The Whitespring

The Whitespring is a term used to refer to the entirety of the Whitespring Resort and its grounds, comprised of several locations bearing its namesake in the Forest region of Appalachia.

Background
Built in 1858 and named after White Sulphur Springs, the natural sulphur spring on the grounds, the Whitespring was famous for its Southern style. The Whitespring Resort had a historical association with the federal government and counted 31 sitting U.S. presidents among its guests by 2077, 12 of them in the The Whitespring Presidential Cottage and Museum.

Under great financial strain before the war, the Whitespring ceased to be profitable around 2065 and was forced to sell much of its surrounding land to generate funds for operation and back loans necessary for renovations and upgrades.

2080 Initiative
One such project was the 2080 Initiative, which was announced in May 27, 2075. This major five year renovation included the Homesteads, Springhill Golf Course, the Ironclad Service, and Modern Heritage projects, as well as enhanced business class facilities and events. The plan was intended to revitalize the flagging resort and "secure its place among the world's premier vacation destinations for generations to come."

Enclave bunker
The Whitespring's financial troubles also made it particularly vulnerable to the machinations of Thomas Eckhart, who funded the creation of the Whitespring bunker beneath the resort and subsequently invested heavily in the Whitespring's architecture. The bunker was a massive, automated facility to be used as shelter by members of the Enclave. As the bunker grew beneath the resort, the hotel's computer network was connected to MODUS and all terminals within it isolated away from it. All conduits were sealed and hidden, with technical specifications falsified to conceal the connections to the bunker. Few investigated the matter or the sheer extent of the infrastructural upgrades.

The Enclave was ensuring the resort would act as a surface stronghold for their operations. The Whitespring was ideal not just because of its remote location and the ease with which land could be acquired, but also the geography: Mountains, prevailing winds, and constant robot oversight would minimize nuclear fallout, while the bunker's fully automated manufacturing and fabrication system could instantly replace any robots lost. It was cutting edge technology, well above the indebted hotel's ability to afford.

Ironclad Service initiative
By July 2077, the resort's situation was far from ideal. Half the land was sold to keep the resort going and the Initiative had yet to bear fruit. Out of a hundred lots planned for Homesteads, only five were sold. As a financial linchpin of the Initiative, one that the hotel sold half its land for, this was nothing less than a disaster. That revenue was necessary to prop up the capital improvement loans for Springhill, Ironclad and Heritage stages of the Initiative, and just to keep investors on board. Manager James Wilcox and the board tried to bury the reports from investors to avoid instant collapse.

Ironclad security robots replaced the remaining security and groundskeeping staff, and the Whitespring moved to replace personnel throughout the hotel over the next few months. Staff was expected to assist in training their replacements. The employees took it poorly, which was to be expected.

The resort's staff reacted negatively to the Ironclad Service, causing many to leave or plan to leave for new jobs. The Ironclad Service subsequently became a public relations nightmare in which the Charleston Herald depicted the resort's management as another big corporation's reliance on robots over a human workforce. Furthermore, the Homesteads project, which was a financial linchpin of the Initiative, failed to raise the desired revenue to prop up the capital improvement loans. Those who didn't leave were forced far into debt just to make ends meet. Robotic malfunctions were greeted with glee, as they meant extensions for those few who needed it.

By August, the Business Class initiative had failed. General Atomics and RobCo both backed out when they learned Whitespring wasn't going single-source for Ironclad, and when they demanded that the Whitespring comp the Starlight Holiday Movie Spectacular list of celebrities, even the board balked. Hubris canceled their arrangements as well. The only corporation left on the field was Nuka-Cola, with the caveat that guests would use Nuka-Cola bottlecaps as currency for the duration of the promotion, part of the Nuka-Cola Quantum marketing campaign. It was corporate sponsorship in name only.

