Huladuras stood before a mighty beast now, seemingly having just finished with another less fortunate soul than himself. But, rather than listen to the creature, Huladuras simply looked down at himself, extending his free, left hand forwards to inspect it. It was marked by flame and ash, scorch and burn, and so was the rest of his body, only covered by a thin loincloth that covered his privates. Then, he looked right, up and down the shaft of the polearm, inspecting it, and then turning it sideways in his hand, gripping it with two hands. Finally his eyes gazed upon the minotaur king before him. 

"I am Huladuras," he stated, letting his foot drag backwards through the dirt of the colloseum, entering a fighting position. "And I am no prodigal son." Without any further warning he rushed forwards, the polearm swinging back before he sent it hurtling forwards towards the minotaur, swinging the hammer at it's face. Of course, Huladuras had not seen how the minotaur crushed the former 'prodigal son' and so needed to find out just what this beast was capable of. In the off chance that the minotaur dodged the attack -- or even better, it hit -- he would swing the polearm back the way it had come from, in reverse, trying to hack the pick into the minotaurs head. 

Of course, there was no guarantee that this would work. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.