The Darkness Within

(( Since I RP Kohnaana as a *very* tainted Orc -see backstory on character sheet- and am about to hit 60 and Titan's Grip... I'm looking for an RP excuse for her being strong enough to wield two 2-handers, and a friend of mine had suggested her going Felsworn (from the table-top). I rather liked the idea, and therefore I give you this. If anyone has a high-level lock to help me out on this character development I would be ecstatic (not to mention appreciative)
Useful links
http://www.wowwiki.com/Tainted_orc and http://www.wowwiki.com/Felsworn ))
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Kohnaana gritted her teeth as a wave of chest pain hit her. It started in her heart and quickly spread through her veins, numbing her limbs and turning her knees to jelly. The episodes had begun a few days before the Grin's fight at Menethil, and had grown more frequent since. But it wasn't the first time this had happened, and she knew exactly what needed to be done.

"I've put this off for too long," she thought. She had long since outgrown the power supplied by Azrethoc - as well as those of the Hand of Iruxos - and as a result their effects on her had been so reduced that they were barely perceptible. The paradoxical result was that although she was now stronger than ever, she was simultaneously becoming weaker as the fel energies that once fueled her entire being were dissipating.

"Too long I've relied solely on my hatred and anger. If I don't find a new source, I'll end up like those poor sods in the internment camps, stupid, lazy and incapable of fighting..." That was not an option; a fate worse than death itself. But where to find such a source? She had heard that people were going back through the Dark Portal to what was left of Draenor and were bringing back news of a "Fel Horde"... that seemed the best solution for the moment. However, there still remained the question of surpassing her power source again.... "Perhaps a warlock would know what to do... Their kind know plenty about demons..."

Too many questions, not enough answers. She grunted and rolled off her cot in her dig-out, grabbed her axes and crawled out into the sunshine. Another wave of chest pains hit her and she doubled up for a moment.
"I'd better find a solution... fast," she grumbled to herself, quickly glancing around to make sure none had seen her in a moment of weakness. After all, the weak had no place in the world. "Victory or death" she reminded herself as she stood up again, heading towards the stable.

Hellfire Peninsula had done her good, its chaotic energies flowing through her, postponing her regression. Th Fel Orcs as well had been useful, showing her what her race might have been. If only they could be reasoned with, she could learn much from their warlocks. But it had always come down to "kill or be killed" and so there wasn't any real point trying anymore.

And then, something had happened. On a trip back to Azeroth for a Grin meeting, she had a dream. Images of a dense jungle and Night Elf ruins: the Dire Maul in Feralas. In the dream, something was calling to her -something of great power. It had the answer; she felt it in her bones. A pit, some sort of arena. Shadowy figures: warlcoks with their minions. She knew because she tasted their fel energies in the air. An enormous demon appeared, wielding a gigantic axe, charging towards her... then she woke.

She dug her spurred heels into the side of her mount. The vicious Ember Wolf snarled in response and jolted forward. Kohnaana had raised the beast since it was a pup, back in her days in Blackrock, and had taught it the same values as herself: no pain, no fear, no mercy. It was half-starved most of the time, which made it all the more dangerous to whomever crossed her path: ready to snap necks and rend flesh, tearing and eating limbs while the owner was still alive withering on the ground. She sped on through Desolace, kicking up a trail of dust behind her. It didn't really matter if she was spotted - the Ember Wolf could outrun just about anything in these parts The wasteland wasn't called Desolace for nothing, however, and the chances of anyone being around to spot her were slim to say the least.

She pulled hard on the reins and veered south at a crossroad. In a few hours she would arrive at the narrow pass into Feralas. Something told her that time was of the essence and that whatever she was going to meet would not wait forever.