Behind the blanket, Baron Rostov seated himself cross-legged on the floor and quietly chanted himself into a trance. As his soul left his body, his body levitated a bit. His soul moved first to the Ethereal Plane, from which he quickly studied the world around him. In the souls of the men guarding him, he saw steady professionalism and pride of work. Their protective pouches were still functioning—they made the men’s souls fuzzy and hard to see from this plane, strong enough to ward off simple mischief though not to protect from a powerful attacker who knew the men’s identity.
The part of the plane around the hut was barren—even the Dryads had abandoned their trees, taking refuge somewhere—and he coughed at a poison in the air, but could not identify its source.
The Invisible Stalker had warned him against traveling on the Ethereal Plane, and it was clear that foul things were afoot. The Baron returned to his body. Were he in his travel room at Falcon’s Aerie, he would have next moved through the Astral Plane—he loved traveling there, despite the strong wards he now felt obliged to carry with him. Without them, he dared not risk the strong narcotic effect of that plane’s beauty on the human soul, which could leave him like so many others drifting, lost in reverie, until his body died and eventually Guide spirits found him and hustled his soul away to its destination plain. As dying went, it was very pleasant, but he was not ready for that.
With the enthusiastic support of Djinni Abdul and Hagop Yossarian, Rostov had cultivated friends among the Djinn on the Elemental Plane of Air (their domain), and he should be able to call in a favor or two. But there were many other inhabitants of that plane, and the Djinn are a capricious folk. Moreover, his time would be limited—even with his customary protections traveling there was a taxing process, and it would be worse without them. If some impulsive Djinni decided the Baron should meet his family, he would likely expire even before all the first meetings and greetings were finished.
Yet all other possibilities were worse, so the choice was clear. He took a deep breath and cast the spell.
The view was spectacular. He was floating in a sky filled with puffy clouds, subject to no gravity, for there is no surface—no ground—in any of the Elemental Planes. He was surrounded by Breezes, Winds, and Zephyrs of all descriptions, visible as well as tangible on this plane because they are air elementals. They are friendly, joyful sorts. The nearest saw him and came over to run their fingers through his hair and beard and tug on his cloak. The Baron laughed.
“Take me to the city of the Djinn,” he asked, and the elementals dragged and pushed him towards a magnificent floating city not far distant. As they went he entertained them with songs of the sea and skies, of fish and forest, for song is proper to that plane. But he was careful not to sing any songs that mentioned rocks or mountains, for the air folk and the earth folk are often at odds.
As the city loomed up, he said to his playful companions, “I seek the Djinni Saleem. Can you tell him I request the joy of hearing his magnificent howling again?”
They laughed and a few blew on ahead. But as the messengers left, trouble appeared. Lightning bolts were sparking from the head of a large Storm elemental moving near the city, big enough that he was likely to ignore the Baron. But if he chose not to, he would send the Baron swirling. And there was the lightning …
The Storm indeed ignored the wizard until a Doldrum came up. Doldrums are the outcasts of the air elementals. They are dour and calm, and quite deadly to the smaller elementals like those escorting Rostov, which they swallow right up. He would have been unaffected by the Doldrum, but his breezy companions dragged him away from it, towards the Storm! The Baron changed his singing into a cantrip of Blending, and the Storm rolled by him to confront the Doldrum.
The party moved away from the confrontation and soon thereafter the Djinni Saleem blew out from the city, crying, “My good Baron, you don’t come often enough!” As the Djinni approached his appearance changed from a disturbance in the air into a large blue-skinned man, to make his human guest more comfortable.
“For that I apologize, my windy friend,” said Rostov. “But sadly my adaptation to this plane is still incomplete. And today I must make my stay even briefer than usual. A great crisis is brewing on my Prime Material Plane and I need your help.”
“You have but to ask. You have entertained me with the story of Solomon and the Four Djinni many times.”
“I need to enter the Stokavski manor and get out again, but my way is blocked by enemies besieging Wolf’s Lair in both the Prime Material and the Ethereal Planes. Can you aid me?”
“It would be my pleasure to guard you on this journey. This is a task worthy of a Djinni’s effort. My cousin visits me today, and I would ask that you sing to him … “
“It would be my honor, Djinni Saleem, but—”
“… but I can see your stay here already tires you. We will go immediately.”
Saleem roared a mighty song. A gem like a water-clear diamond, big as his thumb, appeared in his hand. He gave it to the Baron. “This will be my lodging while away from my plane. It is of course your charge to guard it as I guard you.”
He bellowed again and a vortex appeared in front of them.
“In now quickly, my solid-world friend!” said the Djinni, and the two went through the portal.