The stone titans are not giants. They do not wear stone, and there is no mortal life beneath the surface — no soul, no shadow, no spirit looking out from inside. They are Golus given coherent form: fragments of the earth plane that pressed through the leyline membrane over deep ages and organized themselves into mass and purpose. The process is not Gaea's act. It is what a deep seam does when its contact with the material layer holds at high enough pressure for long enough.
In appearance they resemble figures left partway through carving, features half-resolved from rock, moving as if the ground itself were rearranging into the shape of a living thing. They carry the grain and color of whatever stone the local seam runs through. A titan from pale stratified bedding country looks it; one from deep granite is coarser-grained, darker, less regular at the joints.
They do not bleed. When destroyed, they leave no body. The form disperses into the rock underfoot, the seam takes it back, and the stone settles as if a pressure was released. No soul cycles to the Astral, no shadow finds Malstaris, no spirit carries a name Celestia could hold. There is no death-road because there was nothing to die — only Golus-substance that held a shape for a time and now does not.
Once a century the titans walk. The migrations follow deep seams where leyline stress runs highest, crossing sea floors and ranges by routes no road takes. Two titans that reach the same stress-node can draw from the local Golus-pressure there and organize a new form from the stone between them. What draws them is the seam. That something sometimes comes of it at the seam is incidental to the seam's own business.