The Whitlock Family
Long rumored as key figures in the company of NecroTech and supposed to have vast fortunes centered in central Africa, the Whitlock Family is one of Malton's most longstanding lines of citizenry. And, whether or not you agree with the rumors, there is no doubting their importance in the city's history.
Early History
The first Whitlocks came to the area in 1770, exactly 50 years before the official founding of Malton. They consisted of a single family seeking a quiet life away from the horrible pollution of the big cities and eventually came to settle in the quiet woodlands northeast of the main grouping of villages. The family consisted of Virgil Whitlock, his wife Myrna, and their son, Xander.
The Whitlock Farm was completed in 1775, after several grueling years of work. Set against the main road leading into the maltons, the white farmhouse was always the traveler's first memory of the area, with the terraced fields climbing the hill behind it. Truly a sight.
Virgil died in 1782 from an outbreak of plague, Myrna the following year of a broken heart. That left Xander, then only ninteen, in charge of the farm- and the catalyst for an impressive discovery. While working the fields atop the hill one day, he came across a small bush of berries that appeared to be dying. The hollow the bush was resting in was brilliantly lit up- the berries, for some reason, glowed bright blue. Xander took a cutting from the bush and planted it in the cellar of the house, under a small skylight, and though he tended the bush from then on he gave it no more thought.
The bush's berries were never touched by Xander except once, and for good reason. On pure speculation he tried eating one, and for the entire rest of the day found himself unable to sit still- the berry's juices acted as a powerful stimulant, giving him insane amounts of energy. It was a good thing he was in town buying more seeds to plant (as he'd gone through his whole stock in just ten hours) when the stimulants wore off, because the low very nearly killed him, keeping him hospitalized for two days. Clearly something was needed to balance out the enormous letdown, but Xander was no scientist, and simply decided it was best to just work from now on.
Norton Whitlock
Xander grew up, grew old, had children, and passed away. Malton spread, and began engulfing the surrounding countryside. In September of 1889 plans were drawn up for the city's most northeast expansion yet- a suburb called Dulston, to act as a cornerstone for a vast line of cityscape stretching from there to Miltown, a small community recently absorbed into the city collective. Only to find themselves blocked headlong by an immensely obstinate farmer, who to the city's great dismay owned over half the land in the planned expansion area.
The man was Norton Whitlock, and the land was his. Norton had every reason to distrust city expansion- his father had died horribly in the city. Searching for the farming equipment store in Randalbank, Norton's father had blundered into Roachtown, where he was cornered by thugs in an alley and left to die in the gutter, found a day later by the police. Norton loved the countryside around him and to see it destroyed would likely be his death-knell, since a doctor had already pronounced him unable to work due to a heart condition. Hired help now did most of the work, which infuriated Norton, distressed to be stricken to bed and chair at the age of only 32.
Malton sent in their top negotiator. Gerard Wicks was a member of an offshoot of the famous Wyke family line, and had been instrumental in getting the city's changes ramrodded through Parliament, along with the funding for them to work. One farmer should have been no trouble.
It proved Gerard's most difficult challenge yet. Few excerpts from his memoirs survive, as their resting place of Cowie Library was burned down by some firebug shortly after the Outbreak, but several do survive. One from early January 1890 reads, "Have long grown weary of this obstinate farmer. For a tiller with a romantic bent towards the environment he is surprisingly charismatic, but Fatum Praevaleo (the Wyke Family motto, destined to prevail, which Gerard used as something of a mantra). Perhaps I've simply been going at this from the wrong angle."
Eventually a deal was struck. The city would move in on one condition- that the environment could be maintained in a fair balance with the city. Though the balance was eventually tipped, Dulston today remains the most leafy and green of all the Malton suburbs- the numerous residental roads and districts are packed solid on the edges with the elms, oak, ash, and beech trees that Norton loved so much.
Norton's heart condition gradually improved as he continued on in life, and after learning to slow down and take things easily he found his life much easier. For the remainder of his years he lived rather peacefully, right up until his horribly violent end. Taking a trip to Southampton in late 1940, he was caught in the city as the German war machine began its much-vaunted "Blitz". He died from a near-direct hit by a bomb, after pushing a young man and his child out of the way of the blast.
