Category Archives: Silliness

Ctheckers: The simple board game of cosmic insignificance

 

It started as a joke. It still is, really, But I wrote up the rules for Ctheckers! (Which is even sillier than Golem Chess!)

Gameplay is as standard checkers, with the following changes.

On the bottom of the checkers of each side, make the following notations:
Cth: This is the Cthecker. Ia! Ia! Each side has a single Cthecker.
Cu: Cultist. Each side has eight cultists.
Ny: Nyarlathotep. You’ll also need chess pieces for this piece – a pawn, bishop, king, knight, queen, and rook. And a d6. It’s an elder god, things can get complicated. Each side has one Nyarlathotep.
R.C.: Randolf Carter. Each side has one Randolf Carter.
Nec: Necronomicon.

Once all checkers are marked, flip them so the markings are concealed and shuffle them. Once you no longer know which of your checkers is which, place them on the checker board as normal.

When a checker is captured, and when it reaches the far row of the board to be promoted, reveal what the checker is by flipping it over. Then follow the rules for each checker as noted below.

Cthecker: If the Cthecker of either player is revealed, either by being captured or by being flipped over as a promotion when it reaches the far row of squares, the game ends and both players lose. The coming of the Cthecker is bad for everyone, and nothing else you insignificant humans has done matters at all.

Cultist: If you reveal a cultist by capturing it nothing special happens – it is captured and removed from the board. If you reveal a cultist as a promotion when it reaches the far row of squares, you stack one previously taken cultists from your side, and one from your opponents side, under it. The top cultist in this stack now acts as a king from checkers. However, as soon as it moves, the next top cultist also acts as a king, and you can move it independently. But if you do, you reveal your opponent’s cultist, and IT now acts as a king which your opponent can move normally on his turn.

If you or your opponent do not have enough previously captured cultists to stack the correct number under a promoted cultist, place however many you can and proceed normally.

If all eight of your cultists are captured, you lose the game.

Cultists think they are working toward a goal, but mostly they just spawn more powerful cults, not all of which are working toward the same goal.

Nyarlathotep: If Nyarlathotep is revealed by being captured or reaching the far row and being promoted, it is not actually captured. Instead, it assumes one of its many forms. Roll 1d6. One a 1 it becomes a chess pawn, 2 a bishop, 3 a king, 4 a knight, 5 a queen, and 6 a rook.

Unless Nyarlathotep is in its king form, no piece can take it except another revealed Nyarlathotep. If Nyarlathotep is in king form it can be taken by being jumped or by having an opposing Nyarlathotep land in its space. Unlike other pieces in Ctheckers, Nyarlathotep can capture your own pieces (but is not required to if it has the opportunity). If your Nyarlathotep is taken you lose the game.

When your Nyarlathotep is revealed, place the chess piece it becomes on top of the original Nyarlathotep checker. While it is on your checker you can move it as the corresponding chess piece. You capture any piece you land on the space of (ending your turn) or jump over (as a knight). At the end of your move, roll 1d6 to determine the new chess piece Nyarlathotep acts as, and place any captured checker of your opponent under it. This is still considered your piece, but only your opponent can move it, as his turn, if he wishes, and he can capture your pieces when he does so. Once your opponent moves Nyarlathotep, roll the d6 to determine its form again, and place your original checker under it. You can now move it again. Repeat as each of your moves the piece.

If your opponent has not had a piece captured, he cannot move Nyarlathotep until he does have a piece, and it remains stationary until your opponent has a piece captured or the game ends.

Nyarlathotep has many forms, and his plans are impossible for mortal minds to comprehend.

Randolph Carter: If Carter is revealed as a result of being captured, flip him like a coin. If the checker lands top-up, promote him. If it lands bottom-up, he goes mad and is replaced by a captured cultist from your opponent, which your opponent now controls. (If your opponent does not have a captured cultist, nothing else happens).

When promoted, Carter moves like a king. Also, when he is promoted, you may look under one checker of your opponent. This is not considered to be revealing that checker, and you do not have to tell your opponent what you learn. You can even lie about what you learn. The rules specifically say that is okay. After being promoted Carter is allowed to look under a checker of yours as a move on your turn, but if he does so he goes mad (as if coming up bottoms-up in the case of being captured).

Carter is a human scholar and traveler through dreams. Maybe a madman.

