Lying on The Willows, just opposite the New Reystone Prison in Yaleth, Routledge Hall is said to be the oldest surviving building in the Cities. Whether it actually predates the Thoj is debatable, but it has escaped the various conflagrations and conversions which have visited that building and kept its archaic character intact. Externally it is composed of sombre grey stone. Its facade is dominated by grandiose gatehouse, with a triple oriel, two gothic towers and stone carvings of the Dorlafan king's coat of arms and various Garran holy signs. Rather spurious ramparts run the length of the main building. It is four stories hall, the ground floor chiefly composed of an entrance hall and a slightly larger court room standing behind it, the pair linked by three decorated archways. Two grand facing flights of stairs lead up from the court room to a first-floor gallery which runs around the room. Routledge Hall was built in the early 600's and was originally a mansion for scions of the king's family. It was later converted into a royal archive, a function maintained by the Erish. Christoté was less impressed by what the damp hall did to manuscripts and turned it into an embassy for a time. Eventually, however, it was thrown open to the public as a forum-cum-art gallery. A large permanent collection of canvas paintings are displayed there, as well as numerous temporary exhibitions. Routledge's grand interiors have been renovated and it also houses assorted artefacts and curious from the Kingdom of Dorlaf days. During evenings it is a favoured spot for Chancellors to throw banquets (it is owned by the federal government) and also holds other parties, including a Garreday bash for those unable to get tickets for the Jalkin Town Hall one. Almost inevitably, a slew of ghost stories have attached themselves to Routledge Hall. A translucent lady is said to float along the gallery overlooking the court room and the spirit of a chef (apparently one who tried to poison a king but was forced to taste his own meal) allegedly haunts the kitchens. The most famous, however, concerns the brother of a 700's king whose wife, doubtless for the best reasons, cut his head off while he slept. The decapitated torso of the man is said to roam the hall at night, searching for either revenge or his head depending on which story is believed.