A Warforged walks in a tavern, goes quietly to a corner of the bar and stands stock still. Upon its head rests a withered, moth-eaten, one-eyed old owl. The barkeep takes notice but has several patrons to tend and has yet to make a copper on serving any Warforged a drink. After a few minutes the owl lets out with a deafening screech, wailing like the souls of the damned. When finally the mind-searing shriek is over and the bar patrons crawl out from under the tables, the barkeep rushes over and says "You've got to get the bird outta here. It's going to ruin my night."
With an almost imperceptible tilt of its head, the Warforged says "THIS UNIT REQUIRES ALE."
A puzzled barkeep replies "But, er, well... I didn't think you, ah, people, um, drink?"
The Warforged pulls a hefty purse from some hidden location and reiterates "THIS UNIT REQUIRES ALE."
"OK, OK", says the barkeep whilst eying the bulging purse, "I'll get you an ale but then you and that bird gotta go before it deafens us all."
Drawing his biggest flagon full of ale, the barkeep sets it down in front of the construct. As soon as the flagon is on the bar, down hops the crusty, monocular owl from the Warforged's head and proceeds to drain it to the bottom. When finished, it fluttered its battered wings in a flurry of foul feathers and alighted back on its previous perch where it closed its good eye and fell asleep.
"What", the barkeeps asks with a look of disbelief playing across his face, "the hell is that all about.?"
"THIS UNIT IS THE RECIPIENT OF A CURSE", replies the stoic machine.
"A curse?" says the barkeep incredulously, "What kind of curse".
"THIS UNIT MUST FOREVER AND IN ALL WAYS PERMIT AND MAINTAIN THE PRESENCE OF THE CREATURE NOW RESIDING UPON ITS HEAD." drones the Warforged with, perhaps, a small hint of regret buried in the waveform.
The barkeep rubs his stubbly chin and replies, "That's a strange one, alright. How did you come about having this, uh, friend of yours take up residence on your noggin?"
The Warforged, with an ever so slight re-tilt of it's head, says "A SMALL MISUNDERSTANDING OCCURRED OVER THE PROPOSED OWNERSHIP OF SOME SALVAGE ITEMS."
"Ooooh", said the barkeep, "Tried to jack a wizard of some loot did ya?"
"THAT WAS HIS SUPPOSITION", replied the warforged.
"But where does the owl fit into all this?" said the barkeep, "And why in the name of the Lord of Blades did it drink all that ale?"
"THE OWL EMBODIES THIS UNIT'S FAILURE OF WISDOM." said the Warforged, "IT REMAINS A CONSTANT REMINDER BY EMITTING THE WAILING HEARD RECENTLY. IT DOES THIS AT INOPPORTUNE MOMENTS WHILE IT IS AWAKE. IT ALSO HAS A PENCHANT FOR ALE."
The barkeep nodded in understanding and said, "So, you're telling me that as long as you keep giving it..."
"CORRECT", interrupted the Warforged and continued, "OWL'S ALE THAT ENDS WAIL."