Necronomicon: If your Necronomicon is revealed, it remains in play, but you can no longer move it, and it cannot be captured by your opponent. It can be captured by you (and if you can capture it you must, unless you can capture a different piece in the same turn). If you capture you own Necronomicon you look inside and are torn apart by invisible demons. Also, you lose the game.

Either you or your opponent may sacrifice a promoted cultist, removing it from the game, to move a revealed Necronomicon. If you have revealed Randolph Carter, you may sacrifice him to remove your own revealed Necronomicon from the game. Either of these actions counts as your move.

Become a Patron!

Hey folks, do you enjoy the content on this blog? I can only take the time to do longer things like this (come on, it’s Cthulhu + Checkers!), because I have patrons supporting me! Why not become a patron, and support the creation of more free material! Or you could even become a sponsor, and get me to link to YOUR content!

Naming the Planets of TRAPPIST-1

Obviously when naming TRAPPIST-1a through TRAPPIST-1g, there will be a strong temptation to use the names of some famous set of seven things. Noting that the most-likely of these to have life are TRAPPIST-1d through TRAPPIST-1f, here are some suggested naming schemes with notes on the potential pros and cons. I’ve bolded the ones I assume have life (and cultures and all sorts of stuff there’s absolutely no real evidence for) to keep in mind which of these 7 names I think are the most crucial in each set.

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, >Wednesday Thursday, Friday<, Saturday
Has the advantage of being able to do travel posters saying “Thank God, It’s Friday!”

Avarice, Envy, Gluttony, >Lust, Pride, Sloth<, Wrath
Gives built-in cultural suggestions. “We’ve sexy, we know it, and we’re not doing anything about it.”

Aventine, Caelian, >Capitoline, Esquiline, Palatine<, Quirinal, Viminal
One of my only two actual serious suggestion. I really like the sound of these, and it makes me thing of a vast interplanetary empire controlling multiple worlds on one system.

Ji Kang, Liu Ling, Ruan Ji, >Ruan Xian, Xiang Xiu, Wang Rong<, Shan Tao
My second serious suggestion. I like it a lot, though obviously it would encourage renaming the star from TRAPPIST-1 to Bamboo Grove, which might not be fair to Trappist.

Kambei Shimada, Gorōbei Katayama, Shichirōji, >Kyūzō, Heihachi Hayashida, Katsushirō Okamoto<, Kikuchiyo
You could fudge the order to be alphabetical, or course. The main shame here for this order si I think Kambei Shimada and Kikuchiyo would be the most interesting planets to live on.

Goat, Lion, Peacock, >Pig, Snail, Snake<, Toad
All I have is a marketing campaign “At least you don’t live on a toad!”

Doc, Dopey, Bashful, >Grumpy, Sleepy, Sneezy<, Happy
So first, if we are doing this, I want to force Disney to pay for probes to go there, so at least we get some benefit from the corporate advertising.
Second… I don’t want to live on any of those. I’d be okay living on Happy, but who the hell wants to be a native Grump?

Maedhros, Maglor, Celegorm, >Curufin, Caranthir, Amrod<, Amras
Not a serious suggestion, but I wouldn’t mind. But if this happens, we’d better get GOOD fantasy movies out of it.

Cup, Diadem, Diary, >Locket, Potter, Ring<, Snake
Okay, I’m only in favor of this if the inhabitants of Planet Potter turn out to be wizards.

Father, Mother, Maiden, >Crone, Warrior, Smith<, Stranger
Don’t recognize this set?
SHAME! (bell rings)

Lunia, Mercuria, Venya, >Solania, Mertion, Jovar<, Chronias
My biggest issue here is no one gets to live on SEVENTH heaven.

F, C, G, >D, A, E<, B
This has my vote for the Worst Idea On This List. First, naming planets for the seven natural pitches that form the C-major scale is weird. Second, renaming TRAPPIST-1a to just “F” screams confusion.

Become a Patron!

Hey folks, do you enjoy the content on this blog? I can only take the time to do longer things like this, because I have patrons supporting me! Why not become a patron, and support the creation of more free material! Or you could even become a sponsor, and get me to link to YOUR content!

