You look up to see a wall blocking the pass, some hundred paces ahead. It is a mighty construction, sixty feet high or more with a stout gate at its center, all hewn of the same dark stone as the mountains that surround it. It pales in comparison, though, to what looms beyond—a towering fortress that almost seems to grow, organically, from the mountain that borders the pass on its right-hand side. Both the wall and the fortress have a strange aspect to them—though it is hard to say exactly what that aspect is. They're not like the vibrant hubs of Anselm's Landing and Stonerun, but rather strange, somber things, whose windows look out like dead eyes upon the bleak landscape.
You spur your horse closer, and notice that, on the towers of the gatehouse at the wall's center, there are carved reliefs just like the one you saw on the ruined tower: the eight-spoked wheel.
"Who are you?" comes a voice from above, and you look up to see a figure standing atop the wall. "Why have you come to the Citadel?"