(( 27th November )), 1640 A.C.
This land is beyond strange. The Southern Reach is a wilderness where cultures clash and collide.
When moving here, I was surprised to find many Korami ventured across the sea much the same as I. Some are even from extremely notable clans, far greater than I. Though I had never heard of a Stonerunner before coming here and, as of today, I now live with one. Rott has allowed me temporary residence in a spare room in his basement-- Rott being the local smith and an engima to me.
A subject of cultural ideology most seem to agree upon here in the Southern Reach is that of 'honour.'
Though it differs from person to person, as there is no written code of it, many here cite grand ambitions in these unwritten rules. Duels, agreements and-- much to my annoyance-- the prospects of sacrifice. I am alone here in my belief that life is sacred, especially that of mortal life. In sharing my viewpoint to others that I would rather a person live than die for their ideals, I am mocked for my supposed idiocy. Men would make martyrs of themselves here, just to prove a point in a debate they ultimately lose in their death regardless.
Honour is a word brought up often here, from Valkians, Stonerunners, Korami migrants and even Walljacks. Yet all have spent hours to my aching ears yelling about having no honour because, ultimately, the word has different meanings between the various cultures and factions. What is honourable to one is honourless to another.
Honour has brought more patients to me than any other ailment.