Top Ten RPG Mash-Ups! (2017 edition)

I haven’t done a new Top Ten list for a while, so in-between bouts of cleaning up my modeling mess last night, I wrote:

Top Ten RPG Mash-Ups! (2017 edition)

#10. Dungeons & Danger International, 6th edition
(Still a non-existent classic! Back cover promises “The Ultimate Game of 1970s and ‘80s Action Heroes going into Ancient Tombs, Killing Things, and Taking Their Stuff. Also, terrorists.”)
(And the main villain group is the “Department of Raids, Anarchy, and Generating Ongoing Nightmares”)
(And yes, the equipment lists include Vorpal Uzis, +5 Holy Walther PPKs, and Hip Flasks of Holding.)

#9. Deadlands: Hell on EarthDawn
(The foreword is “Even in an Underground Vault, Things Have Gone To Hell.”)

#8. Legend of the Five Fading Suns
(Honestly you’ll barely notice the difference.)

#7. XCrawl of Cthulhu
(It’s the game of professional cultist-killing reality TV, for ratings and glory, and the constant risk of going insane or accidentally destroying the world. Character Creation is titled “There Won’t Be Season Two!”)

#6. Weird War 40,000
(In the Grim Darkness of the 1940s, there is only War. And Panzers. And jetpacks. And Psychic Russian Half-Chimpanzees.)

#5. 7th SenZar, 2nd Edition
(Tagline: “It’s Still gaming in God Mode. It’s just… look have you READ any classic mythology? Gods have to deal with politics, and romance, and sometimes getting killed. Yeah, we added a story.”)

#4. Mutants & MasterMage: The Awakening
(The first supplement is “Magic and Superpowers and Complications, Oh My!”)

#3. TrekWarFinder
(The word “Star” does not appear in this sci-fi RPG. Not even once. Except just now, but that’s it.)

#2. Eclipse Phaser
(With Chapter Six being “Yes, you can play a hologram. Or a half-Vulcan. Or just about anything, really. But you have to be part of Star Fleet: Firewall Division.”)

#1. Shadow of the Toon Lord
(And its launch adventure, “Who Summoned Roger Rabid?”)

Become a Patron!

Hey folks, do you enjoy the content on this blog? I can only take the time to do longer things like this, because I have patrons supporting me! Why not become a patron, and support the creation of more free material! Or you could even become a sponsor, and get me to link to YOUR content!

 

Flumph Noir

Aberrant Report

It was a humid night, as Mhuoomphies forced air out his cloaca to hover pensively by the office window. It was the kind of night where a tentacle might be slick with something other than condensation.

His office was cluttered with images, each a fuzzy impression of a scene, projected from crystals floating apparently at random about the room. He reached out with a 7-tentacle, the scarred one, and spun one of the crystals. The out-fo-focus image spun with it, the psychic impression of a witness, able to be seen from any angle.

The witnesses all thought they knew what they had seen, but both the out-of-focus perfect psionic impressions and long experience told Mhuoomphies otherwise. Creatures thought their memories were perfect images, ingrained forever like stone carvings. But the mind of a sentient didn’t work that way. Emotions, distractions, preconceived notions, and bigotry flavored every thing every thinking creature remembered. In the flumph’s experience, many evils could be traced to different memories of the same events.

But there were hints of the truth in the memory-crystal’s images as well. Certainly SOMETHING had happened. The image of the adolescent iron-eater, rolled on her back, antennae straight in fear and shock, were similar in most of the images. Some showed her as larger or more aggressive, but metal-users usually despised and misunderstood iron-eaters. And even those who remembered the even as the adolescent’s fault remembered the position of her body, on it’s back, wing-tail raised in defense. They might think they remembered her being the attacker, but they were fooling themselves.

The true attacker was shown in fewer memories, and the image was much more indistinct. A red cloak was featured in more than half, but Mhuoomphies was suspicious of that. There had been a great deal of blood. Sentients often added red to a scene where blood has splashed like cheap ale.

The creature had been tall… maybe. Hunched… maybe. Neither detail was shown in monroe than a quarter of the memory images. And one, just one, showed an arm made of a swarm of roaches jutting out from a crimson robe, rather than a cloak.

That memory was alone in that detail, but it was otherwise so crisp. And it made Mhouoomphies port outages nozzle whistle a low, sad sound. He has never hoped so strongly for a witness to be unreliable.

Because the young iron-eater had been killed, and he hoped it was a simple hate crime, or a political gambit to convince the iron-eaters to continue to mine for a smaller share of the ferrous metals they unearthed. Those were terrible reasons to kill, but there weren’t any good reasons. The young iron-eater was dead, and the clumpy couldn’t change that. If the reason for her death was simple, he could gain justice quickly. He would have no living help.

