Disclaimer-I don't own the Greenday song. I don't own Sarevok, Tamoko, Imoen, Gorion, or anything else from the game. Bree is mine, however, and so is Karl, so please don't steal them, or I will have to eat you. There are also a lot of made up characters who are only in a couple parts of the story...go ahead and steal them, most of them are jerks.

Ok, this is basically a story about 4 Bhaalspawn; Sarevok, Karl, Imoen, and Bree. They all go through their own personal hell (well, Imoen's not too bad off...), and they all either know each other or meet each other. Karl basically goes through the normal experience with Gorion, with only a few differences. Um...this is just some idea I randomly had one day, so...it's a little weird, but interesting...I guess.

Here are their ages... Karl-7, Sarevok-8 Bree-6, Imoen-5

Savior

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's only me and I walk alone

"You're worthless! Pathetic! You'll never be anything! I offered to teach you, the least you could have done was tried! Worm! Cretin!" the tirade of insults went on and on, each curse lessening Karl's belief in his own capabilities. With every whimper he mentally berated himself; he had failed the spell, had failed his mother. It was supposed to be simple. She had said it would be simple; say the words, harness the energy, and shape it into a candle. He had failed. He wasn't smart enough, and now he paid the price.

A painful blow sent him sprawling against the wall. Alianna stared at him, unable to control her frustration. When she learned she would be birthing a son of Bhaal, she had expected a powerful child, one who would make her proud. After all, she was one of the most powerful, favored high priestesses of Bhaal. Her brethren would have expected a remarkable child, and instead she had birthed a small, seemingly frail boy.

Training him as a warrior would have been pointless; he was only 7, but it was obvious that he would never truly excel in combat. Karl was small, pale, and often sick. He was shy and quiet, never questioning anyone. At first, Alianna had believed his lack of strength and stamina would be compensated for by his mind. Perhaps, she had thought, he would excel as a mage or even a priest of Bhaal. The thought had pleased her, and yet Karl showed no aptitude for mastering spells or any of the arcane arts.

And so, he was her shame. A child of the Lord of Murder, yes, but nothing like the other Children. Melissan, the most favored and powerful high priestess, had ordered that all of the Children be taught to fight or cast spells, no matter how young they were. She believed, and the other followers of Bhaal agreed, that the Children should be powerful, unstoppable.

Tresta, another of the high priestesses, had birthed twins, each of them only 8 years old and already able to cast second level spells. Gailla had raised her son, Sarevok, and he was already one of the strongest, most skilled fighters. Other children even younger than Karl had developed skills that made them worthy of the title of 'Bhaalspawn'.

And Karl, son of one of the most respected priestesses, was nothing but a weak, stupid boy. Alianna sighed and turned her back on the shaking child, walking out of the room without a backward glance.

Several minutes later Karl slowly stood up and walked shakily to the small scroll Alianna had told him to recite from. He fingered it gently and bit his lip, determined to cast the spell. After all, he had to make his mother proud.

Bree watched her mother, Dinah, talking with Melissan, the most important high priestess. She fingered the two small dolls in her hand, then looked around for any potential playmates, hardly noticing the strange, gory designs on the numerous paintings and alters to Bhaal. Aside from her mother and the priestess, the room was empty. The little girl heard a small cry come from another room, and she turned towards it. A red-haired boy, several years older than her, was fighting with another boy. She yawned again and headed towards the room, watching as the two older children fought with their wooden swords.

The red-haired boy took another blow, the other boy's wooden sword hitting him heavily on the side. The redhead backed away, breathing heavily. Bree looked at the other boy, who was slightly shorter than the redhead. The boy had shaggy black hair that went just past his ears. He noticed Bree looking at him and he glanced at her. She gasped as she saw his eyes; they were a bright, sparkling yellow.

"All right, that's enough for now." a short, plump man with a bright red face called out, stepping between the two boys. "Sarevok, you're attacks are improving, but you need to focus on defense." the yellow-eyed boy nodded and handed his sword to the man. "Darg, remember to stay on your toes, and focus more on blocking his attacks. You may go, now."

Darg glared at Sarevok and headed out of the room, scowling. The short-haired man placed the wooden swords on a rack on the wall, then also headed out. Sarevok glanced at the little girl, who was still watching him. She smiled and waved, as if he was her best friend.

