In the year 2516, Wozzaa journeyed to The Moot and tasted the best fried chicken of his life. It was crispy and perfectly spiced on the outside and juicy and tender on the inside. He waved for the waitress (gaining attention wasn't particularly hard being near twice the size of everyone in the restaurant).
"Please get the chef, I must give him my compliments."
The waitress hurried out back and brought back the cutest little hobbit. Round belly, jolly face, small.
"This is the best Fried Chicken I have ever had"
"Thank you." The Hobbit sighed in reply.
"Why so glum fella?" Asked Wozzaa looking, at the forlorn look on the little half-man.
"I make great Fried Chicken- I know. But my dream is to play Bloodbowl. Ever since I was a wee little one I wanted to play. I want to win a trophy. I train everyday after work, and now I am big..."
Splutter. Wozzaa coughed up the beer he'd just swallowed.
"Sorry. Carry on."
"..now I am big I want to play."
Wozzaa was about to say 'Good luck' to the little guy and head on his way, but the sadness in the halfling's eyes held him.
"I'm a bloodbowl coach" mumbled Wozzaa, half hoping he wouldn't hear.
"You are!" He said. "Please take me with you, I got a group of mates who train with me. We are ready. Please."
Wozzaa could feel something odd in his guts. Something very unpleasant, and he didn't think it was the hot wings.
"Please."
"Okay. Okay. I head off tomorrow, I'll be heading South to the Deserted Isles. Get you and yours together, and make sure you bring that frying pan, and we'll be off."
"Oh, thank you. Thank you so much!" He held out his little furry hand. Wozzaa thought that that hand was awful small to even pick up a blood bowl ball. "Drogo Chubb!"
Wozzaa took the puny hand in his. "Wozzaa."
They decided on a name: 'The Mootland Fryers' as fried food was their favourite, and Wozzaa decided on the uniform colour: blood red, in an attempt to hide the splattering that they would surely receive. He figured he could re-use the kits when their previous owners bit the dust, and blood stains are a real pain to wash out.
After a hearty, delicious breakfast, Wozzaa and his band of Hobbits hitched their carts and headed South towards the Deserted Isles..... and certain doom.

On the way they picked up two tree's Longroot and Stickysap.