When an aberrant race died, none of the breathing Lamplighters took it seriously. Aboleth crime lords and cloaked gangs had eroded any goodwill bipedal vertebrates felt for all his kind. And even those who wanted to care had too many other crimes on their plate. Only Mhuoomphies had the time, and only he was trusted by anyone in the Aberrant communities.

And with iron-eaters on strike, and the dark naga pressing for full voting rights, this needed to get handled fast. Even the Metalhearts might decide…

The flumph’s office door burst opened, the brief scream of its metal lock bending and shattering the only warning before it gave way. A lurking metallic humanoid stood in the doorway, a bullseye lantern in its chest leaking light through the cracks, despite being shuttered.

“You are the Aberrant Lamplighter, Muffles?”

Two of the flumph’s starboard vents honked quietly in annoyance. He pursed his feedhole, and forced air through it to emulate the annoying, imperfect language of the bipeds. He also pooled caustics into his adamantine-tipped primespike, in case the creature was hostile, rather than just dangerously bumbling.

“Mhuoomphies. ArchLantern, Mhuoomphies.”

The metallic creature nodded once.

“I am Malakrut. I am a fresh forged Spark. The LawKeepers have assigned me to assist and monitor your efforts to enforce the laws of DarkStar Station, in the matter of a slain iron-eater in the abnormals district.”

Mhuoomphies felt himself relax, and sucked his caustics back into their reservoir. Of course he would be saddled with a rookie to report his every misstep.

It was Inevitable.

(Do you enjoy the content on this blog? Why not become a patron, and support the creation of more free material! Or you could even become a sponsor, and get me to link to YOUR content!)


Telekinetic Message

Based on a typo discovered today.
Telekinetic Message (tranmutation, level 0, 1 target, long range).
The target feels a force briefly pressing into his forehead. this can clearly be felt to be in the shape of an upraised middle finger. this spell is considered the psychic equivalent of yelling “Hey Stupid!”

DungeonBall!

The Midvale Murder Hobos are making a run for the scoring zone, with number 12, “Doomed” Dwalvitsky gripping the d-ball in both hands to qualify for the score. An ogre hits Dwalvitsky, but the dwarven halfback is just plowing toward the zone. He’s bleeding, but the Hobos’ morale coordinator, Brother Turpin, shoots out some buffs. There’s just seconds left in the segment, the crowd is on their feet, Dwalvitsky puts his head down and rushes a worg blockers, and…. Score! The Murder Hobos score! They win the Temple of Hill Giant Evil cup!

DungeonBall is a ridiculous way to play the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game to combine sports tropes in the mix of fantasy and adventure tropes. It’s a simple set of add-on rules to simulate sport-dungeon-stomping, presumably in a word where that is televised (or broadcast by crystal ball) for entertainment of the masses.

While all game rules not specifically altered by these rules work normally, no one actually dies. If you die in a game of DungeonBall, you just sit out the game as a penalty. You’re back next week.

Rules

DungeonBall plays just like a normal combat-heavy rpg session. It just has some Requirements, Positions, and Penalties.

Requirements

Your team has to carry the DungeonBall (or “d-ball”).
*A d-ball is a one-foot cube with a handle in the middle of each side. It weighs 20 pounds, has hardness 50 and 10,000 hit points, is immune to anything that doesn’t affect objects, can’t be teleported or taken to another plane or made invisible, can’t be concealed (even in total darkness, everyone can see the d-ball), makes all its own saving throw (and always gets them)
*A stationary d-ball has an AC (touch and full) of 10 – it’s size adjusts perfectly for its immobility.
*It is a simple ranged weapon, with a range increment of 5 feet. It deals 1d6 points of damage. If it is thrown at you and hits your touch AC, you may attempt to catch it as an attack of opportunity (due to its easily-grabbed nature). You must hit a touch AC of 15 + 1 per square it was thrown. If it passes by you or arrives in an adjacent square you may attempt to snatch it out of the air as an attack of opportunity. To do this you must hit an AC of 20 + 1 per square thrown. If two character attempt to grab a thrown d-ball at once, they make competing Reflex saves, with the highest save grabbing it first. If they have the same result they both grab it, and are in a grapple until one of them wins a grapple check to wrest it away from the other.
*A member of your team must have the d-ball held openly in at least one hand if it is possible for any member of your team to do so. If the d-ball is available to your team, and a full round passes without some member carrying it, that’s a penalty (see below).
*If no member of your team has the d-ball held openly in at least one hand, your foes take no damage and suffer no penalties, and make all their saving throws, until your team holds the d-ball. The foes can affect your team normally. Obviously, it is to their advantage to get the d-ball away from you. You can use combat maneuvers to disarm or steal the d-ball normally.