Graham Whitlock
Graham Exeter Whitlock. Born October 27th, 1895 A.D., in St. Anacletus' Hospital (while it was still being built!). Ph.Ds in Chemistry and Biology, MD in Surgery. Two decorations for valor in the British Fourth Army under Rawlinson during the Battle of the Somme, including an Order of Merit. A commendation from the Mayor of Malton for incredible tenacity in a civilian. And possibly the most important man in Malton history today.
Graham Whitlock was born into a city being born- Dulston was still being constructed and planned as he joined us in this world, and from the first day of his life he showed a fascination with the workings of it. Interested early in medicine and a prodigy of the area, he graduated from the university of Bristol in December 1914 with a surgical degree (at age 19), and dove straight into the field of biochemistry. When England went to war he signed up with the Medical Corps, and found himself attached to the Fourth Army when it went to battle in the Somme Valley. It was there that he earned his citations- during the battle of Flers-Courcelette, he (a doctor and surgeon in a field hospital) singlehandedly killed eight German soldiers who had been firing on the encampment. The episode earned him a bullet in the hip- while recuperating, he celebrated his twentieth birthday.
Returning home, he went back to university to gain his Ph.Ds, and eventually returned to Malton in the private sector, tending the family farm on the site of what is now MacKlin Park and selling vegetables in the large open market to the south. When another great war rolled around and the Luftwaffe began pounding Malton's heavily industrialized north, Graham earned his citation from the mayor- during a particularly bad raid in April 1941, with the gun crew drunk on duty, he climbed the Naisbitt Building's stairs himself at the age of 47 despite his bad hip and manned the anti-aircraft gun alone for nearly three hours, driving the bombers away from the precious factories of Dulston and Rhodenbank. After that, though, he began to fade into obscurity, and would have been forgotten altogether were it not for one thing- his friendship with a certain Appolonius V. Kersley.
Kersley was at that point just getting into the swing of his eccentric career, the details of which are outlined in the few records to survive the gutting of the Kersley Mansion basement laboratory. Appolonius was at that point obsessing over the death of one of his children, who had fallen from the gable of the mansion, and often came up to the suburb to mull the problem over with his friend from the war (Kersley had served as a message boy in the Battle of the Somme and had once delivered a message to Whitlock's hospital under fire; he attributed his survival entirely to the doctor, for some reason). He claimed to have developed a powerful concotion that could possibly revive his son, but the problem was that it was inert. Nothing he could do would make it mesh properly with the boy's blood, or anyone's blood for that matter. He needed a powerful catalyst. And for some reason, at a blurred date in 1947, Graham decided to show Kersley the plant in the cellar.
Kersley was overjoyed- the plant was precisely what he needed. Vaccinum cyanococcus lambenta, literally "glowing blueberry", was registered as discovered by Graham Whitlock in 1948 with the British Registry, and was quickly forgotten- a big mistake. Graham was quite the accomplished scientist himself and, after a time of study, isolated the component behind both the odd glowing fucntion of the berries and their incredible effect- a chemical compound that he promptly dubbed icenodrine sceptimus, for God knows what reason.
Work went on all through the year, and just prior to the public appearance of Willum J. Kersley, Appolonius died of a heart attack while walking down Salvage Row. Though nothing was seen of his dead son again, his final report claimed the project an unheard-of success. Willum evidently agreed; folowing the funeral he contacted Professor Whitlock again, offering him a position on his new startup, NecroTech. Graham agreed, and for the rest of his days worked happily with NecroTech in the building named in his honor, constructed on the site of the old hill where once young Xander had found the key to the town's future survival.
Joseph Whitlock
Graham died in 1996, at the age of 101, with his last words being "Go forth boldly, young man," to a nobody low-level technician. He died a bachelor, but not alone- he was survived by the last heir to the Whitlock line, one Joseph Whitlock, who would have been Graham's nephew thrice removed. A noted filanderer, treasure hunter, and all-around good timer, Joseph came to Malton after the Outbreak to seek the rumored fortune of Graham's family and found himself trapped in the city. For the record, Graham gave most all of his money to charity- his final bank balance was $73.91.
