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Doomhammer aion gold aion power leveling grinned. That, at least, was ended now. He had not been pleased at being forced to kill Blackhand. He had been the warchief's Second and sworn to fight beside him, not against him. But tradition allowed a warrior to challenge his chieftain for supremacy and Doomhammer had finally been forced to take that route. He had won, as he knew he must, and with the blow that crushed Blackhand's skull he had taken control of their clan—and of the Horde.

That had left the Shadow Council to aion power leveling deal with. And that had been a pleasure.

He chuckled at the memory. Few orcs had even known of the council's existence, much less its membership and sanctuary. But Doomhammer had guessed whom to ask. The half-orc Garona kismanup had been tortured into revealing the council's location—no doubt her non-orc blood made her too weak to withstand much. The look on the warlocks' faces as he had burst into their meeting had been priceless. And even moreso their expressions as he had advanced through the aion gold room, slaughtering them left and right. Doomhammer had shattered the power of the Shadow Council that day. He would not be controlled as Blackhand had. He would choose his own battles and make his own plans, not to increase anyone's power but to ensure his people's survival.

As if thinking of him had been a summons, Doomhammer spotted two figures approaching him down the broad, bloodied street. One was shorter than an average orc, the other far taller and with a strange shape. Doomhammer aion power leveling knew them at once and his lips curled away from his tusks in a sneer.

They rode on through the city, navigating its broad streets easily. Khadgar did indeed seem to know the way, and never slowed to ask directions or puzzle over a turn until they had reached the palace itself. There they surrendered their horses to some of their companions, leaving them to mind the steeds. Lothar and Prince Varian were already striding up the palace's wide steps and Khadgar quickly joined them.

They aion gold stepped through the palace's outer doors and into a wide courtyard, almost an outdoor hall. Viewing boxes lined the sides, and though empty now Lothar was sure they filled with people during celebrations. At the far end another short flight of steps led up to a second set of doors, and these opened onto the throneroom itself.

It was an imposing chamber, its arched ceiling so high overhead its edges were lost in shadow. The room was round, with arches and columns everywhere. Golden sunlight aion power leveling streamed down from a stained-glass panel set in the ceiling's center, illuminating the intricate pattern in the floor: a series of nested circles, each one different, with a triangle at their middle overlapping the innermost ring, and the golden seal of Lordaeron within that. It had several high balconies and Lothar guessed these were for nobles but also appreciated their strategic value. A few guards with bows could easily strike anywhere in the room from those vantage points.

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