Chapter 309: Cloudy with a Chance of Titans Mynasha was impatient as we sat and were served by young orc attendants in drab, gray robes. The local cleric’s house was humble but cozy.Woolasha sipped some pungent tea. “I will tell you what I can. It is a challenging climb, and the task the Elders have set forth is difficult. I suspect Fioasha might know a few places where he might find an artifact without summiting the Spire and confronting the Ancients.”“Ancients?” I asked, puzzled.The cleric nodded ardently. “That is what we call the oldest of the storm giants. They come here to live out their last days, even though that may be centuries. We do not know how long they actually live, though there is one storm giant that has been around since the founding of the Caliphate,” Woolasha replied instructively.I interjected with a pertinent question. “What is the name of that storm giant?” If it became a FUBAR situation, maybe knowing the name would be useful.“Khrusos,” the cleric replied earnestly.That sounded familiar. “Kronos?” I questioned.“No. Khrusos,” he said patiently, sounding out the name a few times for me. Perhaps the translation or passage of time had altered the giant’s name. Kronos was Latin, after all. He waited till I was satisfied before continuing.“Now, the Spire has been called many things over the years: The Crown, due to the persistent lightning storms surrounding the summit; Death’s Holme, since that is where the storm giants go to die and most who venture to climb it never return; and Wisdom Peak by Supreme Annalasha, who centuries ago visited the Titans on more than five occasions. But the Titans call it Olympia, (...)