"Ah seven hells", one of the soldiers said as they were resting. He had his shoe in his hand, his finger sticking through the hole in its sole, "those craftsmen have been slacking off. I only had these for a few moons. Where am i supposed to get new shoes and how am I going to pay for them?"
"Here let me look", Max held out his hand. The soldier gave him the shoe and he activated overhaul. One split second and the shoe was good as new, "here you go"
The group of soldiers who had witnessed that stared at Max with open eyes. This wasn't just carelessness, this was to look and see whether the average man would kill him over his quirk. In the middle of the camp, no one would be stupid enough to attack and if they did, he'd have every right to kill them but all his worry was for naught, as the men around him didn't shout witchcraft or draw their swords, no, they looked at him with a child like sparkle in their eyes, "seven hells, how did you do that?!"
"Is that something everyone in Yi Ti can do?"
"If so, I was clearly born in the wrong country!"
"Show us again! Show us again!"
Max smiled. It seems the religious doctrine of the seven wasn't as burnt into their minds as he had thought. It made sense, he thought. Not everyone would be a religious fanatic, "no, not everyone can do that. It is something passed down through the bloodline and that was nothing… someone got a copper piece?"
The soldiers scrambled to get their money pouches and held out a few copper pennies each. He took a few in his open palm and closed his eyes. He envisioned what to create, its edges -both sharp and smooth-, its volume, its shape. Then, once he had a perfect image in his head, he activated overhaul. When he opened his eyes again, in his hands were no more coins but a stag made of pure copper… well not entirely pure, some of the coins had impurities but-, it was photo realistic. You could see the hairs on its body, the scratches from battle on it antlers and so much more. The soldiers wouldn't have been surprised if the statue began moving, that is how detailed it was.
"I know of a few merchants who would kill for this level of detail… this isn't something which is easy to make. It would take months of hard work by a regular craftsman and you… you did it in minutes!", he was baffled. This soldier had been a jeweler and his magnum opus, his best work, which had taken him over a year to complete, paled in comparison. He was more than a little jealous.
"Is there a limit to how much you can change?"
"There are certain limits", he admitted, "I wouldn't be able to build a castle in one go", though it went unsaid that he could probably do it in a few days, if not a few weeks. The true range of his abilities depended on the material and whether he just wanted to destroy or also rebuild. Some materials, like stone, were easier to affect. It seemed as though anything 'alive'(using that word very lightly as long dead wood also counted) was by far harder to use. He doubted he could affect a whole dragon at once, an elephant would probably be his upper limit. That is if he want to destroy and reconstruct. Doing only the destruction was much easier. Now non living things, such as dirt and stone, now those, he could build walls out of. Thanks to overhaul, he could raise a fortress like the Red keep in a handful of weeks, instead of the decade which it would take using human labour.
Truly this power was marvellous. The only downside? It took a toll. He couldn't spam the power infinitely. He had to rest, especially after larger scale uses.
"Hey, do you want to marry my sister? She is a good cook"
"No thank you"
"Had to try, didn't I?"
They laughed together, "how about some wine? I still have some arbor red with our names on it" one of the soldiers mentioned.
"You mean you are going to steal some from the supply cart… again?"
He had done that a few times now. So far no one had caught him. In the end, once again, they had a bottle of arbor red to share, "to a glorious battle once we reach the coast"
They were tipsy by the end of the night, not drunk, six people couldn't get drunk of one bottle but they had a good time.
Asleep, Max's consciousness drifted into the body of a falcon, high above the open sea. He could see a great battle on the ships. Some were the typical westerosi ships, whilst others were the more agile reaving vessels. It was deepest night and yet they were still fighting. The iron men slowly started loosing the battle. They were outnumbered and underprepared sie a real battle. They could plunder the coast lines but as soon as the fight got taken to them, they struggled.
With no victory in sight, the iron men fled, tails between their legs.
'What is dead may never die' is a nice sentiment but once it actually came to facing death, only few could do it. These ones clearly weren't of the make to face death, no, they fled when things got too hot.