"Oh, oh, dear me, sir. Those rags aren't fitting for a young gentleman like you. Come! Admire my new set of traveller's clothes with a hood! It can be yours for thirty gold coins, sir."
"Ye want a sword? Well here ya go. Long, graceful. A beauty, that. And maybe you'd fancy a crossbow, sir? Of delicate wood-make, imported from Sovaria. The whole lot's sixty gold coins, sir."
"Crowbar? Sure mate. Gimme a fiver and the thing's all yours. Oh, and the lockpick over there sells for ten. Or twenty. Go ask the bloke who owns it."
The rider chuckled to himself, as he blew all his power away. The richies here had fat purses, but nary an eye for pickpockets he had seen or sensed. Well, besides the townsfolk's pockets he'd heard that only the castle had anything worth pinching, but the guard could have surely doubled in the last hour or so. But to hell with that. He needed money.
He rounded over to the back of the castle, avoiding the guardhouse. He stayed hidden, concealed in a bush. When he was sure nobody was there, he leapt up onto the wall, and scaled it. He went for the nearest window. Coming out of it were strange smells, and the bubbling sound of brewing potions. It piqued his curiosity very much, so he took out his new crowbar and silently wedged it open. He put one delicate boot inside. Then the other. It appeared to him that he had stepped inside a wizard's room. Hmm. He snatched a few bottles of mysterious liquid from their clamps, then quietly continued on to pry open the golden chests.