The Lightning Strike strides into the ballroom, anxiously fixing the direwolf mask on his face. He doesn't like this, masks are for cowards. He also does not like the fancy fur clothing. "This is ridiculous..." He growls, and, when his silver eyes land on the princess, they roll with extreme sarcasm. "I'm supposed to marry her? She better be a good fighter." The barbarian strides forward, pushing through the crowd. Then he collides with the bloody Phantom. "Excuse me," He says carefully, eyes glancing down at the bloody costume, and is immediatly intrigued. "You are a ghost, yes? Died fighting?" A mighty hand scratches at his chin, and his eyes seem to sparkle with interest. Lightning especially takes note of the magic. He reaches forward with his right hand to touch it, then freezes. Remembering that he is weaponless, and if one of these 'civilized' soldiers attacks, he would need to beat them down with his fists. And he would most likely not survive. So the hand goes down to his side and he tries to think of something interesting to say.