"...the house stood, and other men lived in it and were sheltered well in it."

What am I going to say here. I really don't have much to say. I should probably introduce myself, but I like making people wait. While they're waiting, I'm appreciating the time, how it ticks past one moment after the next, in a big long string of moments.

Okay, fine, I'm Sal. Welcome to the Raw Youth Hostel. (And if you mention those movies, I will kill you. Slowly.) We're in the city of None Of Your Business. It also goes by "Nunya."

What is the Raw Youth Hostel? Well, let me just quote Wikipedia here: "Hostels provide budget oriented, sociable accommodation where guests can rent a bed, usually a bunk bed, in a dormitory and share a bathroom, lounge and sometimes a kitchen. [...] Hostels are generally cheaper for both the operator and the occupants; many hostels have long-term residents whom they employ as desk clerks or housekeeping staff in exchange for free accommodation."

So, yeah, that's what this place is. Rooms are twenty-five dollars a night, less if you are actually going to work here during your stay. We do have a kitchen on the first floor and there are communal bathrooms on the second and third floor at the end of the hall.

We also tend to cater to a more unusual clientele. These people are usually on the run, not from the law, but rather from...unusual things. Eldritch things. You probably call them Fears.

We offer runners a discount, of course, and we even have someone on staff who has some medical background to help anyone who is injured and afraid of going to the hospital.

From what I've heard some runners say...they say that we're part of the underground, as if we're part of a resistance or something. We're just trying to help people, but we try to stay off the radar and we try to make sure things go smoothly (though it doesn't always work out like that). But, if they want to call us part of the underground, I guess that's okay. I guess we're part of the underground then.

Bully for us.