The creature was surprisingly fast for its size, a fact that nearly caught Ord off guard. He barely dodged one chitinous blade, his makeshift sword saved him from the other. The missed attack landed in the fireplace as Ord spun away, scattering ash and burning bits of wood across the floor. With fluid grace the demon turned with Ord, a flurry of strikes forcing him back and off balance before he could regain his footing.
His bare foot trod on a burning ember, and he fell to the ground with a cry of angry defiance. It was on him instantly, numerous smaller limbs snapping out at him in the hope of catching his unprotected flesh. He rolled aside, towards the fireplace and his sword. If he could get to it, he might have a chance...
The demon wasn't about to give him the chance. It coiled back like a spring, then launched itself forward at him. He caught its two largest blades on the iron poker, holding it at arm's length with both hands. The chitin hissed where it touched the iron, and the acrid smell of something foul burning filled Ord's nostrils. The demon, held at bay though it was, didn't give up. It bore down on him with all its weight, jaws snapping a handspan from his face. The smaller limbs struck, and he cried out in pain as they pierced his sides. Not enough to puncture vital organs, but it had him now. If he did nothing his arms would eventually give out, and that would be the end of it.
His sword was just out of reach. "Airea take you," he growled at the demon. He wasn't about to die here, not now. He had Gods to serve. Ignoring the pain of innumerable cuts from the creature's smaller limbs, he drew his legs up and planted his feet against the demon. With a warcry like none he'd ever uttered before, he kicked out with all his strength. The demon was tossed away to land on the bed, collapsing it.
As it recovered itself Ord scrambled for his sword. His hands and knees slipped on stone slick with his own blood, but he reached it. He pulled it from the scabbard, tossing the leather sheath aside as he turned to face the creature again, sword in one hand and iron poker in the other. The demon had become entangled in the bedsheets, and in the darkness of the room he could only see its silhouette as it shredded them to free itself.
It turned to face him, red eyes glowing like floating coals in the night. It coiled once more, and as it leapt Ord charged to meet it. They slammed into each other, Ord's sword piercing the chitinous armor of its chest. One of the scythes came down on his shoulder, slicing down to the bone. And then they were apart again, bouncing off of one another from the force of the impact. Ord's sword was torn from his hand, still lodged in the demon, which landed in a twitching mass. It made an inhuman sound of pain and rage as Ord slipped again. He grunted as he hit the floor hard, and a million lights exploded behind his eyes as his head cracked against the stone. He tried to stand but failed, the iron poker propping him up in a sitting position as he attempted to focus on his adversary.
It was upright again, lesser limbs clawing at the hilt of his sword even as it dragged itself towards him to finish the job. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the iron poker, ready to die fighting, but the demon paused. Its head turned towards the door as someone began pounding on it, shouting for Ord. He seized the initiative threw the poker like a javelin. The pounder at the door forced their way in just in time to see the poker strike home. It came to rest above his sword, just below the creature's head. The demon thrashed wildly, and Ord's last vision of it was of armed men rushing into his room, sword striking at the thing that had come to kill him.
He passed out to someone insistently speaking his name, safe in the knowledge that at least the infernal assassin had died before he did. And just as the black closed in, before his conscious mind fled entirely, he heard Jesra say, "Well done, Paladin Ord... well done."