Carnage

It is a beautifull day at (place name here), your clan is enjoying the sun while following their daily activities. Suddenly, the peacefull atmosphere is disrupted by the deafening roar of a dark red Mirror dragon. His spiked, red armor is dent and scratched, a giant, rusty cleaver hangs at his side and parts of his body seem to be plated with brass, streaks of flames glowing under the edges of the metal parts and on his wings. With the dull sound of metal hitting stone he lands amidst your clan, hissing at everyone who didn´t back away fast enough, and gives your clan leader a three-eyed glare full of hardly contained bloodlust, one of his eyes blinded by a scar that runs over his face. His every move filled with arrogance, he reaches under his wing, brings forth a canvas bag and tosses it at the feet of your clan leader. The bag is soaked with some unknown liquid, twitches occasionally as something inside of it struggles to get free and reeks of death and decay.
“The Plaguemother sends her regards,“
he snarls, unfolds his wings and takes flight, leaving nothing but four pawprints of half-dried blood on the floor and the disgusting bag of (deity here)-knows-what. Nobody really dares to get close to it, but you can´t just leave it there, as it´s smell gets worse with every minute it´s sitting in the burning sun. Finally, one brave dragon carefully unties the knot and opens the sack...