A native of Chernarus and son of a farmer. During the early days of the outbreak Olson's family stayed put on their property. After all they had survived the civil war, there was yet no reason to think they couldn't wait out another crisis, After the first week he himself started to doubt whether or not defending the farm was a good idea. At this point most of the CDF pulled out of rural areas. But still his family continued to insist that the farm was the safest place to be. One day Olson in his stubbornness decided to head to the nearest town to find out any sort of new information that wasn't already reported on the radio. As he reached the outskirts of town he heard the rumbling of airstrikes in the distance and saw the smokestacks pluming into the sky just above him. He found exactly what he was looking for in a cruel but almost expected sense. As the sun started setting he neared his family's farm and heard gunfire. First one shot, then another and another. He recognized the sound of his fathers rifle but heard other guns as well. He started sprinting toward the farm only to see the house burning and the undead closing in. He wanted to run, his whole body wanted too, but his legs wouldn't as his eyes stayed glued to the flames engulfing his home. It didn't take long for the undead to notice him and he was forced to flee to a safer place, if anything such as that still existed... Olson eventually moved on, In one way or another his life went on. Now armed with his knowledge of farming and the experience gained from his years of rural life, Olson would wander the country trying to find a place to rebuild what he had lost. Whether it be by himself or with the help of a newfound family. And this time he was gonna make sure nothing came in between him and those he valued ever again.