Alfredo Fiorenzo Kendal

Assistant Alfredo Fiorenzo Kendal—though he insists you call him “Alf”—is the sort of man whose life seems to be choreographed by fate’s own hand. Sixty-two years old, barely five foot two, with a wiry frame and black hair just beginning to silver at the edges, he carries himself with the ease of someone who believes the universe is conspiring in his favor. And, oddly enough, it usually is. Alf has an uncanny knack for being in the right place at the right time, stumbling into solutions, resources, and opportunities without any visible effort. To some, it’s luck. To him, it’s simply the way things work when you stay open, friendly, and willing to talk to anyone.

His friendliness borders on reckless openness—he treats strangers like old friends, sharing personal details without hesitation. Every conversation is peppered with puns, clever turns of phrase, and playful linguistic detours; he speaks of language as though it were paint and every sentence a small canvas. Those who appreciate wordplay find in him a willing duelist, trading quips like sword strikes until both sides are grinning.

A proud member of The Scribes, Alf’s skills shine brightest within the library’s walls. Give him a stack of books and a question, and he will unearth the answer with precision—his investigative instincts as sharp as any scholar’s, and well-honed to a near supernatural +10 advantage. It’s here that his ideals come into focus: he believes in the greater good of Camp Hope, in the idea that the success of one is bound to the success of all. Helping others is not charity to him—it’s the foundation of a thriving community.

But Alf carries a shadow in the form of a book. A dangerous one. Buried among the stacks, he discovered a forbidden text on controlling the Dark—knowledge the Scribes’ protocol demands be handed over for destruction. Alf couldn’t do it. To him, all knowledge is sacred, and the idea of erasing a piece of the world’s truth feels more dangerous than the content of the book itself. He hides it still, tucked away, a quiet rebellion against sanctioned ignorance.

He does keep one artifact openly: the first quill ever given to him as a Scribe, his so-called “lucky feather.” It’s a sentimental anchor, a talisman he never leaves behind. The only constant rival in his life is Forseti Rom, with whom enmity simmers, though Alf treats even his adversaries with an almost disarming cordiality.

Alf is human, son of Regina Mona and Meike Emidio Kendal, a man without gods but full of belief in people. His biases are plain—he favors humans and views The Awakened and The Others as lesser races—but he wears them openly, without the venom some might expect. In his mind, such distinctions are simply truths of the world as he sees it. And while his luck might run deep, it’s his openness, his curiosity, and his quiet defiance that make him more than just another old Scribe in the stacks.