Jograj Sipu, was born in the year 1875. His father was a member of one of the Brahmin jatis, but his mother was the youngest daughter of a British overlord. She died while giving birth.

Although his father was of high caste, and so technically was Jograj, many of the household servants reviled him for his mixed heritage, for his bastard birth. The servants treated him as little better than an outcaste, and his father plainly blamed him for his mother's death, and so was pained to even look upon his son.

Ignored by his father, Jograj took to sneaking out of the house at a young age, and wandered the area nearby, always would he stay out late into the night, seeking ever to find that which lay beyond the next rise. He never received any punishment for his frequent wanderings, as neither his father nor the servants seemed to care about his disposition.

Finally, at the age of 11, Jograj's meandering led him down the road to New Delhi. There he discovered the depravities of the British occupation forces, and he discovered that he had a knack for supplying them.

Returning home he began stealing from his father, bottles of wine and money mostly. The troops would reward him handsomely for the drink he was able to smuggle into their barracks, and look the other way if they spotted him picking a pocket or two.

In time he had amassed enough money to ensure his own financial security, and so he left his father's house behind forever, and moved to the city. He had now grown to large to smuggle drink to the troops, but he found other vices of theirs to cater to. Opium was not so hard for him to procure, and he knew the surrounding areas better than most - he had long before found many hiding places where illicit substances could be - and often were - concealed.

At the age of 22 his actions were discovered by the new commander of the troops. Jograj fled New Delhi with only his life. He played, for a time, with the notion of returning to his father's land, but - in the end - the decision was not his to make.

A wandering caravan of gypsies, odd in India, was camped some distance from the road. Staying near the road for direction, yet far enough away to not be visible by any patrols that might be upon it, Jograj walked directly into their camp.

Although most of the gypsies seemed alien in appearance and manner to him; their leader held herself with all the grace, charm, and beauty of an Indian princess. Jograj was at once smitten by her. The woman called herself Lillinalia, and she invited Jograj to travel West with her followers. Unable to resist, Jograj readily agreed.

For two years Jograj traveled into, and then across Europe with the Gypsies. If he found it odd that Lillinalia only emerged from her wagon during the night, he never admitted it, not even to himself. She taught him many things as they traveled, she revealed that she was indeed the Indian princess that he had taken her to be, and she taught him many things of the world. Mostly, however, she taught him of the religion which Jograj had neglected as a boy.

Jograj came to lover, yet she never showed even the slightest sign of noticing his nearly adolescent doting upon her. As oblivious as she seemed to be, the gypsies seemed to be perceptive. The women would giggle as he walked by, and the men would glower sullenly and shake their heads.

As the wise-woman of the caravan, sometimes the gypsy-queen, other times the lady of the sea or whatever else struck her fancy, Lillinalia defended the caravan with the power of her faith in Lord Shiva and with strange magic that she had learned upon her wanderings across the face of the land.

After two years, she sent the rest of the caravan on ahead one night, as she and Jograj stayed behind in her wagon. She revealed then the truth to him, as he held him down easily with one hand, and finished a deep draught of blood from his arm.

She told him what she was, a demon made flesh, or perhaps rather flesh made demon. She was a descendant, in the way of demons, of the Black Mother, whether she spoke of Kali herself or some other Jograj was never certain. She was of the Brahmin caste, and soon, so again, would he be.

She embraced him, and left him unconscious upon the road, beneath the light of the full moon.

Traveler's happened upon his still form, and he drained them in an instant, before he even knew what he had done. He was filled with revulsion at his diabolical actions, yet he felt refreshed as their blood slid down his throat and settled in to fill his belly.

He set out at once to follow the caravan, and for 3 years he dogged them each night, but he seemed always a step behind. He shed his humanity, bit by bit, learning to feed wherever and whenever he could, he debased himself, but still he followed her.

When at last he found her, camped off the road in an unnamed land - as she had been when first he saw her - she was overjoyed; happy that at last he had found his way to her. She apologized for abandoning him, but said that the only way to truly understand what it was to be a demon, was to live like one, and confront the darkest depths of one own soul.

They traveled together from that time forwards. They were forced to abandon the caravan when Hitler's forces moved across Europe, and together they fled to the New World. Together they wept over the friends that evil men had cost them.

Jograj reveled in his new existence, and although he took the words of morality which she offered him, he ignored many of her other teachings. It became a source of constant frustration for her, but still they traveled together, and still she taught him the ways of maya as best she could. She taught him the nature of the illusion which others thought of as reality, and taught him that to fulfill his purpose he must learn, alone, to transcend the illusion.

The week of nightmares caught them unprepared. As Ravnos himself ripped free of the earth they found each other embraced in passion. The madness claimed Jograj, and his fangs bit deep into her neck. Jograj drained Lillinalia. First he drained her of blood, then of life, and finally he devoured her very soul.

Driven mad, Jograj had no time to even consider the horror of his actions. For a week he was driven by insane thirst, he traveled by night, but found no others of his own clan upon which to slake his thirst, and so was forced to take those weak enough to fall prey to his tricks.

When the week ended, Jograj finally discovered what he had done. For though the weak faded from his mind like a bad dream, some portions of it embedded themselves within his mind, clinging to a startling clarity. Jograj knew that the thirst which had claimed his beloved was not his own, but he knew not its source. And thirst or not, he knew that it had been his own fangs that broken the skin of her neck, and he who had consumed her sweet, sweet soul.

Motivated as he had never been before, Jograj set out to learn what he could of the thirst that had consumed him. Everywhere he traveled he found that the thirst had claimed his entire clan, it seemed as though none had been spared its horror, and their numbers were now but the tiniest fraction of what they once had been.

Finding no help with his own kind, Jograj - who took to calling himself George as none of the other demons could pronounce it properly anyways - sought out the other demons, the ones who read too much Anne Rice and called themselves "vampires".