Harold ran and jumped through a hole in the castle walls. He had been running for a while now, due to his crime.
Apparently, one of the guards saw that damnable High Virgin enter his room and assumed a meeting, only to see Harold come out and the damnable High Virgin disappear! How was Harold to know where she went!? They had questioned him for days! He had told them everything, he had little other choice. Luckily, they just thought he killed her, instead of slept with her. That meant they just wanted to turn him over to the Priestess and let her execute him.
If they thought he took her virginity, then he would be tortured for a year on charges of rape.
'Damn you High Virgin!' Harold thought ferociously as he ducked behind a barrel. She must have drugged him somehow. That was the only explaination. Harold would have noticed her clothing if he was in his right mind. Even if she was trying to kill him, Harold would have let her. At least that way his name would be preserved.
Harold calmed himself and pulled his black cloak around him as a patrol passed by. Thanks to the night and the barrel's shadow, he was able to miss the soldier's eyes. Lucky thing too, as they had been after him for a while now. They were probably getting more aggrivated.
Harold waited for them to pass and ran across the street and into another alleyway. He passed a few of the homeless, but they ignored him, and ran to where the end of the alleyway met a wall. It was the last wall in Torgus Castle's many layers. Harold accessed his Shadow magic and slowly bore through the wall. He made sure to watch his back, in case another patrol noticed his work.
After a few moments, Harold broke through the wall. He crawled into the hole he had made and started sneaking through. It was dark and he cut his hands and knees on the rough tunnel. By the time he got out, his clothing, which had once been a fine black and gold suit, was now rags.
"I guess that's karma for the damn High Virgin's clothing, huh?" Harold ran off into the grasslands that surrounded Torgus Castle. There were occasional bandits and riff raff in the plains, so Harold was glad for the sword at his hip. He cringed a little at the thought's of it's origin, but ignored them.
He had done what was needed and this blade was his prize. Nothing more, nothing less.