Bree nearly skipped over to him, delighted with his bright yellow eyes. "Hi!" she said brightly, standing in front of him and cocking her head to the side. "I like your eyes."

Sarevok grinned slightly, looking down at her. "I like your hair," he said sincerely. She was fairly normal looking, except for her long, silver hair.

Bree grinned back. "I'm Bree. What's your name?"

"Sarevok."

"Sarv...Servo...Serev...um..." she struggled with his name, her small face scrunched up with the effort. "Sary...Saery...Sarry..." she stopped, frowning. Then she suddenly looked up at him brightly and smiled again. "Can I call you...Sarry?"

Sarevok grinned at the adorable little girl. "I...guess so. What's your name?"

"I'm Bree." she looked down at her small dolls and blushed, biting her lip. "Um...would you...do you...wanna play with me?"

He blanched. Play dolls? She wanted him to play dolls? "Uh...well..."

She peered at him hopefully with two big black eyes. "Please? Pleeease?"

He stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "Er...I..." the eyes got even bigger, pleading with him. "Um...ok!"

She gave a squeal of delight and handed him the boy doll. "Yay! Here, you can have Prince Timmy. I'll have Princess Crystal."

He looked down at the doll blankly. "Um...ok. Er...what do we...do?"

She sat down and smiled at him. "Well, Timmy has to save Crystal from the monster, and then they fall in love."

Sarevok blinked and sat down next to Bree. "They...do?"

"Yep! Now, this is where Crystal is trapped, so Timmy has to climb up and save her!" Bree placed Crystal on the weapon rack and looked at Sarevok with happy, expectant eyes.

He sighed, then set about rescuing the 'princess' from the 'monster'...or, as most people called it, the wooden axe on the weapon rack.

Frieda smiled as she cradled the sleeping Imoen in her lap. She brushed a stray lock of brown hair from the little girl's face and slowly stood up, heading for the small bedroom. She placed Imoen in the bed and crawled in next to her, not hearing the front door open. As she drifted off to sleep she once again pictured the tall, handsome man she had given herself to, the man who had sired this wonderful little girl and then vanished, as if he'd never even existed.

Imoen smacked her lips in her sleep, probably dreaming about the wonderful cake Frieda had made for the girl's birthday. The ingredients had cost a near fortune, but the look of delight on the child's face had made the cost of the ingredients seem unimportant. Frieda had worked to make the girl's birthday particularly special. She had invited all of the neighborhood children, though Imoen hardly knew any of them. Despite her invitations, however, no one had come to the small, cramped building Frieda and Imoen called home.

And so, Frieda had made the cake. And, as Frieda thought about that beautiful, expensive cake with its frosty white layers and the pretty pink icing, she began to suddenly crave cake. She climbed out of the bed and went to the kitchen, the only other room in the house. She cut herself a tiny slice and chewed slowly, savoring the sweet sugar.

She never even suspected that something was amiss. She never heard the quiet step of the man behind her, and she never felt the rush of air as his knife sliced through the air and into her neck.

"Your child would please our lord, and your offering will only increase your favor with him. Do you accept?"

As if I have a choice. Alianna thought bitterly as she looked into Melissan's eyes. It was not the prospect of killing her child that displeased her; no, Alianna would do anything to please her lord, and Karl was more of a nuisance than anything else. It was the implied insult in Melissan's words that made Alianna's blood boil. Melissan chose Karl as one of the sacrifices because he was weak and showed little potential. The high priestess might as well have said, 'You've created a nearly worthless child, so would you mind killing him since we don't want him?'

"Of course. Whatever my lord desires." Alianna bowed slightly to the high priestess. "When will the sacrifice take place? And are their going to be other Children?"

Melissan stared at her uncaringly, as if trying to decide whether or not Alianna was worth the effort of talking to. Finally, she answered, "The ceremony will not take place for two months. There are certain...preparations that must be made. There will be other Children, yes."

"Who?"

The favored high priestess seemed annoyed by Alianna's questions. "We will wait until our lord decides. There will be five Children, two of which have already been decided. Your son, and Dinah's daughter. The others have not been chosen yet."

Alianna seemed slightly surprised. "Dinah's child? I thought she showed potential...?"

"She does, but our master desires her as a sacrifice. Do you questions his will?" her tone was vaguely amused, yet carried the hint of a threat.

