Entering the game felt like falling. It was a nice fall, though. Smells, tastes, colors, sounds all whizzed by me, along with a sharp pinprick at the back of my head, like a hair being plucked from my scalp. Then, before I knew it, I'd landed in the game. I was in the middle of a vast, verdant green hill. The tutorial area, a pop-up message told me.

I tried to the best of my ability to complete it quickly, but my body didn't seem to agree with me. My legs, much more muscular and large than my real body, brushed uncomfortably against each other, occasionally tangling themselves as I walked. My arms were huge and unwieldy, and often put me off-balance. My body was, as a whole, heavier, more lumbering, which made it hard to complete any kind of movement goal without stumbling and making a fool of myself.

Eventually, though, I was able to make it through the basic movement tutorial. I had finally gained a sufficient grasp of my own body when a weapon manifested in my hand— a huge, two-handed sword— and a boar appeared in front of me. The boar charged, and I shrieked. Was I supposed to hit it? Maybe it was a talking boar who was just trying to get closer?

I got another look at it, its wild eyes and foaming mouth. No, it probably wasn't interested in diplomacy. Reluctantly, I held my sword in front of me with both hands. Its weight was massive, but easily handled by my rippling forearm muscles, something which I would never have in the real world. I swung down in a great overhead strike, ready to cleave the boar in two, when it suddenly hopped to the side, narrowly dodging my blade. Another message prompt filled my field of vision:

'ENEMIES WON'T JUST STAND THERE AND WAIT FOR YOU TO HIT THEM— THEY'LL REACT DYNAMICALLY TO YOUR EVERY MOVE. PLAN FOR THIS ACCORDINGLY.'

As I read the prompt, I failed to notice the boar charging at me again until it had already impacted. I felt its hard skull hit me like a punch to the gut, sending me to the floor. Another prompt filled my vision, preventing me from seeing the boar:

'DON'T GET DISTRACTED, FOCUS ON YOUR OPPONENT.'

I growled. Wow. Angrily, I waved my hand in front of my face, dismissing the message as I stood back up, only to barely dodge out of the way of the boar's next charge. I was ready this time, though. I dropped the sword, allowing its blade to sink into the ground as I dove after the running boar. I grabbed its long, wispy tail and yanked, hard.

It screeched like, well, like how you would expect a boar to screech after you damn near pulled its tail out of its socket. The boar, against its will, was pulled towards me, and I wrapped my huge arms around its torso from behind. It kicked and thrashed, but couldn't escape my clutches. I bent backwards, bringing the boar down in a crushing German suplex. I could hear its spine crack sickeningly when its head hit the ground. Disgusted, I released the boar, only for it to dissolve into crystals. A new notification, along with a prompt graced my vision:

'CONGRATULATIONS ON DEFEATING THE [BOAR]. YOUR HEROIC ACTIONS HAVE NOT GONE UNREWARDED.'

The almost-ominous end of the message was punctuated with a notification, a pick-up notification:

'Item: Mantle of Boarslaying - Rare (IV): +2% ATK DMG in MELEE against [BOAR]-type enemies. +3.8 BLOCK against {Charge}-type attacks.'

My eyes widened at the iten. A rare item on the first enemy? Jeez, that seems really lucky, and I honestly don't feel very deserving of that. I'm not even very good. Oh well. I scrolled through my items and equipped the piece. It materialized from crystals, forming around my shoulders and falling past my feet, pooling together below me. Surprisingly, it somehow stayed out of my way as I walked, as if it moved itself from my stride. It was incredibly soft on the inside, and was trimmed with fur lining which poofed out handsomely at the collar, and it smelled like a comfortably smoky campfire. Small black embroideries of boars and hunters decorated the edges of the cloak, and the angry face of a boar dominated the back of it, although they were hard to see against the already dark-brown material. It contrasted horribly with what was under the cloak, a pair of light gray breeches and a loose white shirt that revealed my chiseled, muscular torso and rock-hard abs, the sides of the mostly open shirt hinting at pair of below-average sized breasts. Maybe I could dye the cloak white, it's always been a good color on me.

I walked deliberately to where I'd left the jagged hunk of a sword, considering leaving it in favor of getting a better one or sticking with my hands, but finally deciding to heft it once again. I dragged the intimidating blade behind me, the huge sword digging a trail into the dirt and uprooting any plants in its path.

Eventually, I found a paved pathway, and a city on the horizon. The sword made a horrible but kinda badass noise as I dragged it across the stone. Without my noticing, an older man jubilantly caught up to my long stride.

"Hullo!" He greeted, his voice a Scottish drawl, "Name's Horoki, and you cut an imposing figya! Mind if I walk in yer shade? Old men like me are ripe pickins for dastardly types!"

I looked down at him. With my towering 6'8" figure, he looked like what I looked like in comparison to the school basketball players. He looked up at me with a genuine smile and kind, squinted eyes. I decided to humor him and nodded.

His smile brightened. "Thanks, lad. Ye seem like the generous type. I gotta say, that cloak is fetchin'! Where'd ya get it?"

I shrugged and pointed behind me with a thumb.

He rose an eyebrow in confusion, "Corpses disappear, lad. Did ye forget that?"

I blushed and smiled again. Oh well. "Boar," I let out, trying to conceal my vaguely deep feminine voice as much as possible.

He cocked his head, but didn't seem to care all that much. "Boar? How the feck did ye get that from a boar!"

I shrugged.

"Oh well, guess it don't matter much. What's yer class?"

I squinted, struggling to remember what I picked, then I realized that the giant sword still dragging along the stone behind me was a sufficient hint. "Barbarian."

He looked up at me. "Yeah, most lads I seen pick that. Guess it's a male fantasy thing, or it's just cool. Not my place to judge. Me, I'm a Cleric. Figured not enough people care to care about others, and carin's what I'm best at!"

What a sweet old man. I smiled down at him, and decided that showing my hand wouldn't be that bad. "I'm not a 'lad.'"

He looked taken aback, then leaned forward and squinted at me. "Huh. Sorry fer assumin', ye just don't seem too… Oh well, it's not my place ta be judgin' based on body shape. Sorry. I'll leave ye alone."

I waved my hand dismissively and chuckled, "It's fine, don't worry about it. You don't have to go, you seem like a nice guy."

He laughed and stepped back into stride with me. "Thank goodness, I wouldn't want to get on someone's bad side when they got that," he pointed to the sword "With 'em. Name's Horoki, by the way."

"Asuna. Pleased to meet you."

We continued walking in a comfortable silence, at least, it was silent until the void in my stomach made itself known with a great rumble.

My new friend gave a small laugh. "I'm awful peckish. I know a good bar nearby, they serve good drink," he leaned in closely, as if he was telling a dark secret, "And even better sandwiches."

I chuckled and followed his lead through the approaching town. Hopefully I'll find more friends like him.