Jeff was intrigued by the option of a Celtic warrior's armor and weapons, and clicked on it. His clothes suddenly disintegrated. He shivered as he felt new clothes growing around him. First wool pants in a colorful checkered design formed around his legs. They were very loose and had nothing under them, but Jeff felt comfortable enough. Next, rough leather boots nestled around his feet. Ornate golden bands looped around his wrists and arms, and a silver torque settled on his neck. Finally, he felt a weight on his head and in his hand as a bronze helmet and iron longsword materialized.
Afraid to touch anything while wielding a longsword that he had no idea how to use, Jeff just stared at the computer as it flashed, "CLOTHING COMPLETE. INITIATING TIME TRAVEL - LOCATION: GAUL, 100 BC". He heard and felt a loud "whoosh" as the computer winked out of existence. First his desk, then his room, then the house and the entire neighborhood appeared to melt away. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again he saw that he was in a dark forest. The full moon above him indicated that it was nighttime. He saw smoke in the distance, but otherwise there were no signs of civilization. Jeff was still an average teenager, but he was dressed in the armor of a Celtic warrior.
There was a tingling across his entire body, and he saw that blue lines were drawing themselves across his skin. As they snaked across Jeff, they arranged themselves into the most elaborate, incredible loops, circles, and curves that would put any modern-day (or perhaps now far-future?) tattooist to shame. Jeff remembered that these tattoos were called "woad", but he didn't quite know if he had read it once or if the knowledge was instinctive. An intense warmth began radiating from the woad. A slight aging took place as Jeff grew a bit taller, and the lines of his body became rougher and more defined. Then, his meager muscles ballooned outwards, thickening and bulging to bring Jeff to the peak of prowess. Coarse red hair, odd, as his hair was red, sprouted across the parts of Jeff's chest not covered by woad, accentuated by his lack of a shirt. The hair on his head lengthened and his upper lip tickled as it grew a robust, drooping mustache. There was also a tickling feeling in his groin as his pubic hair multiplied and his penis extended slightly. His eyes tingled as they lightened from brown to the blue color of his woad. Jeff was now a perfect fit for his armor.
There was a strange sensation in his head that felt like some sort of shift. Though he still remembered he was Jeff, he suddenly began thinking and feeling more as Gefengetorix Bluefingers, son of Magravet Thrice-Cut, and mighty warrior of the Chronivacii tribe. As he began pacing around he felt knowledge enter his brain on how to fight with the longsword he still carried, how to stalk through the forest or ride a horse, and how to compose epic ballads of his accomplishments. His past victories and their ballads imprinted themselves on his memory. His pace changed to a manly swagger as his personality became arrogant, confident, devoted, and suicidally brave.
Gefengetorix no longer had the Chronivac and couldn't recall what the time limit of the transformation was or if there was one at all, but with his new mindset he didn't particularly care. Being a Celtic warrior felt natural. Glancing at the smoke in the distance, he remembered that it was from...