Jointcrack, birth name Daina was born in the summer of ADP 7 in Lorderon spending her early life within the walls before her family settled for Tirisfal as her family grew too big for the city, her being the third child of five.
She spent most of her living life in Tirisfal learning how to cook, tailor, gossip and work up her courage to write a letter to her first crush.
https://youtu.be/BKHmxDoFH2o
However her life would take a dark turn as Arthas launched his campaign on Lordaeron, Daina would eventually fall prey to a scourge attack, and quickly raised back to existence with the Lich king's voice echoing in her head.

It didn't take long for Arthas to weaken and as the Lich king's spell faded, Daina would go through the motions of being undead like many Forsaken has.
In an effort to stay sane she found a role model in Sylvannas, Daina quickly sought out any who could make her a hunter but at the time bow wielding undead was rare to come across, instead she managed to seek out Austil de Mon in Brill who trained her to become a warrior.
It was around this time she began calling herself Jointcrack not only to distance herself from her living self and surviving family, but to embrace and accept her undead fate in a morbid way.

During the Cataclysm she was mobilized and took part in the fall of Gilneas and the battle for Andorhal, but little is known of her role during that time.
Wanting to go home and stay home she remained in Tirisfal Glades after the events of Cataclysm and pursued her role as a Deathguard in the forest, looking for Scourge remnants, mindless horrors and raiding Gnolls.
With her small stature and youthful but dry voice she found it hard to be taken seriously by the many undead that surrounded her in Brill and Undercity alike, regardless to say she didn't make many friends.

For years forward she would be patrolling the paved road between Silverpine forest to Tirisfal Glades, feeling ever more alone, and missing the time she could feel her own heartbeat, or anyone's for that matter.
Eventually during one of her many patrols she stumbled on a rusty looking family manor while chasing a Darkhound into the woods.
Finding it abandoned and in extremely good condition, it having been oddly barred and locked before the owners abandoned she put it on herself to have it claimed and restored to her liking, after a grueling process of painting the insides and getting rid dust and the occasional cobwebs she cluttered her new home with old books and souvenirs she'd got from her brief stint on campaign, some black market coconut perfume and soap didn't hurt either.

For the first time in a long while she felt like she could find peace not being surrounded by death 24/7 finding sanctuary and simulating her old life, the way she wanted it to be in the large house all to herself, often spending days and months inside, only leaving for the black market of Undercity for a fresh stock of scented candles and soap.
Sleeping, reading, tailoring heck even cooking came back to her as if she was alive in Trisfal once more. It was all so perfect, almost.

Eventually she realized only one thing was missing in her vision, something alive there with her.