Your team must be in the encounter.
*If the GM maps out the encounter, all characters on the team must be on that map before anyone is allowed to do anything. If a character leaves or doesn’t make it to the map, that’s a penalty (see below). If the GM doesn’t map out the encounter, all members of the team must be close enough the GM agrees they are “part of the encounter.”
*You can be on other planes for long enough to teleport, but otherwise being on a plane other than the one holding the encounter is a penalty (see below).

Each encounter runs a total of 10 rounds maximum.
*If you haven’t ended the encounter within 10 rounds, you get no points (and may lose points, see “scoring”).

To end an encounter, your team must have an active (not helpless or dead) member holding the d-ball in BOTH hands in the scoring zone.
*Every encounter has a 10-foot-square of space, usually far from where the team begins, which is the scoring zone. For the first 6 rounds of an encounter a character must stand there for a full round, holding the ball in both hands the whole time, to end the encounter. In rounds 7-10. The character just has to be in the zone with the d-ball in both hands and not dead or helpless.

Your team must be made of characters that fill the official positions (below).
No exception to this one – no characters that don’t fill a position, no team with too many characters filling limited positions, and no team that doesn’t have all the mandatory positions.

Positions

Center: The center is the only character allowed to have a character under their control. Whether it’s a summoner with an eidolon, a druid or ranger with an animal companion, a character casting charm person, a witch with a familiar, or a cleric summoning monsters, only the center may have another character under their control in this way. A team may have at most one center.

Forward: A forward cannot have any spellcasting ability, or any class-granted spell-like abilities. A forward gains a +5 bonus to movement (even in armor) and a bonus equal to half their level (minimum +1) to rolls to throw or catch the d-ball. Every team must have at least one forward.

Halfback: A halfback must have a base attack bonus equal to character level. You can multiclass, but only among full-base-attack bonus classes. Every team must have at least one halfback. You cannot have your forward also be your halfback.

Morale Coordinator: The morale coordinator (some teams use specific cheer- or coaching-based names or this role) cannot attack anyone or anything (using the definition of attack for invisibility), and cannot be attacked by anyone (but suffer traps and hazards normally). They do not threaten, but do take up their space and prevent charging through them by foes. They cannot carry, or even tough, the d-ball. A team may have at most one morale coordinator.

Shield Guard: Any legal character that doesn’t violate the rules of your teams minimums and maximums of other positions is a guard.

Spell Guard: Only the spell guard may have more than half their class levels be in classes with access to 9th-level spells. A team may have at most one spell guard. A spell guard may also be the team’s center, but that puts two limited roles in a single character.

Penalties

Within the fictional world of DungeonBall, the Dungeon Umpire calls a penalty, stops all activity, explains it, applies it, and then restarts the game. Magic prevents things like durations from continuing during this time and everyone is moved back to their exact position (and momentum – even if you are falling, that action is suspended during a penalty call), so a GM running a DungeonBall game can just call a penalty between player turns, then have the game continue as normal.

Penalties are based on a team’s AP:(average party level).
Common penalties that may actually come up during the game include–

*Ignoring the Plot: If the d-ball is available to the team, and the team isn’t openly carrying it for a full round or more, all team members take 1d6 damage per APL.
*Off the Rails: If a character doesn’t make it to the encounter or leaves the encounter, all movement rates of all team members is halved for a number of rounds equal to twice the time the character isn’t in the encounter.
*Different Dungeon: If a character is on another plane for as much as a move action of time, the encounter adds a random monster equal to the group’s APL. This monster can communicate with and works with existing foes of the team.

Scoring

If you complete an encounter, you get a number of points equal to the encounter’s CR minus your team’s APL (this can be negative), plus 1 point for each round remaining in the 1-round timer. If time runs out, you get any negative value of CR – APL, -2 more points. Your total score is the value of all encounters in a dungeon.
*This really only matters if the GM sets a target value, like requiring you to get 10 points in 2 encounters to “win,” or if multiple teams compete by running through the same dungeon as two different DungeonBall teams.

