The fireworks merchant on the market square has been busy, that's for sure. His entire stall is filled with crates, some out of metal, some out of wood. On each box is written his new adres. Outside a cart is delivering a new load. Meanwhile the merchant is giving detailed instructions as to where the contents of the crates should be put while mumbling about humidity and temperature... Some have to be put in the small red tent, others in the big striped tent on the highest shelves. Others have to be kept in water, and have HIGHLY FLAMMABLE written on them.
His stall consists of two tents, one where he sells (the striped one) and one where he works (the red one). Both have buckets with water standing on the floor, next to bags with sand and cloth to soak in water and put out little fires (mostly substances that don't like the direct touch with water, like burning oil for instance).
Now despite all the safety precautions, the fireworks merchant is constantly urged to move from his current shop to a new location. Preferably somewhat out of the market, and closer to, say, Barrow's End.
He has ran in to a somewhat defensive attitude from his fellow merchants after an arrow had launched from inside his shop, skid across the market square (at the busiest part of the day) and exploded against the butchery, leaving a large black stain. Bill was very upset (to say the least) and had launched a petition requesting that the fireworks merchant should move immediatly, because of the hazardous nature of his profession. This petition was delivered to him last month and was subscribed by almost all the shopkeepers in the market square.
The children who live near the man have been looking forward to his coming all week, and take turns in keeping watch, just in case something might explode again. The alchemist, is also silently hoping to learn a thing or two about combustion.