Springhill renovation
As of September, the Springhill renovation project was failing. Whitespring CEO Wilbur Ainsley III had his son Ryan Ainsley appointed "lead architect" despite having no experience and trained as a nuclear engineer. Against his son's wishes, the project never-the-less was handed to him, and quickly devolved. The renovation fell behind schedule, over budget, and ended up nowhere near complete, with patrons voicing their disappointment with what had previously been a championship golf course. Wilcox insisted Ryan be fired, and upon this request, received a threat that he would be the individual fired if he pursued the matter.

When October came, most of the staff was already forced off the premises, with only a scant few lingering, working without pay or on extensions to cover for malfunctioning robots. It turned out that replacing service workers with robots was a poor idea at best. Robots chosen were military-grade robots, not dedicated platforms. The masseuses were the most egregious problems, as Assaultrons never had fine-pressure sensors and were constantly causing spinal injuries. Beyond that, the bellmen lost two dozen suitcases in one week, robot chefs set fires to kitchenettes on fire and even something as simple as selling sweets turned out to be a catastrophe as the robot flooded the candy shop with dark chocolate.

The Great War
When the Great War began, nearly all of the staff and guests fled the resort. Only four staff members, 92 guests, and approximately 500 hundred robots remained at the resort. Joyce Easton, a clerk who was manning the Candy Shoppe counter at the time, was chosen by the remaining staff to take charge. Lew Palmest reprogrammed the robots to recognize her as Assistant Manager the following day. Joyce immediately organized the staff, sealing the hotel, and making sure no one else got in or out until the radiation settled. Others were to take inventory and retool robots for combat. The surviving guests took it well enough, with those who wanted to get out doing so immediately upon hearing the news, while others decided being trapped at one of the world's best resorts was not the worst fate in the world. The only potential source of the problem, Whitespring executives, were quickly pacified when they realized it was Easton who controlled the robots.

By December, the inventory was complete. With so few people left on the property, there was food enough to last years, even a decade. Other supplies were also well-stocked, including clothing, medicine, spare parts, generators, guns and ammunition. The Whitespring was well supplied and prepared for the future. It made it possible for them to survive the winter in relative comfort - unlike the Pleasant Valley Ski Resort guests and staff - and survive. The terrifying winter of 2077/2078 was harsh and the last snow only melted in mid-July. Easton sent out teams of scavengers to pick through the cars and cottages for supplies. By late August, refugees appeared on the roads, but Easton made the decision to lock down the Whitespring and only let people she approved of. Appalachia might have been a place where one helped others, but she believed it couldn't be done, not in a situation where it was a real, present threat to your people.

Her optimism ran out in December, just as the Modern Heritage remodeling was planned to begin. Despite Lew's work, the renovations were deeply embedded in the routines of the robots. The same force that deprived the workers of the Whitespring of their livelihood would now deprive the survivors of the same come January 1, 2079. The guests and staff were locked out of their rooms, then a mandatory update would cause them to kick the "vagrants" - lingering guests and staff - out as vagrants, until the state building inspector arrived, that is. Knowing the inspector's arrival was unlikely, the staff and guests decided to do their best and prepare. Wilderness classes started at the Artisan's Corner, sportsmen gave shooting and self-defense lessons on the putting green, while Easton distributed the remaining stockpile of supplies on the New Year's gala to ensure everyone was prepared for the road ahead.

A few of the survivors chose to try overpowering the robots at the Whitespring Golf Club rather than leave the resort and the rest of the survivors fled. Paula and Joyce headed a caravan to Charleston, Lew and some of his friends decided to take their chances with the robots at the Whitespring Golf Club, while some others decided to risk and go to Sunnytop Ski Lanes and Pleasant Valley to see if the resorts there could take them in. The Whitespring remained abandoned for years, locked down, and maintained by its robotic custodial staff. It was not until May 30, 2086, that a person going by the initials O.R. managed to disable the lockdown and open the Whitespring's public facilities for use by the wasteland.

Layout
The Whitespring is a vast area unto itself, surrounded by a fence, golf course, and patrolled by an army of robots. The resort itself is almost pristine in its condition with the robotic staff taking every measure necessary to ensure it is maintained.

Appearances
The Whitespring appears only in Fallout 76.