escape the matchless pull of the spatial distortion, and no Void Drifter can chart a path through those depths without inevitably being destroyed by whatever they hold.

• That the Switchboard is in fact, wrapped back in upon itself, and that reaching any point on the edge of the Switchboard results in emerging on the mirroring side across the Dancirah. Any linear trajectory that starts from the center of the Switchboard - the Astrolabe - and moves away from it would eventually reach the edge and then be wrapped back in, such that the trajectory is now heading towards the Astrolabe where it began.

• The edge of the Switchboard can’t be reached at all, and some quirk of ontology results in any distance covered demanding even more distance covered, stretching outwards into an unknowable infinity.

• Glass. There exists an idea that the Vitric Shelf above the Dancirah also encloses its sides, as though wearing the plane like a hat. At the end of the Switchboard is simply a wall of negentropic Glass, any interaction with it being swiftly punished by a restructuring of the lattice.

• Inevitably, there are many theories about the edge of the Switchboard containing all information there is or the means to grasp it, and of course the theory that what is out there immediately kills whoever comes to see it.

All of these theories remain unproven however, do to a simple fact that there is no real means to reach the edge of the Switchboard.

This is a result of the fact that long before one reaches the edge of the Switchboard, they reach the Far Armillary Rim the point in Switchboard space where stars abruptly terminate. Just outside the Far Armillary Rim is the point where the ledgerial spaces of the last stars thin out and finally cease, and beyond this point, Astrolabic laws - such as the Strider Protocol - no longer function.

Even if one launched out from within the Rim at considerable stride velocity, they would inevitably slow as the space-curving effects of the Void exist far past the point where stars end; Depthstriders having far more sea than Chalkstriders have stars. The result of this is that any and all travelers inevitably slow to a crawl, then to rest, and the lack of any nearby objects to exert gravity - and the inability to begin striding again - means any travelers out there will be stuck, suspended in the empty black of space.

Beyond the Far Rim, the latent chalk is so thin that any spacefaring vehicles that somehow manage to function without Astrolabic principles will inevitably run out of fuel. And there exists no conclusive information on how much fuel is needed to make the journey, as none have returned and there is no means to send information back - not even via the DevitNet, as the roots of the Anarhiza do not stretch that far.

The final verdict on the edge of the Switchboard is that the effort and resources required to obtain the answer of what lay out there is prohibitively colossal, prohibitive enough as to thin the crowds of those attempting to find an answer to only the truly insane.

The one theory that all agree on regarding the matter is that the realized power from obtaining an answer to this question pondered by so many, would be enough to elevate the discoverer to nearly deific status. And this promise alone is enough to keep many chasing whatever lies at the elusive edge.