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Just pester their descendants. If the have none pester other relatives. If there are none, pester the place they lived in.
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“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.”
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7 comments