After more than its fair share of cataclysms, the plane Dominaria is in ruins. Over two hundred years ago, Phyrexia invaded the plane. In the end Phyrexia and its god, Yawgmoth, were defeated, but not before they devastated Dominaria. Salt rains from the sky and the air is poisonous. The trees are gray and rotting and covered with a sickly, fungal kudzu. The elves must subsist on mossy scraps. Their greenseekers roam Dominaria in search of any thriving plant matter, but the plains are dry salt flats blasted by windstorms. Nothing grows there. The swamps are littered with the dripping carcasses of Phyrexian horrors. Mountains are eroded down to obelisk-like spires while seas' acidic waters eat away at the solidified volcanic spurts that dot the waves.