Her name was Dove, and upon her fifteenth year of life, she was recruited by the Harpers of Waterdeep and she began spying for them in many circles of Waterdhavian society, as well as below in Skullport.
A year later, she was assigned to watch the wife of a Waterdhavian professional witness - Lady Farquad. The noblewoman had begun secretly associating with the City of Shade, and the Harpers needed to know what her involvement was.
It was during this time that Dove became acquainted with Lady Farquad's husband, Devon.
The two fell in love, and after nearly a year Dove and Devon began to make plans to run away together.
Mere weeks before their planned elopement, Dove had a breakthrough in her investigation of her paramour's spouse. Lady Farquad was a Sharran Priestess, working for the city of Shade to undermine the city government and turn the City over to Shade's control. Already, the Lady Nova Farquad had a list of many of the city's hidden lords, and one had succumbed to her dangerous charms. Plans to utilize a doppleganger to replace him were in place, and his assassination was imminent.
Dove dutifully reported the intelligence she'd gathered to the High Harpers and they did not hesitate in ordering Dove to kill Nova.
The enchantress hesitated. Afraid that Nova's death would delay her lover's plans, or even eliminate them altogether, she struggled to fulfill her duty as a Harper, delaying assassinating Lady Farquad.
Then, Lord Devon Farquad, noble of the City of Waterdeep, betrayed the young girl. His noble conscience and Lawful nature overcame his passion for his coy maid, and in one of their secret trysts, he informed her that he could not go through with their elopement.
The mage was destroyed by the news. She fled the presence of her lover, and found herself in a small, secluded tavern in the Docks District. In the midst of her cups, she overheard two men planning the Hidden Lord's assassination. The Lord was to die in a sacrificial ritual that very evening, by Nova's own hands.
Dove had to move quickly. Her grief boarded on vengeful rage at her lover's rejection, though she fought hard to keep such thoughts in check. She was a Harper, an agent of good, and motives like those didn't become her. Nevertheless, her resolve was strengthened, and she sought out the Sharran priestess, Lady Farquad.
Finding Nova was simple enough. Over the past several months, the apprentice had learned the woman's secrets well. She tracked the woman down at her husband's home. Her Lord had not returned home yet. Quietly, the Harper slipped behind a hidden panel that opened a passageway to the city's underbelly, where the hidden temple to Shar, the goddess of loss, was hidden.
Her plan was simple. Nothing would go wrong.
Footsteps approached. The panel slid aside, revealing Nova arrayed in a shimmering black gown trimmed in violet silk. Dove was quick, her keen dagger rose and fell swiftly towards the Sharran's heart, but it glanced off the Obsidian disk Nova wore. Nova stumbled backwards, back into the house. Dove swiftly followed, not giving the Sharran a second to recover. She grabbed the priestess by her holy symbol, and pulled; the medallion's chain cutting into Nova's neck and pulling her towards the would-be-assassin's waiting dagger. This time, the knife struck home. Dove felt its blade slip through flesh and between ribs, piercing the heart of the high priestess. Nova's body went limp, and slumped to the floor as her full weight broke the chain around her neck.
The young girl grasped the amulet and gazed down at her victim's body. Nova's face displayed sorrow and shock as her last few gasps escaped her bloody lips. Dove was overcome by the myriad of her own emotions as she watched life leave her one-time-lover's wife. A deep sense of sorrow for the grief Devon would surely feel once he knew his wife was murdered, coupled with the shame that her hand had brought this pain to Devon. Was this what it meant to be a Harper? Was this what serving good cost? Could Lady Nova have been redeemed, given the chance? Her scattered thoughts gave way to a familiar voice crying out in anguish.
Her head snapped up. There, in the doorway to his wife's dressing room, stood Lord Devon Farquad, an arm of flowers - Nova's favorite - falling singly from limp hands as the noble starred in horror at the grizzly scene.
Dove's heart stopped. The dagger in her hand felt heavy, and her eyes darted between the crimson stained corpse at her feet and the horror-struck face of her lover.
"Dev, I'm..." she stumbled over her words. How do you explain to a man who just ended your relationship hours ago that his wife was a Sharran? Who would believe her? The incantation for a spell of charming rose to her mind, but her thoughts were interrupted by Devon's accusatory shout.
"Murderess!" He yelled. The girl despaired. Even if she could charm him, it would only be temporary. She rubbed a ring on her finger, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, and a wave of teleportation magic whisked her away to Blackstaff Tower. Her duty was done, and her love with it.
Days later, she stood on trial before a secret council. A few hidden lords would decide her fate. She was confident the trial was rigged in her favor. Her Harper friends and Lady Arunsun would have seen to that. But that did not make her grief any less as Devon Farquad himself railed against her, citing law after law, transgression after transgression, bringing the full weight of Waterdhavian law down on her.
She heard the guilty verdict. Guilty of a Serious Crime against the Second Plaint was the official wording. The anger in her once darling lord's voice when the sentence was merely exile from the city and not a Severe Crime against the Same, which would have resulted in her death. She heard it all, like echoes in a fog.
How could Lord Farquad do this to her? He'd loved her once. How could he be so blind to his wife's secrets? His devotion to truth had drawn her to him, and it had driven him away. Would that he had shown her such devotion. They could have had a life together.
A hand took her, and arcane waves surged around her. She was suddenly aware that she was standing underground. She looked up, and beheld the silver hair and kindly visage of Lady Arunsun. The Lady Mage of Waterdeep smiled sadly at her and spoke softly.
"Dove is one of my sister's names, you know." Dove nodded. She'd read of the Chosen of Mystra in her arcane studies.
"I saw much of her in you when I first held you in my arms and named you."
Dove blinked, and turned to face her mother. "Do you still see that?" She asked. Lady Laeral reached out and touched her daughter's cheek. "Yes, but there is much more of your own person here than my sister." The Chosen looked out across the cavern that held a good-sized subterranean city below them.
"Skullport can be a dangerous, but intriguing place." The sudden change of subject was not lost on Dove.
"It's a far cry from the dazzling lights and parties of Waterdeep." She glumly replied.
"True, but I think you'll find your place here," her mother replied. She took Dove's hand and pressed a silver harp and crescent pin into it. Dove took it, and pinned it to the inside of her tunic without a word. "I'd pick up an alias, if I were you," Laeral advised.
Dove nodded. "I've already thought of one" she replied. Taking from her leather belt pouch a small, black lace eye mask, she spread the mask across her piercing orbs and smiled coyly back at her mother. She then took out the obsidian disk she'd taken from Nova and fastened the chain around her own neck.
The black stone gleamed against her ivory skin, the tiny amethyst gems that surrounded it bringing out flecks of lavender in her eyes.
"I'm not Dove anymore. I'm Kara. Kara Devona." She smiled triumphantly, gave her mother an earnest hug, and then set out down the winding path that led into the City of Skullport.
