Greg never had much faith in the government, it always seemed to mess with where he lived, what he did and what he wanted to do, so when things started getting worse and the corrupt couldn't look after themselves he decided it was about time to flee the sinking ship that was the United kingdom. He grew up somewhat on the streets, he was often out in the woods, playing with mates, starting fires, a bit of camping, and late night drinking in his teens, but what little skills those days gave him didn't really come in handy, as the virus began to take hold he managed to get onto the mainland europe, just in time for the true lockdown to happen. After that Greg stuck to what he knew, his own safety, and prioritised himself and those that could help him immediately.

As it got worse and worse and his lack of language skills failed him further and further into mainland Europe. Greg wandered seemlessly aimlessly, learning the hard way how to make fires, and looted where he could, eventually he found his way into Nyheim, seems things finally caught up to him, and perhaps it was time to make some connections, perhaps this little "pandemic" was more serious than he thought. Then again, he rarely spoke the right lingo to know what was going on most days of the week.