Just pester their descendants. If the have none pester other relatives. If there are none, pester the place they lived in.
“Urist McLich! Why do you terrorize our humble village with your armies of undead!?”
“Four hundred years ago, the bartender of your only inn spat in my drink because I was looking away and he thought I wouldn’t notice.”
“Well…did you?”
“Of-fucking-course, why else would I come here? Where are his great-grandkids, I’m going to spit in their drinks and see how they like it.”
Good thing those leaf-loving elves live for so long! Plenty of time for revenge.
Dying before I can settle the grudge? THAT'S GOING IN THE BOOK!
Well, time to break out the orange hair dye and punch the biggest motherfucker I can find!
Image transcription:
Top text: "when you hold a grudge for 50 years"
Art of a tattooed dwarf, chest bare, clenching their fist.
Bottom text: "And that pesky Human dies before you can exact revenge."
