Either way, I’m harvesting my own dead body for uncooked food and crafting materials.
Sadly, it's not a poison antidote to the food poisoning I got from consuming human flesh. See? At least something good came out of it that time. On that altar, with my previous corpse’s heart, I crafted a poison antidote. I ran back to home base and placed my heart on the altar to Set, a snake god in Conan’s world. And then I carved my former heart out of my former chest with a ceremonial knife. I ran back to where that crocodile/alligator had jumped me. I’d added a sundeck here, a Sepulchre of Set there.
They snarl so loud! And so, naturally, I died, then respawned back at my fiber roll, back at good ol’ home base. So, with that in mind, I ran out past my comfort zone and found a 15-foot crocodile. This time, however, I’d learned my lesson. There was another time that played out in a similar fashion. I found my corpse, looted my dead body, chopped up the rest of old dead me, collected my decaying flesh, ate my own cold dead remains-and got food poisoning from consuming uncooked me. I retraced my steps, running back to where those barbarians had jumped me. So, naturally, I died, then respawned back at my fiber bedroll, my spawn point, back at home base. One of my arms ended up over here, one of my legs over there. Though I was crouching in the underbrush, they came after me. One swung a stone axe, the other swung a stone pick. There was that time I was attacked by a couple barbarians staring into a campfire. I’ve witnessed-and partaken in-more than one horrifying scenario in Conan Exiles.
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