Jade was born in Harondor, to the Khamill Clan. She was the daughter of Khadu, one of the clan's most respected men, and Teela, a Variag slave. Teela had been freed after the slaving caravan she had been attached to was overturned during a pitched battle between Haradrim raiders and Rangers of Ithillien. 

Because of its proximity to Gondor, Mordor, and Harad, Harondor was a land constantly in the midst of chaos. Jade's family was always moving, keeping away from the crux of the battles and trying to find a place with the resources and stability to settle down. Thus, as a child, Jade learned to hold on to very little. She learned that her body must always be fueled and ready to fight for survival at a moment's notice.

Jade also learned to cherish, and even long for, peace. Peace. That rarest of things. Rarer than meat, rarer than sunshine, rarer still than a smile. Peace. Jade knew that she came from mixed stock, and she mourned the fact that she might never learn of her mother's heritage, nor the extent of the Khamill Clan's history, as both had been lost to the Shadow. However, more than her lost lineage, Jade mourned that so many men would die fighting one another, rather than sitting around an open flame and tellnig stories as one. 

Years went on, and eventually Jade grew into a teen, and then a young woman. All the while, she was trained to defend herself and her family, and she hung onto her lessons. Eventually, the Gondorians came, and her life was changed. No doubt, in the eyes of the men of the South-Kingdom, they were rescuing these lowly tribal folk from a life of wartorn misery. 

To Jade, it seemed that her family was now slaves, though under a different name. Chained by societal contract, rather than metal. They became low class citizens in the city of Pelargir, forced to haul ship-lumber, hem skirts, and butcher meat for the more "skilled" artisans. It was all, by the Gondorian's words, "in the name of their salvation." It was their chance at a new life. They were miserable. Those cherished moments came fewer and farther between. Even if the fear was lessened, Jade and her family would never shake their instincts, honed by years of living in Harondor. Staying still meant death. Stagnation. And here, in the city of Pelargir, they were doomed to stay still. 

Even their little relief: the rare moments of peace, were diminished. Gone were the lackadaiscal days of lounging in the sun or the sand, cooking fish by hand on the fire, and playing music until the stars were bright in the sky. Now, the nights were filled with preperations for the day to come, drowned by the cramped spaces of their small home, and the sounds of the shipyards, ever alive. 

Jade's family knew that she, young as she was, would stifle herself here in this city. Her restlessness was obvious. So, in the final years before her 23rd winter, the Khamill Clan secretly stashed some of their earnings. Then, when they could, they presented Jade with travelling gear, and a bit of coin for her travels. They told her to see the world. They had lived their lives of adventure, dark and thrilling as they were. They were content, now, to live this waning life in the city. They knew that Jade would not be ready until her wanderlust was satiated. 

Jade wanted to say no; she had never left her Clan. But they insisted, and in her heart, Jade knew that she must go. She felt the need in her feet. She had heard tale in her years in Pelargir of far off places, the entire world of Middle-Earth, beyond the southlands. She dreamed of those places, though she cared not to admit it. 

And so, after her 23rd winter, as spring came forth to warm the air, Jade set off towards the North. She promised to visit her family again, and she took her first steps onto the road alone...