Ashram was a good baby, but had an unusual fascination with rattles. because of this, he developed a quick nack for conning other babies out of thier rattles. "It was amazing." his mother woud say. "Every week he would have upwards of twenty rattles in his possession." Ashram spent his formative years attending school and working on his parent's grub farm. Though neither of which seemed to inspire him, it did inspire the townsfolk to stay downwind of him.
A turning point in Ashram's life was his first exposure to live music at the age of twelve. While on an errand to fetch a bucket of lard for the week's meals, he was lured to the town pub by the melodic sounds of plucked strings. He watched wide-eyed through the pub window for a good hour before the barmaid yelled, "Get away from my dressing room window!" He then moved downto the window the music was comming from and listened with rapt attention while the band played to an appreciative audience. Periodically patrons would toss coins into a worn hat at the foot of the stage and Ashram couldn't help but notice that the lute player's hands were actually clean, unlike his which was the color of grub excrement. That alone was incentive enough for Ashram to become a musician. As the band stopped playing to enjoy a round of ale, Ashram's eyes locked on the beautiful Artica, the daughter of the nearby farmer who was now the bar's seving wench. It was that very moment he understood his true calling, prompting him to return to the window of the barmaid's dressing room. The very next day a black-eyed Ashram rummaged through some wood scraps and constructed a crude, make-shift instrument and learned to play the current big hit of the time, It's Bad Luck to be You. To earn money and to gain a musical education, he would preform odd jobs at the pub, such as killing rats in a cellar (or the barmaid's dressign room). and made friends with the traveling musicians who filled it's stage.
Near the conclusion of his schooling, Ashram felt he had no choice but to leave school and his village. This was of course because the school and village asked him to leave. It seems Ashram had made a pas at every lassie in town and was actually in the process of making a second pass. Also, his past caught up with him when classmates in his Warlocks & Witches class conjured up a spell to release blocked childhood memories. One by one, many of Ashram's classmates remembered being conned out of thier rattles when they were small children. Ashram barely escaped with his own rattles that day.
On the outside Ashram's parents were bitterly dissapointed with thier son, but deep down, well...they were bitterly dissapointed with thier son. "I don't know what's worse..." his father complained, "that he is so incompetent he can't even take over his parent's grub farm or that blasted noise he makes with that lute of his!" Fate however would step in as Ashram went to the neighboring town. During a rat extermination session down in the tavern cellars, to Ashram's amazement, a rat spoke to him in an elegant English accent and pleaded for his life. Ashram wasn't really amazed that the rat could speak to him, but it was speaking to him after only two mugs of ale. The rat eloquently told his story-he had been a talented bard himself once, a refined gentleman actually and a bit of a gold digger, when one of his conquests, a disgruntled mistress, turned out to be a scorceress. She exacted her revenge upon him by turning him into a rat. After listening to this, Ashram had but one question. "Her name wasn't Shiela, was it?" After being relieved that his last night's conquest wasn't the same woman, he then questioned the rat as to why he should spare the rat's life. The rat explained that he could teach the bard a tune that would summon him him out of mid-air, a talent he once had in his human form. He went on to say that only the most talented bards could play the tune and make it work, and he had witnessed Ashram's talent. "Who knows.." Ashram said, "i could use you as a ruse to earn a few coins." With thoughts of riches rushing into Ashram's head, a beautiful partnership was born between the rat...and the talking little rodent creature. Ashram had one simple request for his new friend the talking rat: speak agian, and he'd die before he could finish the sentence "I agr..." responded the rat.
Ashram continued his trek along the countryside, using his now silent rat to disturb patrons at local taverns and subsequently dispatching him for a modest fee. Searching for new towns to ply his trade, Ashram traveled across the sea to the Oracle Islands, a mystic land storied for it's mystical creatures and potent brews. After a long journey, he found and fell in love with the beautiful wolfess named Damaris.