Veit looks like a young soldier who has learned to make stillness into a kind of armor. He is tall for his age, with straight pale-blond hair cropped short enough to stay out of his eyes, and vivid, steely blue eyes that seem fixed on a point just beyond whoever is speaking. His face is handsome and stern, its youthful softness made more noticeable by how carefully he holds his jaw. He moves with clipped, economical steps, planting his weight evenly as if every patch of ground might need to be defended. Unexpectedly, he carries a tiny wooden carving of a sheep, polished smooth by his thumb, and takes it out to show friendly animals.

Veit is disciplined but not naturally severe: he follows a routine because it keeps fear and memory in their assigned places. With strangers he is formal, watchful, and quick to correct practical mistakes; with animals or a trusted companion, an unexpectedly gentle humor surfaces. He wants companionship but treats dependence as a weakness, then quietly notices every absence. When relaxed, he talks about beer and training; when troubled, he polishes equipment or tries to turn the problem into a list of tasks. His sternness is real, but so is the young man beneath it.

Veit was not born to ordinary parents. He came into being as a Placeborn spirit of Germany, formed from the land, its people, and their long, unsettled history. He remembers little of his earliest years except the presence of an older brother, Kurt, a black-haired, blue-eyed man who taught him drills, how to clean a weapon, and how to stand when frightened. After telling Veit, "Good luck," Kurt disappeared. Veit has spent years trying to understand whether that was a farewell, a promise, or an order. An older Placeborn, Gerhard, helped raise Veit and put him through a strict regimen of study, physical training, and religious observance. Veit grew up alongside several other Placeborn he insists on calling brothers: Daan, the Dutchman; Otto, the Austrian; and Jürg, the Swiss. He also has complicated ties with Soren, Berwald, and Arthur, who he does not consider brothers despite their long acquaintance. He calls Arthur's magic improper and dislikes being dragged into visits with Arthur's American-born cousin, whom Veit calls the American. The rare gatherings are usually arranged by Arthur or Gerhard, partly to keep the American from being isolated. Veit served an infantry contract, where discipline gave him purpose and comrades gave him a glimpse of belonging. Now that the contract is over, he wants to enlist again, but worries that someone will notice he is not quite human. He keeps his uniform and arms immaculate, enjoys beer more than he admits, and finds animals easier company than people. His Placeborn senses returned in strange fragments after his revival: the earth sometimes speaks to him as pressure, vibration, and half-formed memory. When he sleeps, those impressions twist his dreams into unfamiliar landscapes.