This post was Sponsored By: That Boomer Kid!
Want even MORE things that make you think about your campaign differently? From Pathfinder RPG game material to memes and designer notes, go check out That Boomer Kid! With rules and concepts that are part of a complete breakfast!

(Do you enjoy the content on this blog? Why not become a patron, and support the creation of more free material! You could even become a sponsor yourself!)

Warrior Christmas

“So what does Santa do the other 363 days a year?”
“He kills people.”
“WHAT?!?”
“Well, he mostly sends Krampus and Père Fouettard for minor wetworks, but for big targets the Kringlenator does the deed himself. Knecht Ruprecht keeps the operation’s books. That naughty list doesn’t whittle itself down you know, and if you were an immortal with perfect knowledge of people’s sins, the ability to access any stronghold, instant transportation, and limitless wealth and resources, what would YOU do with it?”
“Get laid?”
“And Mrs. Claus is a hottie, to be sure. But she can also gut a man with a cookie cutter in 5 seconds flat.”
(Do you enjoy the content on this blog? Why not become a patron, and support more free material!)

The Wednesday Bad Idea

Ooze-based humanoids.
Globlins.

 

(Like that short, silly idea? Support my Patreon, and I’ll do more of them!)

Silly Scares: Shark-Hazards

Silly Scares are super short Pathfinder rules to add a bit of a fright to a fear-themed game, without getting at all serious.

Shark- (Simple Hazard Template, +2 CR)

The Shark- (read “shark blank”) template increases the danger of hazards by making them shark-related. Thus a forest fire becomes a “shark-forest fire,” clearly a case where a shark-forest catches on fire.

When a shark-hazard forces a character to make a saving throw, or it makes an attack against a character, or it deals damage to a character, the sharkiness of it also makes an attack. This is a bite. It has an attack bonus equal to the CR of the hazard x1.5, and deals 1d8 damage per 2 CR of the encounter. Any one event only results in a single attack

So if caught in a CR 8 shark-forest fire, each time a character had to make a Fortitude save to avoid nonlethal heat damage, the character would also be subject to a shark bite (+12 to hit, 4d8 damage). Even if the character both failed a save and took heat damage, the character would still be subject to only a single bite attack.

Any skill to identify a hazard gains a bonus equal to the hazard’s CR if it is a shark-hazard. Because an entire shark-forest burning is hard to miss.

A shark-hazard returns after 1 year + 4d20 – 4d20 days if it is not destroyed properly. (This is often referred to as a “sequel” to the original shark hazard.) Destroying it properly requires a complex plan capable to both ending the hazard, and simultaneously killing a number of sharks equal to double the hazard’s CR.

It doesn’t matter what the plan is, as long as it is complex, ends a normal hazard, and kills a bunch of sharks.

(Do you enjoy the content on this blog? Why not become a patron, and support more free material?)

Silly Scares: Drunken Spirits

Silly Scares are super short Pathfinder rules to add a bit of a fright to a fear-themed game, without getting at all serious.

Drunken Spirit (Simple Template, +2 CR)

A drunken spirit is a form of ghost that died while tripping balls. It only exists for, and can only interact with, creatures that are suffering the staggered condition, or are sickened as a result of drinking too much alcohol. For other characters the drunk spirit cannot be seen, affected by any spell or ability, or even confirmed to exist by anything up to 9and including) miracle and wish.

Similarly, the drunken spirit can do nothing to those who cannot affect it. The drunken spirit treats itself as incorporeal for all unattended, inanimate objects, so it walks through walls and can’t pick up or throw rocks. (A giant with the drunken spirit template can still use its throw rocks ability, but they are steins of sloshing booze).

Any creature can have this template. Although it is theoretically an undead, it doesn’t act like an undead for creatures that can interact with it, and can’t be affected by other creatures, so that doesn’t matter.

Any affect that can sober up a creature damages a drunken spirit (roughly 1d6 points of damage per spell level of the effect), and anything that makes you drunk heals them.

An easy way to introduce a drunken spirit is to have one appear when a character is staggered, and then it follows that character until it is seen again. This can also be a kind of horror for play and character alike, as the GM assures other players the PC claiming to see something is wrong, while that character takes damage. For an extra level of confusion, you can decide any damage the drunken spirit deals to the staggered of drunk PC appears self-inflicted.