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Signe was born as a third child to Osmond Nightgold, younger brother of Duke Neddim Nightgold. It is said that her mother was screaming so loudly whole night that even nigh-legendary metalsmithing forges seem to be quiet like a windless ocean. The birth was very hard and troubling. Lord Osmond Nighthold was asked to visit his wife's chambers that night to make the hardest decision possible. The midwife said that just one life can be saved: a mother's or a baby's. Lord Osmond Nighthold loved his wife, but she was ready to leave. It is said that the woman pleaded for the man to accept the baby and never blame the baby for her death, love the baby with all his heart and let the baby see the beauty of life. It is said that the man prefered that his wife would be saved, because then they could have thousands of chances to make other babies, but he submited to his wife's will, and holded her hand until a tiny baby girl was born and his wife let out the last breath. Signe was a high-spirited hell-raiser and mischief maker in her childhood and adolescence. She was growing up with three Mountain men: father and two older brothers. She always wanted to be somewhere out with them, she wanted to participate in their trainings, and she loved following them, imitating them, spying on them. However, even if she had a strong love for mountains and the strong wind in her hair, possibility to look over the horizon from the top of the mountain, the love for forest and nature was much greater in her heart. She loved wandering in the forests, gathering herbs, learning what those herbs may do. Even more, she loved watching animals, following them, spying on them, imitating them. Mostly, she loved dogs. The young lady befriended almost all homeless dogs in Stonedeep and she used to spend a lot of time around breeders of their famous hounds. Rolling in the mud with a puppy while it licks her face was something what draw a large smile in her pale features. Of course, she also had to interract with humans and some of them were her cousins like Nadia and Lydia. Signe always saw them as a true image on how a lady should act. She knew that she has to learn from them, but it was kind of boring. So, she used to run somewhere away from her tutors for as long as her brothers and father didn't learn about it. Though, scolded by authority (her beloved father or one of the beloeved brothers), Signe was quick to calm down and get back to her studies, lessons and more proper behaviour. Though, if someone ask who is Signe's most favorite person without her father and brothers, the young woman would definitely mention Princess Drea Redrain. Of course, she did not have a possibility to interract with the royalty much. However, she saw High Shaman from afar and really wanted to follow in her footsteps. Signe can not understand those who follow unknown Gods. They seem unreal and they are strangers to her, nothing more. However, the nature is something special. It is real and it does control our life and we shall pray to is, because it actually has influence on our life. We have to take care of the nature and follow it's rules. That is why young Signe believes that she should become Shaman herself one day. Though, the night is young and it is not yet sure what waits for Signe in there. However, for now she is just excited to travel to the Capital, where she has never been before. She will have so many new places to explore, and maybe she will meet Princess Drea Redrain, and she will re-unite with her cousins, and she just hopes that her father and her brothers will soon join her on the Arx too, because even if she is wild and a true adventurer, she still madly loves her family and not places, but people are her home.

Freedom and wilderness are two words embodied by this young lady's appearance. Signe has a natural pallour to her skin but the faint dusting of freckles across her nose, cheeks and shoulders tattle the amounts of time spent outdoors. Her hair is a bundle of naturally turbulent curls the colour of roasted almonds and cinnamon, sparingly streaked with gold like honey. Braids and knotted dreadlocks adorn the tangle, along with simple home-spun cloth wraps that keep the majority of her untamed hair out of her face. Similar strips of fabric also hold the two longest braids in place in front of her shoulders. Her brows are well-groomed and have but a slight arch over downturned eyes like twin pools of mountain water, crystalline blue with a secret depth. There is a mauve tint to her lips and her nails are neatly trimmed. Despite the minute details, very little attention seems to be given her general look, which is uncommon for a lady, but without any effort, this Northerner might strike as a charming and mysterious beauty.

There are two sides to every leaf and two faces of every mountain. Such is the case for Signe Nightgold. In the waking hours, she presents to the world a most endearing masquerade of a young lady who endeavors to become a shaman just as her beloved mother was. Ruled by her whimsy like the snows of Stonedeep, she is capable of the most passionate and honourable pursuits just as quickly as one might incite a most frightful glacial tempest should one provoke her ire. That is not to say that her moods are so easily swayed. She has the patience and composure as any lady might, but a strong advocate of transparency of one's true nature whenever one can manage so. Every Nightgold has an appreciation of the world around them, and hers is a muse of nature in its most rawest forms. Be it the winter tempests that rip through the peaks of Mount Aviaron or a delicate snow trillium buddling peeking through the last mid-spring snows, they all elicit her infectious delight. By evening, and when it is naught but the Thunderborn as her witness, hers is a most troubled mind plagued by filaments of guilt for the sacrifice her mother made to see her heralded into the world. It is a feeling that often drives her forward in her studies to become a shaman of repute such as her mother was; to be good and the best in all things to honor a woman no more than a fleeting figment in her life, a hazy dream of what could've been. Her death need not be in vain.