Raised in a rough household in Nyheim, I was kept isolated from the outside world, rarely permitted to even go to the front yard. My parents didn't want me exposed to disaster, but their strict impulses affected my behavior. As I grew and began to think more independently, I also grew more curious. Eventually this urge caused me to leave home in my father's truck. Not knowing what I might encounter, I came prepared with a Kolt1911 I received on my 18th birthday. I've always had a secret passion for weaponry and craftsmanship, and I knew I may need it to protect myself. When I first began to roam around and freely drive, exploring the outside land as if it were my own, I stumbled across a car that had almost been blown to shreds. A few feet away, the car was accompanied by a corpse at the end of a trail of blood leading up the shattered windshield. As I placed my hand on the car door, I heard a groan come from the man laying on the concrete. I had just heard a dead man groan... I went to investigate and asked him if he was okay. He looked up at me, his eyes blackened and layered with thin yellow. He grabbed my ankle and tried to bring me down. I stepped on his wrist and ran to my car and drove home as fast as I could. When I arrived, nobody was home. This meant it was up to me to survive. Eventually, I started running low on supplies. I had no choice but to explore the land myself and really figure out what's ahead of me. That's where I am now, exploring and familiarizing myself with an unusual terrain, in hopes of finding food, water, shelter, or even my family.