Athran pulled his knees to his chest, shrinking as much as one could with his height, and held onto Bane's claw tightly. While they circled through the wailing wind, an idea came to life in his mind. Arrows might not work, but something else might.
He gently grabbed the feathers on the eagle's neck, gesturing Dram to listen. "Tell Bane to fly above the bat and let go off me! I will kill it in mid-air. You'll have to snatch me again before I fall... I have done this before. Trust me!" he shouted, and returned the bow to his back. The scimitars from the couple of crossed sheaths appeared in his hands again, and he prepared to launch himself into the air.
They arose higher to the air, and Bane's claw was only holding him softly. The bat was right beneath them... "Now!" Athran shouted. The reply was immediate - the sharp claws suddenly let go off his chest. He plunged through the air, pointing the scimitars down. He was ready... The wind blew his hair and clothes back. The bat was drawing nearer as fast as a lightning.
All of a sudden, he reached it. He had only enough time to bend his legs and land a bit softer than a chunk of iron, but the fall still shook him, and he could feel his body pulsing with pain. He landed between the orc and the mechanism, skewing one of the scimitars into the bat's flesh. The rider turned around to face him, but it was late - Athran already stabbed him with the other blade into his side. The hand, clenched around a curved dagger, sunk, as the orc's body collapsed, and sled off the bat. The elf prepared to skew the second scimitar into the bat's spine and kill it with a single hit...
"Count to three, then get me!" he shouted. And his hand stabbed the bat into its neck.