The meeting place for Diadotus of Marakanda and Kleandros of Alexandria on the Caucasus
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Diadotus had led twenty Persian, Greek and Macedonian riders to the location. The Macedonians, mostly veterans from the Hetairoi, wore rich and glittering armor and overflowed with displays of wealth and decadence in their clothing. The Greeks had been no better, only they handled the horse much worse. The Persian Hillmen had no such riches to speak off, still they were the ones who would draw eyes. It had been a struggle for him to keep peace between them and realize Alexander's dream of one nation, one culture and etc. Thought it had been in miniature scale it worked pretty good for him so far. A few fights had broken out in the streets but nothing that he couldn't pay off or silence with violence. He pulled the reigns to halt his mare and awaited Kleandros in the empty plain.





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