"No, of course not." Alianna said hurriedly. Melissan smiled coldly and left, her tall form seeming to meld with the surrounding shadows of the temple's dark corridors. Alianna clenched her fists, then smiled grimly. At least, she thought, I won't have to worry about teaching the brat.

She had scarcely digested that comforting thought when Karl came running into the room, pale face flushed with pride. "Look, mother!" he cried, slowly working his fingers in an intricate pattern as he said the words of a spell. Alianna watched as he created a small candle of magic, floating just above his fingers.

Alianna scowled and turned on her heel, striding out of the room. Karl let the candle blink out of existence and stared after her, confused. Why wasn't she proud?

"Found you!" Bree cried happily, spotting Sarevok under the table. "Now it's your turn."

Sarevok crawled out from under the table and grinned at the silver-haired girl. "All right. I'll count to fifteen."

She nodded and ran for a closet as he closed his eyes and counted. He had just reached ten when Dinah came into the room, opening the closet and scowling at her child. The moon elf grabbed Bree by the arm and hauled her out of the closet, muttering things no child should hear. "It's almost time for your lessons, girl! Why aren't you ready?!"

Bree looked at the ground and bit her lip. "I...I was...was..."

Dinah shook the girl roughly. "Spit it out, fool!"

Sarevok saw the sparkle of tears forming in Bree's eyes, and he stepped forward. "It was my fault, my lady." he said, bowing to the priestess. He may have only been eight, but respect was thoroughly beaten into every child at the temple. "She was showing me, uh," he searched his mind for an excuse. Every child was taught an array of skills, but what was Bree being taught...? Not fighting skills, he knew, and he doubted she would be learning magic...but what was she learning? Suddenly it hit him; Bree was nearly invisible in the dark, despite her silver hair. "She was showing me how to hide in the shadows. I haven't learned that, yet, and I asked her to show me how to-"

She interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "Is this true?"

Bree hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, mother, it's true."

Dinah scowled but let the subject drop. "Very well. Hurry up and prepare for your lessons. If you're late again I won't let it slide."

"Yes, mother." Bree nodded, and Dinah strode swiftly out of the room. Bree smiled at Sarevok, but he could tell that her smile was forced. "Thanks, Sarry."

He shrugged, somehow disturbed by Dinah's rough treatment of Bree. "No problem. Uh...do you need help getting ready?'

She shook her head. "No." Suddenly she looked at him quizzically. "Sarry, what does 'fucking' mean?"

The man pulled his knife out of Frieda's neck and let her body fall out of the chair. He looked around the shabby room, disappointed by the severe lack of anything valuable. He went into the bedroom and found a few coppers in a small jar next to the bed. He nearly screamed in surprise when he heard a quiet sigh from the bed. Leaning over, he saw a tiny girl sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by his presence.

He raised his blade, then hesitated. She looked so peaceful, so innocent...and she was no threat. If she woke, the most she could do was cry. Besides, his work was done; the house held almost nothing of value. He sighed and completed his search of the house, then left, leaving only a corpse and a sleeping child as witnesses.

The next day a passing neighbor noticed the strange, unrecognizable odor coming from the house. Looking in, his mouth dropped at the sight of a young girl, sobbing and curled up next to her cold, staring mother.

Two Months Later...

"What does it do?" Karl asked, fingering the small vial his mother handed him. It was filled with a dark purple liquid and was hot to the touch.

"It will clear your mind, help you sleep." Alianna lied, watching her son expressionlessly. "Drink it, child."

Karl did as his mother commanded, grimacing at the vile, almost intolerably hot liquid and looking out the window, trying to ignore the taste. "It tastes ba..." he stopped suddenly, moving a shaking hand to his throat. "Mo...moth...er..." His entire body trembled violently as he felt a cold, numbing sensation spread through his limbs. The last thing he saw before everything went black was a group of fiery clouds, wreathing the setting sun like some bloody halo.

Alianna stood over her son's still form and slowly picked him up, heading for the sacrificial chamber.

Sarevok stood horrified in the room, staring at the three Children already tied down to the alter. He watched numbly as Alianna carried her son in. Melissan and a priest wearing black armor tied the limp boy down. Already many of the worshippers of Bhaal had gathered in the room, and any children at least six years old stood in a small group. Sarevok looked at a girl next to him, her brown eyes shining with anticipation, and shuddered.

