Growing up in a survivalist/prepper camp in the valleys in northeastern Scotland, Lizzie was raised to be a practical and self-sufficient young woman. She was taught how to fish from a young age, and taught to maintain and repair items and equipment in order to survive out in the wilds by herself. Whilst her elders had established the camp in part due to their own paranoias about the world and its status quo - and the rumours of diseases spreading like wildfire - Elizabeth was a curious and questioning child, keeping the adults on their toes. She was nicknamed "Bunny" or "Rabbit" by her peers, for she constantly kept on the move and always needed to have something to do, whether it was feeding the animals, farming the land or helping around the camp. When she wasn't pestering the adults or working, she was reading books, practicing lockpicking or other small dextrous hobbies.

As the world began to go to hell in a handbasket, Elizabeth - along with many others - would be sent out to gather supplies and explore the surrounding areas in order to keep the camp safe and fed. Foraying further afield with bicycles (rather than vehicles, not wishing to waste sparse supplies of fuel) the travellers took more and more risks to keep their homestead afloat. They quickly learned to keep quiet, and avoid using guns unless in the most dire need.

One fateful day Lizzie was caught unawares in a marketplace by a young man that looked incredibly sick; lunging for her, the man fell and started scrabbling to reach her from the floor. Foolishly, Lizzie tried to kick him away and he grasped onto her leg, biting into her calf. Crying out, she desperately fought to free herself from the man's grasp and alerted her nearby comrades - who before long arrived to save her, beating the man into a bloody puddle on the floor. It wouldn't be the last time that Lizzie bit down on a leather belt, or smelt burning flesh, as one of her comrades cauterised her leg with the knife and treated it with the medical supplies they had found - they had no idea if the man was rabid, sick from the viruses or something else, but daren't risk blood attracting more attention.
Knowing that trying to take Lizzie home with them would cause the group to be far more noticeable and make much slower progress - she was unable to use a bicycle, at least until her leg healed - Jonathan, the leader of the foraging group, made an executive decision to move homeward without her, essentially leaving her to fend for herself.

Before long she limped her way to the city docks as a plethora of ships of all sizes were setting sail - and in some cases, capsizing offshore from overloading. In the bustling flood of folk trying to flee to more remote shores, somehow the young woman ended up on one of the larger vessels. Before long she passed out from exhaustion and pain, and didn't rouse until the ship wrecked upon Nyheim's shores some time later.
Having found that all her belongings had either been stolen from her unconscious body on the beach, or washed away with the rest of the passengers, Lizzie set out by herself once again.