A/N: Now in this chapter we have a scene split – thank God! Now this is a device that I have commonly used before and I am used to, so I will be a lot happier with this fic and more focused. And you won't get bored following all of them going the same way now!
~Chapter 8~
The young orc didn't know how long they had fallen for, hitting into the cavern sides; he didn't care either. He just wanted to get that other orc off of his neck. He kicked and bit, but to no gain. He had not realised that Ragnäkah would get as angry as this, if he had, then he would have tried to steal the whip a lot earlier and trade it: this was amusing him greatly. They fell into a small basin with water cascading over the edges that had been gathered from the caverns for the past millenniums, and the cold shock caused the two to pull apart from each other. They clung to opposite sides of the basin, gasping for oxygen and chilled to the bone. Slowly, their panting stopped and the glaring began. Silence ensued before Ragnäkah had recovered enough to resume choking him. The nameless one was held over the edge, this time the positions of the two reversed, and he struggled to get away. Inevitably, he fell out, taking Ragnäkah with him once more, and the two fell onto the hard cold floor. This was only halfway down the crevice, and all over the place there were ledges and jagged paths that led only to the impenetrable rock face. The nameless one looked upwards and cackled.
"Let's do that again!" Before he had time to react, Ragnäkah was back on his feet, and trying to pulverise the orc once more.
*
"So we're goin' ta leave without 'em then?" Yutshrug asked.
"Well, I ain't gonna wait 'ere for two corpses to get up an' find their way back here," Grôltakh muttered. "What a fool Ragnäkah is! I thought that with his knowledge and age he would have accumulated some wisdom as well. But nooooo – not our irascible Ragnäkah! Our irritable idiot!" But who will help me guide them now? He thought to himself. Despite all of the names he could find for Ragnäkah, Ragnäkah was far from a fool and an idiot. He had been his counsel even before this journey, and now Ragnäkah was not there for him to give recommendations. He still had Yutshrug, true, but Yutshrug was an idiot – a simple idiot to be more precise. He would always be a follower, never a leader. Grôltakh picked up a food and medicine bag, and turned to his followers. "We move!" They filed into clumsy lines, avoiding the cracks – and the same fate as the nameless one and Ragnäkah – and they trudged onwards. They may have moved silently considering their numbers, but the ambience in the group was deafening, smothering, and fearful. Grôltakh knew that unless he did something soon to lead them out, violence was going to happen. Grôltakh knew that they would rebel.
*
After managing to prise Ragnäkah away from his neck for a fifth time, the nameless one decided that it was time to be serious.
"So… ahhhm, where are we?"
"In Moria," Ragnäkah grumbled sarcastically, whilst unwinding the bandage around his top left arm to use to hold up his trousers.
"Oh, come on! You know what I mean," the youngster grinned. Ragnäkah sighed.
"No, I don't."
"Don't know what I mean or don't know where we are?"
"The latter."
"Ah." A stifling silence developed between the two of them. Ragnäkah looked around for a path to walk along and found something of a sort. He dropped down another foot or so, and picked out a route of a kind. The nameless orc followed.
~End of Chapter 8~