He looked through the group of children, feeling a sudden desire to find Bree and get her out of there. He didn't want her to see this. He searched through the group, feeling a sudden wild panic well up when he didn't find her. "Bree?" he whispered quietly, knowing he would be punished if he disrupted the quiet stillness of the room. A girl glanced at him curiously, then looked back at the alter with a frightened expression. "Bree?" he said again, this time slightly louder and more urgently.

"Shh!" he turned to the redhead who had shushed him, then scowled as he realized in was Darg. The boy frowned at him and turned away.

Sarevok was on the verge of screaming Bree's name when he heard Melissan's voice. "Go and get your daughter. The ceremony starts soon."

Sarevok peered over the head of another girl, paling as he saw who Melissan was talking to. Dinah nodded and bowed to the priestess, then turned and headed for her quarters. Sarevok stared, open-mouthed, in shock. Bree...they were going to sacrifice Bree...he backed against the wall as the image of the little girl's bloody body entered his mind.

He trembled, staring after Dinah. If he interfered, his life would be forfeit. He understood that, and yet... Sarevok turned and looked at the door only a foot to his right. He stood frozen to the spot when a sudden cry made him jump. The potion all of the 'chosen' had been given was beginning to wear off, and a little girl had snapped out of her limp stupor. She struggled against the ropes holding her down and began screaming, sobbing.

Sarevok looked at the girl, then suddenly replaced her with the image of Bree, struggling against the alter. He shook his head and mouthed the word 'no', then slipped unnoticed out of the door.

Bree yawned and stretched out on her tiny bed, not really caring where her mother was. She and Sarevok had spent almost the entire day playing games, and she was completely exhausted.

She was had just drifted off to sleep when the creak of the door opening woke her up. She watched her mother enter the room, a cruel smile on the moon elf's face.

"Mother? What's that?" she pointed at the small vial of dark purple liquid in her mother's hand.

"This? It's called a potion. It will change your hair color."

She furrowed her small brow as Dinah drew closer. "But I don't want to change my hair."

Dinah sat down on the bed, lips twitching in amusement as Bree drew away. "Don't worry, it only lasts for an hour."

Bree blinked, confused by her mother's sudden hint of affection. "Will it...hurt?"

Dinah laughed lightly and popped the cork off, handing her daughter the vial. "Of course not."

Bree sniffed the liquid, then turned to the side, coughing at the foul odor. Her eyes watered as she gagged, and she didn't notice Dinah's eager look. She also didn't notice Sarevok creep into the room, clutching the small but sharp dagger he had been taught to keep in his boot.

As he entered the room he nearly passed out when he noticed Bree hadn't taken the potion yet. The girl was coughing hard and holding the vial in her hand. Dinah was sitting on the bed with her back to the door, Bree's coughing masking the sound of Sarevok stepping into the room.

Sarevok stepped up behind Dinah, shaking. He gripped the dagger tightly, sweat making his hand slippery. He took a shuddering breath suddenly realizing that the only way to help Bree was...to kill Dinah. The realization hit him like a physical blow, making him gasp.

The sound alerted Dinah, who whirled around to face the young boy, holding a dagger and standing not a foot away. Her hand gripped the hilt of a dagger and pulled it out just as Bree noticed Sarevok. She smiled and cried, "Sarry!"

Dinah whipped out the dagger, but as she did so Bree jumped up to greet her friend, spilling some of the hot liquid onto her mother's hand. Dinah cried out and dropped the dagger, almost immediately recovering and casting a spell. She never finished, however, because the last words of the spell became a sickening gurgle as Sarevok's dagger entered her chest.

A scream pierced the silence of the sacrificial room, this one not coming from any of the children tied to the alter. It was a scream of horror and pain, causing everyone in the room to momentarily freeze.

Melissan turned to a high priest. "Go find out what happened!" she ordered, and the priest, several black-armored guards at his heels, left the room.

A heartbeat after they left, a sudden, screeching alarm went off, the signal that the temple was being invaded.

"Sa...Sarry?" Bree whispered, looking from her mother's unmoving body to her brother, big black eyes horrified and confused. Sarevok trembled as he pulled the blade out, wincing as Dinah made a small, choked sigh before the light left her eyes. He winced again as he saw that some of her blood had spattered onto Bree's silver hair.

"I...she was...going...she...kill...going to...she..." he stammered the words, unable to take his gaze away from Dinah's lifeless eyes, no longer sparkling with malice. He ignored the tear that slid down his cheek as he looked at her. His first kill.

