She remembered the crash, she remembered the hit but the one thing she didn't remember was why. She knew who it was, but not why. Bok'theg, that little creep. That damn warlock, she was going to get her hands on him and when she did, she was turning that jerk into a sheep. Then she was going to tie him up to a tree near Ironforge and let the Dwarves have their way with him. That was the only proper thing to do to a disobediant grunt.

The only problem was, no one knew where she was. She didn't even know where she was, and she had a terrible feeling that something was going to happen to Yagyu the new Warchief if she didn't get to him soon.

She was bound tightly in a box, but she wasn't sure where or how he had done it. There was an agrument and she turned around for a moment. Then nothing but blackness surrounded her, and she came to off and on. Every now and again she would move her head slightly and something would shift in her skull. She worried she was decomposing from being in the box but, she wasn't sure.

"Dark Lady" she wrasped barely. "Help me out of here" but her prayer was never answered, and she always faded back into a dark unconciousness.

Had it been a minute? She wasn't sure. She heard a massive explosion though and tried to move. The dust was surrounding her, penetrating her very being now. It crept around her body, crushing it. Her skin, which at one time she kept supple despite its death and decay, was paper thin and felt like it was flaking away. She was burried and she knew it. She heard something of a fight, and her want to kill emerged as she heard Bok'theg and a woman arguing over a gem. But the voices faded away and she was lost again, lost in a deep darkness.

A minute, or was it ten minutes? No maybe not. She heard yelling and accusations, but they faded and she felt it engulf her in cooldness. Coming too, she could feel movement. Movement? No, it was her imagination, but then it came again.

"Sir?" came a voice and she heard another. "What was that old bastard up to anyway?" came another voice. Then the name Bok'theg was said followed by the sound of spitting on the ground.

"Hhhhhheee" she opened her broken lips to say help, but the wrasp was all she could give. "Hhhhhhh" she tried again.

"Sir?" a confused voice asked. There was more movement and soon piercing brightness entered her subconciousness.

"It's a body!" came a startled voice, and some rushed noises of running. She couldn't see, the brightness was overwhelming.

"Hhhheeeeellp" she managed.

"No" Krag said. "Not a body, a Grunt. A long forgotten Deader, who was boxed and had their head bashed in." he said gravely.

Muerta didn't know it yet, but after they cleaned her off and put her head back together, and belted it sealed shut, Bok'theg or one of his minions had bashed her face completely in. She didn't remember the argument anymroe. She didn't remember who she was anymore, and she really didn't remember what she had done before that day. What she remembered was she was part of the Grin, so much so she was lost furniture and a perminant fixture. She had been in a box, in the back of the cave near Stonard from the begining of Yagyu's reign on. She had remained the forgotten lost relic of the Grin's past.

After they got her initially cleaned up, she felt dust falling in her insides like an hourglass. She could finally speak enough and wanted some information. However, there wasn't enough to make out words to ask about Bok'theg. Not yet at least.

"Sssssssooooo" she wrasped, dust blowing from her nostrils like tobacco smoke. "That Illidan guy, how did that work out?" she wheezed. The eyes in the room widened and she could feel the shockwaves her statement caused. "At leeeasssssst, I can sssstill make an impressssssion." she cackled through her dusty and smokey voice in amusement.