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This time, he managed to grab onto the windowsill. The Tower was old, so the window was without glass, which was a good thing. However, it had its drawbacks: the window was narrow, and the outside was covered with smooth stones. Still, there was a ledge on the right side that he could grab onto, but again, it was about a meter and a half away: he couldn't reach it just by stretching his arm.
Sliirr didn't have much of a choice; it was the only way to freedom. Besides, an angry mage was waiting for him in the cell. Therefore, the goblin had no other option but to jump. Lost in thought, he didn't notice that during his scuffle with Faeanor, he had managed to lose the rope that served as his belt.
While preparing for the jump, which, due to the narrowness of the window opening where Slırr was located, was unlikely to be very successful, the goblin noticed some humanoid figure below: it was approaching the tower on a donkey.
With a single, well-aimed jump, Sleurr killed the donkey, leaving it no chance. Unfortunately, Sleurr himself was not yet in good enough condition after yesterday's fight to perform such tricks, so he passed out.
He woke up later. There were walls around him, and, worse, the grinning face of Peiramal...
After several unsuccessful attempts, Feanor heard footsteps behind the door. Someone on the other side tried to insert a key into the door, but without success.
--What's wrong? Master, the door won't open!
--I see. Step aside! Prisoner, if you're still alive in there, you better step away from the door too!
A loud bang on the door, and with a third strike, it dramatically collapsed, along with the lock and hinges.
"Come on, you'll be useful to us," Feanor said, looking at the wanderer.
Peyramat led him to the very top of the tower, into a round hall that occupied all the remaining space up to the spire. Sleer was lying on a cot, tied down with straps. There was a second one next to it, identical. A helper stood near the wall. --Lie down, -- Peyramat commanded Feanor.