Bree was shaking, but she stepped towards the boy and placed her small hand in his larger one. "S...Sarry, why-?"

He looked at her and tried to think of something to say when the door burst open and a priest stepped in, backed by three guards. Sarevok felt another tear slip out as he realized that this was the end.

The priest stared at Dinah, shocked. Then, slowly, his gaze slid to Sarevok, who had stepped in front of Bree. "You...you little-." He was interrupted by a cry from behind as a long, graceful katana sliced into one of the guards. A faint sizzle in the air was the only warning any of them had before an arc of lighting entered the room. The guards and priest got the brunt of the attack, but little tendrils of lightning hit the two children and sent them flying backwards. Sarevok was thrown into the window, which shattered in a storm of glittering glass and let Sarevok land several feet away from the window, stunned. Bree was sent flying into the bed and knocked her head sharply against the wooden side, causing her to slump unconscious to the floor.

A short, bloody battle took place in the hallway, ending with a single woman mage blasting the life out of her companions and enemies both. She stood, an arrogant smile sliding over her face as she saw the carnage her latest spell had caused. She stepped into the room and noticed the little silver-haired girl lying limp against the bed. She arched one brow, then turned away and began searching the room for valuables. She finished looting, then was about to leave when a thought hit her.

She looked back at the little girl, thinking. A Bhaalspawn...and, from her features and hair, she was most likely partly elven...the woman grinned and placed her hand on the girl, murmuring a teleportation spell.

Sarevok crawled back to the shattered window, ignoring the shards of glass stuck in his bruised body. He reached the window just in time to see a woman begin a spell. The woman picked up Bree and stepped into a magical doorway just as he screamed, "Wait!"

He slumped back as she left, apparently not hearing him. He trembled and stared at where his little sister had just been. "Bree..." he whispered, then swallowed and turned away from the room, limping away from the temple.

Alianna stood in front of the alter with a struggling Karl tied to it. A man wearing dark grey robes stood in front of her, wielding his glowing staff with the precision of a seasoned warrior. She dodged one attack, then another, then hit him with a blast of cold. He, in turn, cast a surprisingly powerful spell, sending an array of tiny, acid-tipped darts at Alianna. She gasped in pain as several hit her, immediately pumping acid into her blood. She twitched spasmodically and tried to cast a spell, but a sudden burst of flames from the man's staff and hit her directly in the face. She screamed, then abruptly fell silent as his staff cracked down on her skull. She whispered Bhaal's name as she felt her body seem to grow cold and numb, indifferent to any pain. The man's staff came down again and her vision went blurry, dark. One final blow and she felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing, became nothing.

Gorion watched the light leave the priestess' eyes with grim satisfaction, then turned to the quickly ending battle around him. His companions were either dying or teleporting out of the room. They were desperately outmatched by the followers of Bhaal, and the battle was almost over. Several priests saw him standing near the altars and came running in his direction.

"Help! Please! Please, help!" Gorion turned to the boy tied to the alter, struggling with all his might and looking at him pleadingly. He hesitated. A Bhaalspawn...what would he do...? Abruptly he made a decision, laying his hand on the frail boy and uttering a teleportation spell, feeling the world fall away as everything was swallowed in white light.

"Shh, it's alright. You'll be alright." Gerta murmured to the small girl in her arms, who had been sobbing for the past two hours. "What...happened, exactly?"

The man standing in front of Gerta shifted. "I just found her lying next to her mother. I...didn't know where else to take her. She's a sweet girl, she doesn't belong out on the streets. I...I can't look after her, I can barely feed my family, but...I know you and Dale have always wanted a child...so..."

Gerta nodded, stroking the girl's hair. "I see. Poor, poor baby." she murmured to the sobbing girl. "We make good money off of the inn, we can certainly afford to take care of her. Do you...know her name?"

He nodded. "Imoen. Frieda called her Imoen."

"Imoen." Gerta whispered soothingly. "Shh, shh, everything's going to be okay, Imoen." the man turned to leave, and Gerta carried the child into her room. "Dale? Dale!" her husband entered the room, looking with surprise at the crying little girl. Gerta rocked Imoen back and forth, rubbing her back. "Dale...we need to talk about something."

Well, there's the beginning...please review, I'd like to know if this is any good so far...Also, please let me know if I misspelled any names.