I was born on the brink of collapse, although I have no memory of this. Only stories from my grand-parents, the governments fighting for the finite resources while the general population sat on their sofa and ate themselves to death. My parents died during the outbreak and my grand-parents (David and Alice) raised me. I grew up in Ander’s Holdfast, a safe space where I have fond memories, my first scraped knee, my first love and heart break. I was my grand-pas apprentice, he taught me to farm and build and I had a simple but good life - relatively untouched by the chaos of the outside world, the holdfast had strong defences and an even stronger sense of spirit, but I needed to make my own life. In '57 I heard talk of a city, Nyheim, a place of hope and I knew it was my destiny to go. In '59 I set off, using my skills along the way to gain food and shelter. I would settle in other settlements and smaller communities in the winter months as I was not a survivalist. I may have a kid or two behind me, but my destiny kept pulling me forward. The year was 1968, Nyheim is on everybody's lips. I was finding it harder and harder to find somewhere to rest in the winter and the closer I got the colder it got too. I knew I had to keep going as their was peace and a safe haven from the infected. I've now killed more than I can count and have the scars to show from it. I am now in the Nyheim area, the year is '71 and although there was talk of unrest, rumours of massacres I chose not to believe. I see the death and destruction before me, a city in ruins and my dreams shattered. I can travel no more, I must find a way to survive here and try to settle this land.