Familiar indeed. The draconic scales and appendages together with that distinctive purple haze should immediately give away who is pinning down the screaming man.

Hades does not hear Hythlodaeus arrive. His focus is utterly consumed by the fae before him.

"Help? You want help?" He barks out laughter, pressing down harder on their throat. The man flails, trying to push him off, away, eyes bulging. "No-one helped my friend when he cried for help now, did they? And no-one will come for you."

He leans closer, leering, and eases the pressure just enough to keep them cognisant. "You saw my sculptures, did you not? Your people are all dead. You are alone." Sitting up straight, he laughs again. "Unless someone here from the crowd would like to intervene?" he jeers. "Come! If you would defend such a vile piece of morbol pus then come at me!!"